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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#25: A Few More Days (S7E12)

Say Yes is just rich with Richonne goodness at every turn, beginning early with the opening moments of the ep as well as in their final moments in the ep, which are tied here on my list. Both scenes highlight how much Rick and Michonne value the days they have with each other. And to kick off this love letter episode, I love that we get a moment of Rick and Michonne proving yet again that them + vehicles = gold...

So after a perfect and steamy montage establishing they’ve been having the time of their lives on this run and a sweet conversation about why they’re smiling, we see them in the van eating saviors' pretzels. And I’ve always loved the inclusion of pretzels in this scene for the symbolism in contrast to Dwight and Sherry. It’s a subtle way to indicate that Rick and Michonne are the couple who are going to stay together through thick and thin.

I like Michonne saying they have "good taste in pretzels" like it’s the singular good quality about the Saviors lol. And then I love Rick saying "and batteries" as one of the first ways slick Rick will indicate he wants to stay out longer. And I get his logic - with the walkie working they can stay aware of what’s going on back home while still enjoying this wonderful honeymoon. I was fully on board with Rick’s thinking lol.

Watching it back, I love the ever-so-subtle groan Rick gives when Michonne says they’re gonna need to get back. He is not ready to leave this blissful state he’s in with her and I’m beyond here for it.

Also, I swear if watching all these Richonne scenes back was a try-not-to-smile challenge I would lose horrendously. I can’t not smile. It’s just all so precious every time they’re together, and this is genuinely me during the entirety of their every scene lol...

And then I just adore the way Michonne notices Rick’s quiet reaction and says his name. She knows her husband, y’all. She knows his silence means he doesn’t want to go home yet.

Rick says “a day and a half more, today and tomorrow.” And truly so much of what I love about this scene and Say Yes in general is that it’s one of the very rare moments where Rick gets to voice something he really wants personally. This isn’t about wanting to keep finding guns. He’s having the time of his life with the love of his life, and he wants to enjoy this as long as he can.

Michonne says they can come back again because, trust, she wants this alone time with Rick too, she just wants to eliminate the Negan threat so their next trip doesn’t have that cloud over it.

I love the way Rick says “just a little more” and looks over at her with his subtle eyebrow raised. He’s the most refreshed he’s looked all season and so happy and in love, and it’s great to see.

Michonne reassuringly says, “We’re okay. We don’t have to find them right now,” and I like how this is where Rick just outright confirms that extending this run is not about finding guns. It’s about what he will later reveal to be what he wants most - “the two of us” - cuz then he lightheartedly responds “yeah I know” lol.

(Side note: I'm just thinking about how before this love letter 7.12 ep there was the iconic 3.12 Clear ep. And 3.12 also began with the two in the car - however back then Michonne was driving in silence and Rick was thinking they’ll part ways after the Governor fight. How far we’ve come with them that now in 7.12 Rick and Michonne are in this car fully in love on a honeymoon run and wanting all the time in the world with each other. 🥰🙌🏾)

Rick says, “Just a little more okay?” while just eating some pretzels all content. And the delivery of the 'okay?' at the end is so freaking cute. 😋 Andy is so good at playing all shades of Rick, especially a Rick in love.

And then there’s this little silent moment where Rick looks down and then looks over at her with a look that says he knows Michonne wants this time too and that they want to be out here for more than just business reasons.

I love that Rick is always so good at making sure he gives the two of them time together to just put plans and agendas aside and enjoy being with each other. This is different than s1 Rick who was always on the go. He knows how valuable what he has with Michonne is and he cherishes every moment he has with her. Man of the year every year, ijs.

And then Danai “Always Perfectly Delivers The Line, Even If It's Just One Word” Gurira says "okay" in a way that just communicates so much. The way Michonne looks at him with so much care in this moment before softly saying okay. She knows that while Rick is seeming casual rn, this is also something he really wants and even needs more than he’s letting on, which he’ll reveal when he shares how much has been weighing on him later in the ep. And I think in this moment she knows she really needs this time with the love of her life too.

Also it’s sweet how all Rick had to say was just “a little more, okay?” and Michonne was in full agreement. They both can so effortlessly get the other on board with them. 😋 So she says this heartfelt okay and then Rick is just in his glowy happy era responding with such a pleased “okay” while looking at her so clearly in love.

The way they look at each other and smile with a little laugh upon agreeing to keep this honeymoon going is just perfection. 😍 I love that they both know they are going to stay out here not just as leaders and fighters but as lovers too, as they happily agree to bask in their Richonne bubble a bit longer.

This joy and alone time is what they deserve, and I love how this scene sets the tone for the rest of their honeymoon ep. It let you know that Rick and Michonne's love and desire for each other was going to be central, and I'm forever here for it.

And then I gotta attach another “few more days” moment at the end of the ep to this ranking because it really does connect. 👌🏽

It’s at the end of Say Yes when Michonne approaches Rick after his irritating encounter with Jadis. Rick and Michonne both really do look so visibly rejuvenated from their honeymoon run. I was looking at both of them in this scene like...

And I love that seeing her man is upset, Michonne knows just how to uplift him.

The scene starts with Rick clearly frustrated after Jadis changed the deal and tried to demand the cat sculpture back. When that trash lady told Rick she wanted the cat back I was like...

Because see Rick is in the business of gifting Michonne, so Jadis and the junkyard had another thing coming if they thought he was giving his wife's cat sculpture back lol. He even retools the deal to let Jadis know she tried it, and then he has this lone moment looking annoyed just before Michonne approaches. And just the way she looks at him when she slowly enters the scene is already so sweet. 🥹

I love how she says, "You get a few more days before what happens next." Which as we know from their previous heart-to-heart means before the fight.

Let me tell you, this is a husband and wife. Like officially-married-after-that-7.12-proposal husband and wife. You just feel the spouse vibes radiating off them in this scene, and I’m here for it.

I love that when Michonne lovingly says this, it’s her knowing how much a 'few more days' is something Rick really wanted/still wants and something she now deeply understands the value of too. And sis always be knowing the perfect thing to say cuz Rick's mood is instantly boosted as he turns to face her, elated at the idea of a few more days spent like how they just spent it. 😊

And part of what was so special about Rick wanting to extend their trip throughout this ep is that it was truly just the two of them on that honeymoon run - it wasn't like real-world honeymoons where you're at least around other hotel guests or beachgoers or whatever - but Rick was like, 'even when you’re the literal only person I’m around for days, I still want more of that.' #DirectQuoteFromHisMind 🥰

It’s cute how Rick perks up as he asks, “A few more days?” I love how Michonne can always improve his mood and capture his full attention. I also love how close they’re standing to each other in this scene and the lighting — you know we love a well-lit Richonne scene. It’s great. 👏🏽

And that Richonne bubble has a strong magnetic field because it seems they just can’t help but be as close as possible when talking to each other here. Truly, at this moment, they feel like it's just the two of them around - but nope, they out here giving big 😍-energy publicly on some strangers' turf. I love it. 🙌🏾

Michonne has such a beautiful glow when she calmly and confidently assures Rick, “that’s right, we’ll find more, we’ll figure it out soon…in a few more days.” 🗣 She's a wife. And scenes like this show that loud and clear.

Also, what Rick and Michonne mean to each other is always so gorgeously depicted, even in just a look. my goodness. #blessed.

As a moot beautifully stated, Rick drinks her in whenever she's in front of him, and he does so here as he nods and takes her hand. I love that she can so instantly improve his mood and how we just watched them spend all this alone time together all episode, only for them to end the ep excited about the prospect of more time together.

And then the scene ends with them walking away hand in hand because one thing Richonne always finna do is hold hands, and I'm here for it. 🤗

This was a beautiful way to open and close the Richonne love letter ep. And so these two connected moments - starting with Rick wanting a few more days and ending with the two of them also really grateful for a few more days - were wonderful and had to get some recognition on this list. 😌

#richonne #top 30 #number 25 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #twd 7.12 #twd towl #the ones who live

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sebastianstansqueen · 2 months

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Lost In The Shadows Fourteen

A/N: This one is short, sorry, also have began writing my next series, my stuff about that will be up once i’m finished posting this story, hope you like it, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,268

Warnings: Big Angst, Guns, Character Death, Drugs?, Some Domestic bliss, then obviously Brock, pregnacy, If forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open//

Tags:@cherryblossomsky- @babylooneytoonz- @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff- @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1- @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love -@stoneyggirl2 - @ordelixx - @arunabrak

Brock was pissed, it had been almost a year and there still had been no sign of Y/n nor James anywhere, and while Andy now seemingly was in control of her business, he couldn’t hold New York by the balls the way Y/n used to, so Brock turned his anger into an advantage. His substance had been selling like crazy around New York and it was only a matter of time when Y/n would find out he’d began spreading it on to her territory, and it was also only a matter of time for her to find out, he was so close to finding her and James, he just had to wait a little longer.

Meanwhile, Y/n and Bucky, had been living in Romania, Bucky’s memory had been coming back little by little. As for Y/n she was still the control freak as ever, still controlled what she could from a computer, halfway across the world, even with her patrooting stomach that made it annoyingly hard to use her computer. She rested her head against the couch cushion, with a sigh of slight irritation. Bucky came up from behind, telling from the way her face was scratched something was wrong. “What's going on?” He asked me to sit beside her.

“First lil’ bean is driving me insane, they're moving a lot and I can barely see over my stomach, and work stuff, Brock is dealing on my streets, and he is still looking for me.” She stressed.

“We’re fine and safe, shouldn’t that be all that matters?” He tilts his head.

Y/n’s lips pulled up slightly. “If only it were that simple, I don’t just take care of only you I and our kids with what I do, I take care of my men’s families, I take care of all of the people in my territory, and if I let whatever shit get out, then look what happens, shure New York’s filled with druggies, and people on the stress, but when theres and out break it gets ten times worse for both populations.” She explained what other extra duties she had as a leader in the mob. “That’s why they respect me and fear me, because I could take it all away in a knight from someone, but I also made things better after Henry died, I helped a lot of people, get better, from pills and other crap.”

Bucky nodded, now understanding the importance of what she had done back home. “All I can say is don’t stress too much.” He put his hand over hers that was resting on her stomach, he smiled softly, she closed the laptop.

Bucky and Y/n both stood in the kitchen listening to music that fit both of their tastes, the made a meal fit for kings, or a mechanic and his pregnant mob boss wife. Bucky could tell the difference between now and the begging of their relationship, now she was comfortable enough to wear tank tops and really anything that showed any scar she’d gained in the past, sometimes, Bucky would ask about who she got each one, she could recite the story as if it happened yesterday, yet no emotion held in her voice, and then she’d acted as if she never said anything. He couldn’t understand how she did it.

As they both laid in bed, Bucky’s arms naturally found a way on Y/n. “If you stay relaxed, the sooner bean will be here, and the sooner bean is here, the sooner we get to make another little mean and another.” He smiled, as he held her closely to him.

“I’ll try but no promises.” She smiled to herself, as her eyes closed, Bucky soon followed suit, shutting off the lamp that was on his night stand.

Bucky rolled around to find his wife once again in the night as he slept, but soon was awoken by the cold silky sheets. He shot up, looking around the room, finding no sign of her he got up to find her.

Y/n paced in the office that used to be Bucky’s dads, when he was a kid. She spoke in a demanding harsh whisper, at whatever unfortunate soul. “We’ve got to figure this out, I-we can’t move places at the moment Andy.” She huffed, clearly her anxiety raised, along with anger. “Why? That’s not your business at the moment, I don’t know if he has the phone tapped. Throw him off or something. He can’t find us not right now, bye Andy.” She slumped into the chair behind the desk, sweat appearing on her forehead, her breath picked up slightly.

Bucky came up, taking her hand in his. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“Brock knows where we are, and I don’t think that we can leave at the moment because I am nine months pregnant, and soon enough I could give birth.” Y/n explained.

“He can’t access the island with anything other than a boat, we're fine.” Bucky reassured her. She nodded, knowing she could be overthinking this. “Let’s get back to bed.”

As a week passed, and then half of another, she started to think that she had been wrong. As they both had been getting ready for bed, the power cut out, Y/n and Bucky looked around in confusion as they stood in the bathroom, Y/n put her tooth brush back in the holder, and she moved into their room, Bucky was right with her. “Maybe a line went out.”

“Nope, just me.” Y/n’s eyes whipped to the corner by the closet, Brock stood in the shadows, his hands in front of him with a pistol in one. Bucky tries to flick on the lights, when they turn on, they know someone else is there, all of them looking at each other, Brock’s jaw clenches visibly, when he finally takes in all of Y/n. “You could have had a good life with your husband and kid, why are you causing more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Because you would kill more than you would ever help with whatever that shit is.” She hissed at him.

Brock lifted his gun focusing on her chest, she had no way to defend herself, ironically the one time she didn’t carry her gun, so what else could she do but welcome death as an old friend hoping Bucky could at least leave. As the gun went off she prepared for the bullet, but it didn’t come so she opened her eyes looking around. “Get out!” She looked to where the voice came from, Bucky who was lying on the floor with a bullet in his chest and stomach. “Leave Y/n!” He said the best he could.

Her leg’s moved before her mind, all she could see was Bucky there on the floor bleeding out, the pair of guards that stayed on the island met her down stairs. “Where’s Mr. Barnes?” One of them asked, she just shook her head. “Take her to the mainland. I’m going to go up there.”

The second guard came up to her, leading her out to the doc, she struggled to collect herself as they ran, when they got to the doc with a boat at the end, the guard helped Y/n on. “Y/n!” Brock Yelled form not too far from them.

“Go, get to the Airport, and go home, or somewhere safe.” The guard told her, as he Started the boat before getting off quickly. The boat moved quickly on the water, Y/n waited to doc on the mainland, her face wet from tears as she docked and then got a taxi. She had no clue what was supposed to happen after this, she should have died.

When Y/n got on the first plane to New York, she immediately messaged Andy, wanting to have someone go back and get Bucky, maybe even they’d be able to save him. When she got back to New York, Andy had replied that he was right on it. As she took a private car back to her house, she felt empty like part of herself was missing. As she walked the path she had so many times, she slowly realized that this wasn’t home, at all. She walked into the house that gave her a pit in her stomach. Andy stood along with all of her men, all meant respect but she wanted to be alone, her jaw clenched, she still wore a nightgown that made her stomach stand out. “Everyone except Andy, leave.” Her voice turned cold and stern.

Andy stayed behind like told as all the other men filtered out. “See what you meant by you didn’t want to leave, now.”

“Is he okay?” Her voice sounded desperate, and had a yearning interlaced.

Andy’s shoulders tensed. “He, along with Brock and his men, weren’t there when they got to the island, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

She just nodded. “Go figure out what's next, I'm staying in New York, until this finishes up.”

“What if-”

“I don’t care I’ll kill Brock Rumlow if that’s the last thing I do, even with my baby in my stomach, he killed my husband, I’m taking every part of his legacy possible, by the time this finishes, no one will even remember his name.” She spoke with passionate rage. “Go get me my information Andy.” She stood giving him a stern look, before he left.

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youaremyhome · 2 years

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Pieces of the Night

Summary: It's your last year of college and you're just trying to make it through but what happens when Rafe Cameron sets his sight on you?

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, DARK. Read at your own risk.

Notes: 2.4k words. this is just the beginning >:)

Moon Dance

The Halloween party was in full swing, dull red bulbs the only source of light inside the frat house. Cheap decorations lined the walls, fog low to the ground hiding the sticky floor. It was the last party for the holiday, so, therefore, the biggest one.

Rafe moves through the throngs of people to get to the kitchen and he thinks that maybe the Top Gun costume was a terrible choice from how hot it was. But Topper and Kelce wanted to model the men in the movie and the uniforms were sick. He’s barely a foot in the room, heading towards the fridge where his beer awaits, when someone calls out his name.

“Ayo, Rafe! Come here, man.”

It’s Carson, a fellow brother that is surrounded by four girls. Rafe huffs but goes over, Carson is more tolerable than others.

“Babe, this is the VP, Rafe. Rafe, this is my girlfriend Daniella and her friends.” Carson’s voice is a bit muffled from his batman mask as he gestures to the dark brunette next to him. She’s dressed in a tight pleather bodysuit with cat ears.

“Oh, we know Rafe,” Louise and Andi smile together. Technically, he’s met all three of them before at different mixers over the years, but even in frats and sororities, he couldn't remember everyone.

Louise is in a nurse costume, though he suspects she got the outfit from a lingerie shop the way the lace reveals her body. Andi’s black hair is braided into pigtails with a cowboy hat. He can’t help his eyes from dipping down to the tightly bowed shirt that pushes her tits up.

He’s about to counter but he realizes that there are four of them, but one hasn’t spoken up. Looking content to just let the conversation flow even if that means skipping over you.

“And who is this?” Rafe rises an eyebrow, eyes focusing on you.

Your back to the wall, he watches as your shoulders slump forward a bit, trying to hide unconsciously.

“Y/N.” A shy smile on your pink lips before you hide behind the cup as you take a sip.

Compared to the others, you’re a little more modestly dressed. And in all white. Wearing a crop top and flared skirt that reaches just above your mid-thigh. Sheer thigh highs wrapped around long legs, small fluffy wings peeking from the back, and to top it off with a halo headband. Cute.

“I’ve never seen you before, what sorority you in?”

Your eyes go a bit wide, a small laugh bubbling out. “Oh, no, I’m not in one. Just roommates with these three.”

“Ah.” So, you’re one of those.

“And she’s the bestest roomie ever! We love our little Y/N so much.” Andi pipes up next to you, her arms squeezing you, much drunker than the rest of you.

Rafe drags his eyes over your body, a limited preview of your smooth skin but certainly not giving him enough. Pretty but from the way you shyly look away with a blush, you seem like a prude. Boring. He wondered what such a good girl like you was doing here. So, he skips his eyes over you and engages in conversation with the group.

As people filter in and out of the kitchen, moving between and around your group, others come and say hi which isn’t surprising in itself. It’s that most often than not, they know you too. It perks Rafe’s interest. Makes him look at you more as you interact with others around you. You give the same sweet smile but it's always genuine with each person. Even with other frat guys you smile and hug and give your undivided attention to. Why didn’t you do that with him?

Excited girlish squeals fill the room when one girl, with a known reputation of being a bitch, hops with you as you greet each other. She pulls you from the group to the counter where he watches you drown a shot together. Face twisted up from the taste, your laugh echoing in the small room as the girl drags you away and out of sight.

Rafe feels stupid once you leave, realizing he had been focused on you for the better part of the last half hour. Taking a swig from his beer, Rafe tells himself he was just bored and that’s why he was fixated on you. He needs to get laid. It's Halloween for god’s sake.

He intends to go do just that but one of the brothers ropes him in a game of beer pong. It almost makes him forget about how your crop top strained across your chest, how the sliver of skin kept demanding his attention.

He misses his next shot because of a flash of white in the living room, his eyes finding you dancing with your friends. Twirling that skirt around until it threatens to reveal what's underneath, fingers tangled with Daniella’s as you shimmy your bodies.

Throughout the game, his eyes keep roaming over to you, and his frat brother is laughing and egging him on as he’s losing for once. Rafe doesn’t understand why his attention keeps swaying to you, drinking in your twisting body more than his beer. You dance like any other girl at the party, throwing your head back in laughter, sashaying your hips side to side, yelling out the lyrics you love especially.

There are cheers on the other side of the table that break Rafe’s concentration on you, looking down he sees that there’s a ball in his last cup. He officially lost.

With a sneer, he chugs the remainder of his drink and when he’s done, his eyes automatically look for you. Only to find, he lost you too.

Chris claps him on the back, gripping his shoulder and shaking it with laughter. Rafe rolls his eyes, pushing him off of him until he relents but then leans over to yell by his ear.

“Come on, let’s go to the back.” His friend nudges at his shoulder.

Rafe readily agrees, leading the way to one of the back rooms that are accessible only to a few. He can’t wait to put you in the back of his mind. What did he find so interesting about you anyways?

The door is cracked open, the music a bit muffled this far from the living room. Chris makes a stupid joke that has Rafe chuckling as he pushes the door open to –

To you snorting coke.

Your head is bent down, your long hair spilling down the side of the coffee table. You pull your head up with a loud sniffle, a gentle finger pressing at your nostril to check that you didn’t miss any.

You catch eyes on him as he froze in the doorway, giving him one of those sweet smiles. Daniella is next to you as she takes her turn to dip her head down. Rafe’s feet carry him to the edge of the couch where you sit.

“Never thought I’d see an angel do coke before.”

You turn your head up, your eyes batting up at him as his words hit you. Your pupils are blown wide and fuck, it makes you look sweeter.

“Isn’t that why it's called angel dust?”

You ask it so confidently, so naïvely that Rafe has to laugh.

“No, wrong drug.” He says with a shake of his head.

Rafe smirks cruelly at your embarrassed frown.

“Oh well,” the wave of your hand is jerky, unsure. “Making my way down to hell anyways.”

“Care for some company then?”

“Sure.” You chirp, scooting down the couch to allow him some room, Chris making himself comfortable on the opposite couch.

Daniella gives him a skeptical eye but doesn’t say anything, clearly knowing his reputation. His thigh is pressed to your own and flickering his gaze down he can see your skirt has risen a few inches up, revealing more skin. The top lace of your stockings slightly digs around the meat of your thigh and suddenly he’s fucking starving.

“Is this your first time?” Rafe asks, stretching his arms out back on the couch. His fingers dangerously close to your shoulder.

You scrunch your nose at him. “No, why?”

That shocks him even more, all he can do is shrug. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

“Is there supposed to be a type?” You tilt your head. How can you look so innocent still? Before he can answer you speak again, “Wait - what type do I look like?”

“Like a good girl.”

And oh, he does not miss the way you try and hide your blushing smile, your hands playing with the end of your skirt. Daniella pulls you back in conversation before he can continue to dissect you, other people coming up to him and distracting him.

He had pegged you in his mind as a goody two shoes, a boring girl that wouldn’t be caught dead doing this. But it wasn’t your first time and he wondered what other firsts you’ve crossed off your list. He’s captivated now, a wild card with the looks of a sweet, unsuspecting girl. Was it just the angel costume throwing him off?

Your name is called out with Daniella’s, Louise in the doorway pouting. “Andi is throwing up.”

A little gasp leaves your lips, without a thought you’re up and moving toward Louise. “Is it bad?”

Louise nods, slurring her words. “Yeah, I think she needs to go home.” By the pout she gives again she isn’t ready to leave.

You reach out a hand to her shoulder, rubbing it affectionally. “I’ll take her home, don’t worry about it.”

You give Louise instructions to go back to Andi, and head over to Daniella who has a worry crease in her forehead. With the sudden standing, you’re wobbling on your feet.

“I’m going to get, uh, a uber and go home with Andi.”

“I’ll come with-“

“No, no. You guys stay, I’ll be okay- “

“But -“

“I can take you home.”

Rafe tells himself he offers just to shut you both up. You blink those dark eyes at him, stunned but you turn your head to Daniella, a question in your eyes. Somehow you two have a wordless discussion before Daniella is turning to Carson, the same question this time whispered in his ear. Carson nods to her and then gives a comforting smile to you. Rafe is actually getting pretty annoyed with this secret exchange and is about to take back his offer when you speak up.

“Yeah, yeah, ok. I’d really appreciate that Rafe.” Another small smile from you compels him to get up.

“Let’s go then,” He sighs like he didn’t offer himself like a sacrificial lamb.

Maybe it's the late witching hour.

You follow him out after a quick promise to Daniella to text her when you get home, spotting Louise who is just leaving the bathroom with Andi. Rafe doesn’t offer his help as the two of you support the drunken girl, leading you out of the house and down the street to his truck.

You do the same song and dance with Louise that you did with Daniella, reassuring her that you were going to be okay. Louise is much easier to convince and walks back to the house, but you don’t get in until you see her disappear through the front door. He expects you to get in the passenger seat but instead, you close the door behind you in the back. Andi’s head placed on your lap as your fingers comb through her knotted hair.

After telling you the simple directions, it's quiet in the truck for a few moments, but Rafe could never be quiet for long.

“So, what are you majoring in?” He peeks through the rearview mirror to look at you. “Environmental science? Journalism?” Useless majors in his book.

“Good guesses, I thought about both of them.” You don’t look up from Andi, who is already passed out, fingers softly pushing her hair out of her face. “Data analytics.”

“Huh.” Again, he was wrong.

You look up at his soft reply, grinning. “My turn.” You make a show of thinking, eyes rolling this way and that.

“Definitely a business major type…but which one? Could cross out the lame ones like international and human resource. Might be a finance bro-" At the look of his sneer, you laugh. “Ok, not finance. That leaves me with… Entrepreneurship?”

A scowl is written across his face but it only makes you laugh brightly. “I got it right, didn’t I?”

“Lucky guess.” Rafe mumbles.

You hum in success, leaning back in your seat, not realizing you had inclined forward in your excitement. Soon, the truck is slowing to a stop in front of your apartment. You shake Andi awake, who grumbles and slurs incoherently as you pull her down to her feet on the sidewalk. Rafe is shutting his door when he hears your sharp intake of breath.

“What?” He snaps.

He quickly circles the car so he can land his eyes on you but you're looking up to the sky.

At his harsh command, you startle. “What?”

Your eyes focus on him now, Andi’s arm around your slim shoulders as you and him look at each other confused.

“You’re the one that gasped, not me.” His tone is angrily confused.

“Oh. Sorry.” You give a sheepish grin before turning back to the sky. “It’s a full moon.”

“So?”

“Sooo, it's a full moon. On Halloween! I totally forgot there was one tonight, it only happens like every 17 years or something and since the lunar phase is about 29-ish days that means this is the second one this month and that’s why…”

You slowly stop your sentence when your gaze comes back to Rafe’s blank stare. The upturn of your lips straightens, pink tongue swiping out to wet them. Dark blue eyes track the movement. You shrug.

“Anyways. Thank you for dropping us off. I owe you one.” You say it so sincerely that Rafe knows he will be cashing out on this debt sooner rather than later.

“I’m counting on it,” Rafe smirks, a hint of teeth showing.

A breeze blows by then, a shiver racking at your shoulders, but it might be more from his predatory gleam that the moonlight catches. You smile again, waving your hand once and then guiding Andi up to the building. You give one more look over your shoulder, seeing him standing there with his hands in his pockets.

Once out of sight, Rafe sighs long and hard. He lifts his head up to squint at the sky. The moon hangs heavy and fat, the round edges crisp as thin clouds float over, so bright most of the stars aren’t seen.

Just the inky black sky and the moon lighting its way through.

Rafe smiles.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameronxreader #smut #fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #dark fics #rafe cameron smut #obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you

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blood-mocha-latte · 5 months

Text

damp - hilldane drabble

for an anonymous ask || request an edit/drabble || i… don’t know what this is. i call it ‘rie accidentally projects a lot onto two characters simultaneously and accidentally makes herself cry’ and also 'rie needs to stop obsessing about keaton st james poems before they Consume her'

9 LINES ABOUT EITHER ROMANCE OR DEATH

The damp, damp dark seemed to find Andy always wanting, always in a limbo between humanity and something else. Something more, something less. A change, but never one big or small enough to be important.

Eddie sat by him, carving a stick with his knife, warm at Andy’s shoulder.

“Ya ever think love stories will be told about people like us?” He asked. Andy shrugged. He knew the answer that Eddie believed. The same one most men like them believed. A story that ain’t ever worth telling. That wasn’t the answer Andy wanted to give.

“Maybe one day.” He said, watching the way the wind shifted through the palm fronds, the men laughing and talking and playing around in the sand and around the camp. “If it’s a good story.”

Eddie snorted. His knife slipped, and he nicked the pad of his thumb. As he held it up to his lips to suck on the cut, he said, “or a tragic one.”

1. It guides our every action.

Andy walked in front of a tank, and didn’t have to turn around to know that Eddie would follow him. Like a soft string that was tethered to his heart with steel, he never had to think too hard about where Eddie would ever be.

He watched as Eddie bent over, pistol loose in his grip, and talked lowly to the army tanker. Andy didn’t need to see him to know how his eyes flashed on certain words, how his lips twisted around others.

Talkin’ and killin’. Sometimes Andy thought it might be the same deadly dance.

The army tanker bowed his head, and Eddie turned on his heel and back to their boys, gripping them by their arms, pulling them to their feet. Dusting them off, helping guide them Away.

Andy wondered if the seraphim of his mothers bible could even hold a candle to Eddie Jones.

He stood in front of the tank until Eddie was done. He watched the treads of the tank, its gun, the crew that he couldn’t see but stared down anyways.

He’d probably let the damn thing crush him, if it would buy Eddie more time, help more of their boys.

2. Do you remember when we rode the train home from the ocean with salt dried in our hair, and yet, somehow, your mouth still tasted so sweet as i kissed you goodnight on your porch? while the dark-winged sedges sang?

“C’mon, just one.”

“No,” Andy laughed, crossing his legs under him to sit in the shallow foxhole with Eddie, who's smile was wide and eyes even brighter. “You're drunk.”

Eddie laughed, and it was warm and free. “Turns out, the more Saki you drink, it does not taste better.” Andy smiled, leaning against loose dirt and feeling the warmth of the setting sun across his face.

“You know, I never would've guessed.” He said dryly. Eddie laughed again. He held the near-empty bottle by its glass neck, and extended it to Andy, shaking it slightly.

“Probably should drink some all the same, though.” He said, and Andy couldn't tell if his pupils swallowed his irises because of the drink or something else. “Just to make sure.”

“Nah.” Andy said lightly, in reference to the Saki. “I've got all the proof I need.”

Eddie smiled and, after looking over his shoulder as if a conspiracy, cheeks flushed red and eyes ink dark, he whispered, loudly, “just one kiss, huh, Skip? ‘M probably drunk enough that it's run off on you.”

Andy watched him seriously, if only for a moment, if only to see the way Eddie leaned against the shallow foxhole again and smiled at him with bitten-red lips and dark, happy eyes.

“Well, you could be stone-cold sober and I could still get drunk off you.” Is what he ended up saying, and Eddie's laugh was warm and bright and it made Andy want to reach for him.

“Hopefully I taste less shitty.” Is what Eddie said back, and drank the rest of the Saki in one go.

3. i dream about you all the time.

Eddie loved, loved, loved Australia, with such a fervor that Andy almost forgot about taking him back home entirely to focus instead on buying them a house Down Under.

They sat in a darker corner of the bar, other marines shouting and singing and drinking and dancing with laughing women.

Eddie sat with light eyes and a whiskey in front of him, running his index finger along the rim of its glass.

“I wonder what it's like in the middle of Australia.” Eddie said thoughtfully, his hand stilling. “I know it's wild, but I'd like to know how.”

Under the table, their knees knocked together, and Andy risked hooking his foot around Eddie's calf, downing the rest of his own drink. “I’d guess somewhat like how the west was, before Lewis and Clark got there.” He said, the whiskey burning down his throat and settling in his chest, curling around his heart.

Eddie hummed, finished off his own drink. “I heard from a woman at a corner shop that they tried to send their own Lewis and Clark out there.” He said. “But nature doesn't want them out there. It's just… meant to be wild. Meant to be sand and dark and stars.”

Andy thought about that, for a moment. About a place that can’t be tamed by man, not really. Not like back home, in Lawrence, or even like their camps along every island the Marine Corps sends them to. Just really, truly wild. Home to no one but itself and those who were there first.

“It sounds nice.” He said.

“Yeah.” Eddie said back.

He downed the rest of his whiskey in one go, picked up his and Andy’s empty glasses and tilted them towards the door. Andy huffed, pushing his chair out and standing up.

“Thought I was the one that made orders.” He said dryly. Eddie smiles, small and barely there, the corner of his mouth ticking up and his eyes brilliantly, brilliantly bright.

“Yeah.” He said, slowly. Like a joke. “Don’t get too used to that, Skip.”

4. i’m so constantly hungry sometimes i feel as if i’m nothing but ache

They traded the cigarette back and forth, and it was gone entirely too quickly.

Andy turned to watch Eddie, just out of the corner of his eye, just like he always did, and watched him stub the smoke out against a rock.

“You did what you had to do.” Andy said softly.

The sun, still sleeping along the horizon, wasn't showing herself. In her absence, shadows stretched across Eddie's face, making him seem older. Haggard.

“I know.” He said. His voice was quiet, his voice slightly off. He swayed slightly, where he rested on his knees, and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Andy turned to face him fully. Eddie was close enough that he could reach the hand not covering his eyes easily, tangling their fingers together and linking their pinkies.

“When this is over,” He said, “I'm going to take you to the park just outside my neighborhood, and we can watch the sunset there instead, and not worry about this. About any of this.”

From the way Eddie looked at him, Andy knows he didn't believe him. He still tightened his grip in Andy’s hand.

“Yeah.” He said. His voice was rough, like he'd been crying. He'd given his entrenching tool to Andy – it still had blood and brain matter across the flat edge of it – and wouldn't take it back. They both knew the boys were worried now, about having nightmares. They were having their buddies wake them up every fifteen minutes, so they couldn't fall too deep into it.

Eddie didn't say anything else, but Andy nodded anyway.

“One day,” He said, “I'm going to take you home. And you don't have to believe it, because I do.”

He went back to watching the sunrise, and smiled when he felt Eddie's chapped lips press to his knuckles.

5. every sentence i try to write starts with you and ends with my heart wanting to burst open, less like gates during a flood and more like a peach growing on the vine. so ripe, so ready for the fall.

“I read the book about Huck Finn, once.” Eddie said, one day, while they led their platoon down a water-swollen, muddy crevice. He was quiet, after that, and Andy looked at him sideways, keeping his eyes on his feet and the treacherous path in front of them.

“Yeah?” Andy asked, after a moment, to prompt him. Eddie blinked, like he'd forgotten he'd spoken at all, but nodded after a moment.

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “When I was thirteen. It was hard as all hell to read, it took me almost a year to get through the damn thing. But I read it. Was real proud, too. Gettin’ through that big book like that.”

“Yeah.” Andy said, trying to remember anything about the book. He'd read it, what seemed like ages ago, but trying to remember its contents or words was like trying to recall the face of a long gone childhood friend. No memory, only feelings. “Did you like it?”

Eddie was quiet again.

When he finally spoke, his eyes stayed on the ground, boots sinking four or five inches into the mud with every squelching step. “I did.” He said, vague. “But my daddy—”

He stopped, face doing something complicated, one of his hands twitching on his rifle as if, by habit, to have fingertips ghost along a scar.

Andy half-turned, looking over his shoulder and counting the helmets behind him. He counted them one more time before turning back again. By the time he did so, Eddie’s expression had smoothed back out, eyes ahead.

“He wasn't as proud that I'd read that book as I was.” He said, quietly. “He didn't — I guess he didn't much like what… what Huck Finn was. Or maybe how Tom Sawyer was. I don't know.”

Andy was quiet. He didn't say sorry. He knew Eddie hated that.

“I'll have to read it again sometime.” Is what he said, after a long moment. “So we can talk about it.”

Eddie huffed a soft laugh, and Andy, as always, was angry so quickly it made his head hurt.

He imagined a thirteen-year-old Eddie Jones, reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn whenever and wherever he could, a finger tracking the words and his mouth moving silently around them, working steadily through the pages, sentence by sentence.

He imagined the kind of father who couldn't be so goddamn proud of his son for that, who wouldn't be able to see much past his own beliefs, like rotting teeth in a crying child's mouth. He felt, rather guiltily, a wave of gratefulness towards his own father at the thought.

The anger passed as quick as it came. It always did.

“I'd like that.” Eddie said, and Andy tried to remember what they were talking about, in the split second he'd gone somewhere else. “I'd like to talk about Huck Finn with you.”

Andy wished he could let go of his rifle for just a split second, if not to just knock his knuckles against Eddie's.

“I bet I could scrounge one up by next week.” He said instead, just to see Eddie's mouth curl into a smile, and it would have to be enough.

6. i bring up your name any time i eat black raspberry ice cream with someone who isn’t you.

“I'm a shitty writer.” Eddie began out of nowhere, and Andy looked up from where he was trying to clean clotting sand out of his rifle barrel. Eddie wasn't looking at him, his face turned towards the blood-red sun.

“You're not so bad.” Andy said. Eddie wasn't, was the thing, for all he pretended to be illiterate. It made boys with similar experiences, like Snafu Shelton, laugh; and boys like Eugene Sledge, with enough money to drown in, uncomfortable.

It just made Andy smile.

Then again, everything that Eddie did made Andy smile.

“I can't spell for shit.” Eddie said. “You're the only one that can read my handwriting.”

That, at least, was true. Andy shrugged.

“I like rewriting your reports.” He said. Eddie waved a hand, dismissive.

“Whatever.” He said. “The letters are always fucking moving around, that’s their fuckin’ problem.” Andy smiled. He looked back down to his rifle and continued to unclog it. “My point is that I can't write a letter to save my life.”

Andy shrugged again, but kept his eyes focused on the rifle stock. “I can write a letter for you, if you want.” He offered. Eddie snorted.

“Nah.” He said. “I'm just… well, I’m glad that we're together, here. You know? Because if we weren't, I'd want to write you a letter, and then you'd just be wondering who in the hell gave their blind chicken a pencil.”

Andy’s chest felt warm, like there was hot coffee spreading throughout his veins, and he huffed. “Your writing isn't that bad.” He said.

Eddie turned to look back at him, for the first time, and the bright horizon dyed the side of his face a brilliant orange. His lips were twisted into their same ever smile.

“No.” He said. “But I'm glad it doesn't need to get better. I'm glad I have you for that.”

And with that, he went back to watching the sunset and Andy went back to his rifle.

Eddie leaned against him, when it was too dark to do anything but be quiet and sleep. Andy took his hands and pressed his lips to his fingers and thanked God that he was able to translate what they were able to show.

There were no artillery barrages, no death, that night. It felt like God had heard him.

8. do you remember when we went running through the wet city streets late at night, how we glowed rose-pink in the shop-lights. how we held hands and laughed and thought we’d never feel this happy again?

“D’you think he'll be alright?” Andy whispered into the dark, Eddie's curls brushing warmly against his jaw.

Eddie shifted against him, head resting on Andy’s shoulder, and said, “I don't know.”

Andy stared straight ahead. Both of Eddie's hands were tangled with one of his, and he brought his other hand around to run his index finger along the ridges of the others knuckles. “I've never seen it that bad, before.” He murmured.

Eddie sighed. It was weary, and heavy, and Andy closed his eyes to the melody of it and thought of their park, the one that Eddie's never even been to. It only helps somewhat.

“What matters,” Eddie said, slowly, like he was waiting for Andy to really understand what he was saying before he continued, “is that you got him off the line. Better for him, better for the other boys.”

Andy lifted their tangled mess of hands from his lap, resting his forehead against them. Eddie shifted against his shoulder to press a kiss to his jawline.

“Maybe countin’ blankets is like counting sheep.” He said, and Andy leaned further into him. Eddie bore the weight without any effort, but Andy still worried about it being too much. He always worried about it being too much.

That's what causes combat exhaustion. That's what causes men to break apart and start counting things they couldn't see.

“Eddie.” He said, just to say it, against the back of Eddie's hands, to his calloused fingers and warm skin. Eddie's hands tightened around his.

“I know.” Eddie murmured back. “But it's… it's okay. We're… we're right here, you know? Right here together. Here and in the park and wherever else. It’s okay.”

Andy didn't say anything. He just turned his head and buried his face in Eddie's hair, rough with ocean spray and curled with humidity.

9. it consumes us.

As Andy turned around, he almost knew what he was doing. The rational part of him knew that no one would be there, just at his shoulder. Not ever again.

Least, no one he could ever know and love the same.

But the rational part of him died two days ago.

So Andy turned around anyway, maybe wanting to say something over his shoulder to someone that wasn’t there, and between one split second and another that never came, he could almost see Eddie over his shoulder, eyes intent and bright. Could almost feel his hand in his.

#rie writes #hi and welcome to rie doesn’t know a lot about the pacific so she makes shit up to be sad some more #i hope this is ok anon because i sort of took your ask and fucking BOOKED it #anyways i did No research before writing this so everything is either shit i a) made up or b) was in the miniseries #or c) i read it in a fic somewhere i don’t remember #the pacific #hilldane #andyeddie #andrew ack ack haldane #eddie hillbilly jones #hillbilly jones #hbo war

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

New Kitten – Snippet

Summary: You are their new kitten.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Mafia!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader, Mafia!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, polyamory, soft mobsters, fluff, cuddling & snuggling

Badass kitten & her tamers

A/N: We have a look of the first months of their relationship.

Three years earlier, a few months after you got together with your men, …

“I don’t like it,” you whine as Andy, Ari and Ransom invited their business partners to your home. Now they reside in your dining room, making it their home.

You sit in Andy’s lap and run your fingers over this thick beard. He sighs as you hate having strangers at your home and would rather spend the evening with your men.

You scrunch up your nose at your guests’ behavior. One of them has his feet propped onto the table, another is stuffing the cookies you baked for your men into his mouth and one of them even dared to light a cigar.

“Darling, we will make things up to you,” Andy whispers in your ear. He runs his fingers over your neck, tickling your skin. “Promised.”

“You’ve got yourself a nice little distraction there, Barber. Can we have one too, or will your girl keep us all happy tonight?”

“Careful,” Ransom enters the room. He dips his head to glare at the man, “Y/N is our girl. No one touches her but us.”

“Oh, come on, Drysdale,” the man sneers now. “She fucks how many guys? Three. What’s one more? I can show her how to be a good girl.”

“She’s already a good girl,” Andy shoots back. “My good girl, and no one else’s. Do you honestly believe you can come here, asking for a deal and get our girl too?”

“I like me a good girl,” he just doesn’t stop. Not when Andy shoots him an angry look, nor when Ransom slams his fist onto the table. The man came to cause trouble, not for business.

“Do we have a problem here?” you hide your face in Andy’s neck as Ari enters the room. He looks at you in Andy’s arms, huffing as you cling to Andy once again.

“Well, our guest tried to get his pound of flesh,” Andy jerks his head toward the man. “From our girl. He thinks we will share our lovely Y/N.”

“That so,” Ari turns toward the man, glaring down at him. “You think we will share our girl with you? Don’t you know our girl is off-limits? No one touches a hair on her head.”

“I-I didn’t want to offend you. Last time we were here, you had a girl for all of us,” the man mutters. “How can I know things changed? It’s been barely a few months.”

“I introduced our girl to you half an hour ago,” Ransom grits his teeth. “We invited you to our home. She offered food to you. And you sit there and try to get a taste of her.”

“I think you should apologize, and leave our home,” Ari concludes. He gets his gun out and presses it against the man’s temple. “I’ll count to five and then, you are better gone.”

“You better tell Hansen to send a better man next time,” Ransom adds. “We are not interested in doing business with bastards like you.”

“He will kill me,” the man gasps. “I cannot tell him so.”

“Well, this is not our problem. You came here and offended our girl. Get the fuck out of our home,” growling the words Ari taps the gun against the man’s forehead. “Go and never come back.”

“Darling, this will never happen again. Promised.”

You giggle as Andy takes your toe in his mouth to playfully bite it. “I will not allow anyone to smoke a cigar at our home again.”

“Kitten, you know we would never share you with someone else,” Ransom purrs as he crawls onto the bed. “We will show you tonight that you only belong with us.”

“Your big bear is going to take you apart,” you shudder as Ari leans over you to kiss your neck. “Do you want us to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“I want you…” you whine. “All of you…”

Tags in reblog.

#andy barber #ari levinson #ransom drysdale #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #polyamory #mafia au #mobster!ari levinson #mobster!andy barber #mobster!Ransom drysdale x fem!reader

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silvermoose · 1 month

Text

Soon

Fanfic I wrote about The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Originally on reddit, then Ao3.

----

It was late, so fortunately there was no one around. He backed up his car so it was a good distance from the bridge.

I should be able to gain enough speed to go straight through the barrier. Drowning would be hard, but he had his seat belt on to keep him in place, and the windows open to make it easier for water to enter the car.

He cleared his mind of all thoughts. It was surprisingly easy now, he was calmer than he had been in… well, ever.

He hit the gas. The car raced forward, through both lanes towards the water, and crashed into the barrier, which didn't move an inch.

“Fuck,” he screamed out loud. “FUCK!!!”

The car was damaged, badly, but he was still able to back it up to try again. He gave himself more distance this time.

This should break the barrier, he thought, and slammed on the gas pedal. It lurched forward, but stalled, and lurched forward again. The crash had fucked something up, and the car would not gain traction.

“FUCKING HELL,” he screamed. He tried to back up again, but the car no longer moved smoothly, only in short, jerky motions. He banged his head on the wheel and let the horn go for a few seconds before lifting his head back up.

He could jump, sure, but he was too good a swimmer to stay down. If only he had the Christmas light or ropes from his parents, then he could tie a rock to himself for weight.

Fine. Police I guess. He started driving on the road again, as normal as he could given the damage to the car. He'd find a Police station soon enough, or maybe he'd get pulled over and could confess his sins on the spot. But as he drove, he decided against it; being arrested wasn't what he wanted, not really. Prison would only take him from his sister, and despite, well, everything, he didn't want that.

He found himself driving mindlessly, stalling and stopping every couple of minutes. He wasn't sure why or how, but he ended up back at his parents, which was as good a place as any.

He got out and opened the front door; they hadn't bothered locking it when they left. He went back to the car, opened the trunk, carefully picking up his sister's lifeless body. He wasn't particularly strong, but she wasn't particularly heavy, either. He carried her across the threshold and laid her gently on his parents bed. He closed the door to the house but left the trunk open, left the front door unlocked. He left the gun, since he had already emptied it long ago. Surely one of the neighbors would get worried by the sight and call the police; when the officer entered, he would go for their gun. Suicide by cop wasn't as clean as driving off the bridge and drowning, but at least their bodies would be together. He lay down next to Ashley.

“I'm not sorry,” he said to her. “This has been a long time coming. I only wish I had thought this through better, so you wouldn't have to wait so long.”

He could have used the cleaver, sure. It was good enough for the warden, good enough for the woman from 302. But its frequent use had likely dulled the blade, and he didn't want to suffer. That's why he didn't use it on Leyley, either; besides, she was too beautiful, he didn't want to ruin that. The marks around her neck from his hand left him guilty enough as it was.

They wouldn't bury us together, he suddenly realized. Even if he got the cops to shoot him, they would still separate them. Different graves, hell, maybe different cemeteries. Or cremate them separately. He went back to see her, with the cleaver this time.

“I'm sorry, Leyley, but this is the only way I can be sure”

He didn't want to; this might be the most peaceful he had ever seen her. But he had to, and deep down, he knew she'd be fine with it. He was almost tempted to laugh at how used to this he was, but he took more care of her body than he had the cultist or his parents. As he made the soup, he didn't bother adding any spices that might make it taste better; he wanted it to taste the same way her soup had tasted. When he was done, he wrapped her bones in the nicest sheet he could fine and held them close. When it was ready, he sat down to eat it. He ate around the potatoes and carrots and onions, he wanted to make sure he had all of her in him

No cops had arrived by the time he was done. Andrew grew impatient, he just wanted to be with her again. He took matters into his own hands.

“911, what's your emergency?” “I killed my sister.” “You… killed your sister?” “And the neighbor. And the warden. Ate the cultist. Killed and ate my parents, after we sacrificed them to the demon. Well, I guess my sister was the one who killed them. Oh, but I killed the hitman and stole his car. And Nina, when we were kids. And I think that's everything.” “Okay, sir, and when was the last time you took your medication? Do you have any with you now?” “What? No, I'm not on medication. This all actually happened. I need you to send an officer to arrest me.” “Okay, and are you seeing or hearing anything else unusual?” “... no.” “Okay. I can send an ambulance over, but it will take about 20 minutes.” “I need a cop, not an ambulance!” “I'm sorry, sir, but policy dictates we don't send cops for mental health crises. But don't worry, I promise our EMTs will take good care of you.” “... fine.”

He gave dispatch his parents’ address and ended the call. When the EMTs saw he wasn't lying, then they would call the police and he could go from there. He walked out the front door with Ashley's bones and sat on the pavement. He lit a cigarette while he waited, but put it out moments later.

She hated that I smoked. He waited until he saw the ambulance come down the street, lights and siren off, and he held her bones close to his chest.

I'll see you soon, Leyley. I'm coming home.

#fanfic #fanfiction #andrew graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #coffinposting #angst #tcoaal #gravesfiction

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tokiro07 · 2 months

Text

Undead Unluck ep.22 thoughts

[If I Was Green, I Would Die]

(Contents: praise)

YESSS!!! THIS IS WHAT WE'VE BEEN WANTING!!!

GREAT ACTION! INTERESTING INTERPRETATION OF THE SOURCE MATERIAL! FOUR CHAPTERS WORTH OF CONTENT IN ONE EPISODE WITHOUT FEELING WEIRDLY PACED!!!

That said there were a few cuts here and there, like we didn't actually get to see Fuuko jumping ahead through the book as Victor killed her, and Victor sadly didn't start insulting Fuuko when she asked how she and Juiz were alike, but if it meant we didn't have to spill over into another episodes, I'm perfectly satisfied with what we got

The fact that we started the episode with Victor's conversation with Juiz about reincarnation was an interesting choice which I assume was there to save space for the second half, but even more interesting was the reveal that Juiz was the one who put the card in Victor's head! That's not supposed to be revealed until the 120's! I guess that would be around...episode 60-ish, at the current pace? Though if we were getting 4 chapters per episode like this, even my original estimate of episode 44 would have been a bit slow...

As for the scene where Victor was killing Fuuko, the way they interpreted it was really interesting; not only were they showing it in a shockingly subtle manner, using ripples in water (which has been a symbol of Andy's consciousness this whole adaptation) instead of loud bangs, but they had Fuuko defiantly take the shot rather than being blindsided by it repeatedly and crying as she ran through a crowded Shinjuku. Now I do think that taking the people out of the equation was...a bit deflating, but whatever. Seeing Fuuko stand up to Victor makes for an interesting take on where the director feels she should be mentally (I'm not sure if this was Yuki Yase or someone else), and kind of makes up for not letting her point a gun at the Shueisha lady

The bulk and main attraction of the episode was of course Andy vs. Victor, which was sick as hell! It really helped that it didn't have a glaring red gel over it this time, though the green was a little distracting at points. That said, if they were going to pick a color to filter the whole fight through, green was a great choice! The blood popped off the screen with that contrast! I have to imagine they put the filter over everything but the blood, as otherwise the blood would have come out a really muddy and unattractive brown.

The bit right at the end with the book closing was a little drawn out for my taste, I think they could have used some of that time for Victor being mean to Fuuko (my wife was so excited for that part, just like I was for the gun) but I imagine that that was a pretty expensive sequence to make, and aside from it feeling ridiculously slow, it was executed very well

Two episodes left, and six chapters to go. Now that we've covered four at once here, I think we could swing three each and be fine. It certainly makes the throughlines for each episode a lot clearer! Without spoiling anything, 23 should get all of the remaining preamble for Autumn out of the way, and 24 should be made up entirely of the Autumn fight, maybe with a little extra thrown in to tease season 2 or, if we're lucky, the entirety of ch.53 to give us some falling action. It's clearly possible to get four chapters without cutting the theme songs, so if we do cut them, then a dialogue-heavy chapter like 53 would be easy!

We'll find out soon for sure, and if the last two episodes are nearly as good as this one, I think we're in for a good time!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews #uu anime

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edenfenixblogs · 4 months

Note

Hello Eden (is it okay to call you that?)

Do you have any current favourite songs? What kind of music do you generally listen to?

And do you have any favourite books? What kind of books do you like to read?

If you are okay with sharing, no pressure.

Sending you love and strength ❤️

Ah!!! Thanks for this ask @sunnenfinster! What a lovely change of pace.

Eden is fine!!!!!

Ok, so I love music and books!

Of all broad genres of entertainment media, music is probably what I follow least closely. It’s not that I don’t like it; I just am always behind the curve in my tastes. I love listening to most confessional singer/songwriters. I love folk, rock, pop, and rap. I also get a lot of music I like from the background of media like TV, Movies, and podcasts. In general, I love confessional singer-songwriters from any genre.

Fave singers (and the albums I’d recommend from them: songs I’d recommend from that album [notes]):

Jem (Finally Woken: Come on Closer, Falling for You, Just a Ride). All songs on this album rock, to me.

Sheryl Crow (Sheryl Crow: A Change Would Do You Good, [about choosing love over anger and stopping gun violence], Redemption Day [about the Bosnian war], Maybe Angels [could be about aliens or being in a cult idk but it’s a good song about misplaced belief] I love every song on this album tbh. Wall-to-wall bangers.

Missy Elliot (Under Construction: Gossip Folks, Work it)

Suzanne Vega (99.9 F: 99.9 F, Blood Makes Noise, Rock in the Pocket, When Heroes Go Down)

Artists and songs I like in general: Aimee Mann (her voice is like butter and I could listen to her sing forever); Eliza Rickman: Pretty Little Head; Sims: Icarus; Dessa: Call Off Your Ghost; Sifu Hotman: Matches (I know no other songs by this artist but I LOVE this one so much. I’m gonna go listen to it right now); Lorde: Yellow Flicker Beat; Björk: Human Behavior; G Flip: Hyperfine, Gay 4 Me, Killing My Time; Aimee Mann: That’s Just What You Are [I love Aimee’s voice and could listen to her sing the phone book. All songs off her Magnolia Album are amazing too]

And gosh. So many more…

As for books!!!! OMG! I love books so much. I love so many different kinds of books. Some fave genres include: Classic Lit, Magical Realism, Sci-fi/Fantasy/Speculative Fiction; Engaging YA Series, Historical Fiction; Culinary History and Analysis; and Mythological Retellings

Classic Lit Faves:

“To The Lighthouse” by Virginia Woolf [This contains my fave quote in all of literature. This could also never be adequately adapted into a movie. It’s a fascinating look into how people think and how we all process internal thoughts. Must be comfortable with long sentences, semicolons, and allowing sentence clauses to wash over you like ocean waves in order to enjoy this book]

“Cider with Rosie” by Laurie Lee

“All Quiet on the Western Front” by Erich Maria Remarque

“The Portable Dorothy Parker” by Dorothy Parker

“The Odyssey” by Homer, translated by Emily Wilson

“The Iliad” by Homer — both Emily Wilson’s Translation and Stanley Lombardo’s Translation

Magical Realism

“The House of the Spirits” by Isabelle Allende

“Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter” by Mario Vargas Llosa

“Bless Me Última” by Rudolfo Anaya

“Like Water for Chocolate” by Laura Esquivel

SFF Faves:

“An Absolutely Remarkable Thing” and “A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor” by Hank Green

“The Martian” by Andy Weir

The Tiffany Aching line of the Discworld Series by Terry Pratchett (“The Wee Free Men,” “I Shall Wear Midnight,” “A Hat Full of Sky,” and “Wintersmith”)

“The Locked Tomb” Series by Tamsyn Muir (“Gideon the Ninth,” “Harrow the Ninth,” “Nona the Ninth” so far)

Engaging YA

“The Hunger Games” Trilogy by Suzanne Collins

“Grishaverse” Series by Leigh Bardugo

“Shadow and Bone Triogy” (related to the Grishaverse) by Leigh Bardugo [note: I didn’t know until making this list that Leigh Bardugo is an Israeli Jew! Very cool]

Historical Fiction:

“Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe” by Fannie Flagg [the associated cookbook is very good. Also, you’ll never eat ribs the same again]

“Tracks” by Louise Erdrich [one of the most interestingly written books I’ve ever read. Has two dueling narrators. This is part of a series of books but can be read as a standalone]

Culinary Analysis History

Bree Wilson’s books (“First Bite: How We Learn to Eat,” “Consider the Fork,” and “The Way We Eat Now,” specifically) are some of the best out there. [I didn’t realize until a couple weeks ago that Bee Wilson and the classicist translator Emily Wilson are sisters! They are both extremely smart, engaging writers.]

“Omnivore’s Dilemma” by Michael Pollan

“An Edible History of Humanity” by Tom Standage

“Food: A Cultural Culinary History” by Ken Albala (this one is a Great Courses course, so not technically a book. But it’s available most places you can get audiobooks. And it’s what got me fascinated with this subject)

Mythological Retellings

“Circe” and “The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

“The Silence of the Girls” and “The Women of Troy” by Pat Barker [TW Rape]

“Norse Mythology” by Neil Gaiman

Genre Defy-ers

(These are some of my All Time Faves that can’t really be confined to any genre)

The “Outlander” Series by Diana Gabaldon [and the related “Lord John” Series by the same author] (TW: for Rape)

“The Anthropocene Reviewed” by John Green

Just Finished Reading

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Truman Capote (Wow it was so good. I haven’t seen the movie in a while but I seriously doubt they adapted it faithfully. It was so surprising!!!)

Currently Reading

“Murder on the Orient Express” by Agatha Christie

Selections From My To Be Read List

“The City of Brass” by S.A. Chakraborty

“Lessons in Chemistry” by Bonnie Garmus

“The Source” by James Michener

“The Secret of Cooking” by Bee Wilson

“Equal Rites” by Terry Pratchett

“A Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England” by Ian Mortimer

“What You Are Looking For Is In The Library” by Michiko Aoyama

“The Doomsday Book” by Connie Willis

I also love to read cookbooks from various cultures to gain insight into those cultures in a very tactile way.

Sending you love and gratitude! 💜💜💜💜

I’m always down to discuss books!

#about me #books #lit #book Recs #culinary history #historical fiction #YA #Classic Lit #Queer Lit #book worm #reading #reader #mythological Retellings #ask me stuff

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pushing500 · 7 months

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I found your posts from the rimworld tag and I'm really enjoying them! A lot of playthroughs I've read wind up either too anime or grimdark for my tastes, it's really great to see someone with a similar playstyle to me (essentially, sims with guns). Irwin is probably my favorite of your pawns, but Andy is also adorable.

Also, if you don't mind me asking, what expression mod do you use?

Hello! I'm so glad you're enjoying my Rimworld colony. I'm relieved people seem to like my play style. Sometimes I worry that people will expect more of the oft-memed Rimworld War Crimes to take place, but I can't even bring myself to be mean to Wookshys in the game, let alone the colonists I actually like.

I like your description of "sims with guns". That's very accurate!

The facial animation mod I have active is "Vanilla Textures Expanded - [NL] Facial Animation", which takes one of the more anime-esque mods and makes it a little nicer to look at (in my opinion). It adds a lot of character and makes it much easier to project fun personalities on the pawns. I highly recommend it if you're looking for a mod that stays a bit truer to the Rimworld art style!

Fair warning, the mod does clash with some modded xenotypes, though. For example, the T'au xenotype in the "Tau Armory" mod (Candlelight's xenotype) and the Kroot xenotype from the same mod are supposed to have specific facial designs, but they don't work with the facial animations. I was a little frustrated by this at first, but I already know how to draw T'au and Kroot, and I'm more than happy to extend my imagination when drawing faces for Yttakin, Saurid, and all the other xenotypes too.

Irwin is one of my favourite colonists, too, and I agree that Andy is a very cute kid :D

I drew them hanging out as a thank-you for your lovely message. I hope you have a wonderful day! <3

One last thing, if you're hoping to avoid any darker/unhappy subject matter, you might want to skip over the next post about this colony...

#asks #rimworld #gracie plays #art #my art #traditional art #rimworld art #The Animist Alliance #Thank you for the ask!!#I am very grateful whenever people say they like this colony #I worry sometimes that it's boring #But so far nobody has complained and people are so nice #Thank you all!! I love you so much.#Have a SPECTACULAR week!! <3 <3

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 years

Text

Aurora ~ Part 6

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: Andy prepares to rescue his sweetheart and Lloyd decides to just have a taste…

Warnings: SMUT 18+, very dark, non-con oral (f receiving), mean! Lloyd, kidnapping, violence

This work is 18+ only. Please heed the warnings and walk away as this story does get violent as it goes on...

Banner by @justawriterand

Mood board and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Aurora wished her life was over. Lloyd would come into her room to “check” on her. More like taste what he had paid for. At first, it was just unwanted touches to her face or neck. Soon, it became kisses in the same places. She sobbed after he left, feeling like she was betraying Andy.

Lloyd knew exactly what he was doing. He had a little time to make Rory his and he knew it. As he planned out his next move, Charles came in. “Miss Romanoff is here, boss.”

“Send her to my room, Blackwood. Have Kemp bring my bride in as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lloyd looked over the computers. He had a feeling, not a good one. There hadn’t been many threats coming from Andy’s team, and it was a little unnerving. He sat, crossing his legs to see the monitors at a distant and took a sip of his Glenlivet. “What are you doing Andy?” He asked out loud. “I know you aren’t just going to let her go.”

After a moment, he got up and headed to the room. Natasha spun when she heard him come in. “Mr. Hansen.” She offered her hand.

“Miss Romanoff,” as he took her hand and kissing her knuckles. “You brought what I asked?”

“Dresses in different silhouettes.” She motioned to the rack. “Where is the future bride?”

The door opened at that moment and Kemp brought in Rory, his hand roughly on his arm. “She bit me.”

“Well, you’re hurting her,” Lloyd said sarcastically. “And who the fuck gave you permission to touch my woman.” He withdrew his gun and pointed it at Steve.

He held his hands up. “I’m sorry. She didn’t want to get up and I knew you were waiting.”

Lloyd stared at his man. “Touch her again without my permission and I will make sure to decorate your room with your brains. Understand?”

“Understood sir.” He quickly left the room. Lloyd spun back to the women.

“Now, darling,” he looked at Rory. “Natasha here will be putting you into some dresses for our big day. Have fun and pick one.” He kissed her cheek. “Don’t try anything, Aurora,” he whispered. “I have guards just outside. You have nowhere to run.” He kissed her forehead before nodding at Natasha and leaving the room.

Rory looked at the red head, tears streaming down her face. Natasha studied her and could see what Andy had seen. She was a cute little thing, perfect for someone who was looking to run his business quietly. She turned to the rack and pulled the first dress. She walked towards Rory to hand it to her. “Andy is on his way,” she whispered.

Rory’s eyes went wide and she looked around. “What?” She breathed.

“I’m a friend of Andy’s but also a local dress maker. That’s how Lloyd found me.” She pulled a dress out. “This one, I think,” she said loudly. Nat dropped her voice again. “Andy is surrounding the building until I’m out and give them intel on you and where you are being kept.”

Rory let out a tear but quickly wiped it away. “I’m in a back room with a high window. I can’t reach it to get out.”

Nat nodded as she pulled the fabric around Rory’s body. “This is stunning I think.”

Rory barely noticed the princess gown that was wrapped around her. It was not something she would have ever wanted for her wedding dress. But then again, all she had pictured for the last few months was when she would marry Andy. Not if but when. “It looks great.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Look, the sooner you choose one, the sooner I can leave and give Andy the intel,” she whispered on the pretense of checking the hem. “Lloyd is dangerous.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I think you are right,” she said aloud. “Thank you, Miss Romanoff.” They swiftly took off the dress.

“You will be a beautiful bride, Miss Rory.” Nat gathered up her belonging and opened the door. Lloyd was waiting. “She picked one, needs to be hemmed. It’ll take a day.”

“Fine,” Lloyd said. “I want it to be perfect for my pumpkin’s special day.” Rory tried not to flinch when the sociopath touched her. He looked at Charles. “Escort her back to her room, nicely. I’ll see you soon, pumpkin.” He left the room as Natasha was led out by Steve.

Charles offered his arm like a gentleman to walk Rory to her room. She took it hesitantly, knowing if she refused, it would be devastating to her in the long run. He walked her to the room and opened the door. She barely took a step in before she was shoved up against the wall, Charles’s body pressed up against hers. “Scream and you die.” She nodded. “God, Lloyd is a lucky son of a bitch. I just want to taste what is bringing such powerful men to their knees.” He placed a bruising kiss to her lips, forcing his tongue in her mouth.

Rory bit his tongue and pushed him away with a scream. “Don’t touch me!” It was loud enough to alert Lloyd. He came running in seeing Charles spit out blood and Rory back herself into a corner.

Lloyd drew his gun. “Did you touch her?”

There really wasn’t a point in lying since the evidence was quite literally in his face. “Just wanted a taste.”

Lloyd’s face twisted in anger. He pressed the barrel of the gun to Charles’s head. “She. Is. MINE!”

Charles closed his eyes, knowing the shot was coming. Instead, her heard in his ear, “touch her without my permission again and I will paint the walls with your bowels. Understood?” He nodded and swallowed.

Lloyd turned to Rory. “Pumpkin, I’m sorry that happened.” He whipped around and backhanded Charles. “It won’t happen again.” He offered his hand to her. “Let me get you to a place that is more comfortable.”

“I’m ok,” she whispered.

“Move. Now,” Lloyd growled.

Rory didn’t hesitate. She got up and took his hand. He could feel the tremble in his hand from her. She was scared and rightfully so. She was the prize in a very dangerous game. He led her to his suite and into the bathroom. He checked her face and arms. “I’m sorry about the bruises Aurora.”

“I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt,” she mumbled, now looking down at the ground.

“I’ll change the guards. My Soldier and a new hire will take care of you.”

“I can’t escape,” she stated. “Why do I need a guard?”

“Because when I make you my queen, people will try to get to you to get to me and I can’t have that. So be a good girl and just do as I say.” Lloyd looked at her and saw the tear fall. “Don’t cry. I will make you a very happy woman.” He took her hand and placed it over his growing erection. “See what you do to me? I will make you feel so good on our wedding night. Unlike Andy who defiled you before marriage. Dishonorable.” He wiped the tear away. “Now, give me a kiss and I will walk you back to your room.”

She hesitated. But realize she need to play the long game. She leaned up and pressed a small kiss on his cheek. “I said a kiss.” He pulled at her and pressed a hard kiss on her lips, the mustache scratching her face. “Still taste good sunshine. It’ll be better when you are my wife.” He took her back to her room and locked the door.

Rory huddled down in the corner. She just had to wait. Andy was coming and all hell was about the break loose.

Andy studied the blueprints of the house where Rory was being held. While Hansen was smart in having Natasha blindfolded and driven to the house, his arrogance neglected to check for any GPS trackers. As soon as Natasha stopped and was just moving in the same area, they found the house. Jensen was quick, moving to get every detail he could find and printing it as fast as possible. The rest of the men studies it on his dining room table, making notes until Natasha returned.

Andy stood up and went to the window. The same window where just the day before, she had placed a bouquet of pink and yellow daisies and roses he had given her.

“Do you like them sweetheart?” He watched as she leaned down to smell them again, her blue dress riding up her legs slightly.

“I love them Andy,” Rory replied, standing up and turning to him. She caught him perving on her and she giggled. “Are you trying to see up my dress Mr. Barber?

He smirked, “Maybe.”

She danced her way to him and straddled his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “All you have to do is ask, my love,” she whispered in his ear, kissing the skin right behind it, sending goosebumps down his spine.

He didn’t wait. He grasped her thighs and ran her up to their room, her giggles floating around the room.

Andy snapped back, looking at the flowers that had begun to wilt. They needed her just like he did. He made a promise that Rory would always have flowers. She would have anything he could give her. He just needed to get her back. The slam of the door brought his attention back to reality and Nick stepped closer. “Andy, Natasha is back.”

Andy marched into the dining room as Natasha poured herself a drink. “That man is the worst dirtbag ever,” she raged as she threw back her drink.

“What did he say? How is she? Did he hurt her?”

“No.” Nat looked him square. “He’s protecting her. But he looks at her like some sort of meat he is getting ready to devour.” She reached for the vodka a poured another. “I bought you a day.”

Andy let out a breath. “Tell us everything.”

“I counted ten guards, two at her door. Lloyd is having his best stay with her if it’s not himself. I saw her Andy, and she looks ok. One of the men, Kemp, did bruise her but Hansen was quick to discipline. She is in the back of the house, one window, high up. She’s tried climbing up to escape but it’s too tall.” Nat stopped to think. “There is a back door, a side door, the front door and a door to the basement.”

Jensen pulled the blueprints. “Boss, there is only room that fits the description of the window.” He pointed, “here in the back. It will fit one body but its high, eight feet.”

Andy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dammit. Ok, so…”

“I can jump it.” Peter raised his hand. “I can get up there no problem. Kinda have a talent to climb.”

Nick scoffed. “I know you’re good at getting into places, but this is…” he mouth fell open as Peter was able to scale the bookcase with ease, getting up to the overlook from the second floor in less than 10 seconds. “I stand corrected.”

Peter came down and stood in front of his boss. “Sir, I’ve been on her protection since you planted me but more than that, she is my best friend. I need to help her.”

Andy’s heart swelled with pride that his girl had made his men fall in love with her. Peter had been with him ever since his family had been killed and he had moved to be with his aunt. He had taken the boy under his wing and treated him like a son before he became a soldier. “Alright, Peter you and Paul will take the window. Paul will be cover while you go in. Nick, we need as many soldiers as possible to distract in the front. They need full body armor. You and Sam will direct.” He sighed. “I’m going with Parker and Diskant.”

“Boss, do you think that is a good idea?” Sam asked. “That might put you in the line of fire.”

“I know. But I need to know she’s ok and if I get the chance to get to my brother as well, then better. You know nis coward ass is going to be waiting with her.”

“When do we want to hit? The men are ready and just awaiting orders,” Nick said.

“Dawn.”

Rory sat on the bed, looking straight ahead. Her thoughts were solely on Andy. “He is coming,” she repeated to herself. “He is coming for me.” She felt a tear slide down her cheek when she heard the lock on the door move. She quickly wiped her face and sat sit again as Lloyd entered the room holding a box. “Mr. Hansen,” she whispered.

“I told you to call me Lloyd, cupcake. I will be your husband in just a few days so you really need to get used to that.” He strutted right in front of her and kneeled. “You are so pretty. I knew that when you were 10 and I knew you would just grow in a beauty.” He thumbed her cheek and she flinched away.

“Please let me go,” she whispered. She finally looked him in the eye. “Please let me go home.”

Lloyd smirked. “You are home, sunshine. You are home with me like I was promised.” He placed the box next to her. “Open it.” She hesitated. “Open. It,” he growled as he drew out his gun. Her hands trembled as she pulled the ribbon on the box and opened the lip. Inside was a blood red dress. “Do you like it?”

Rory was silent as she continued to look at the lace. She looked up at Lloyd.

“Put it on and knock when you are ready. If you take more than an hour, I will be upset. And you don’t want me to be upset.” He kissed her cheek and left the room.

Rory threw herself on the bed and sobbed. “Andy,” she cried out. After a few minutes, she calmed herself. What would Andy want her to do? A look of determination crossed her face. He would want her to survive. She careful got dressed. The red lace was spaghetti strapped with a modest V but still showed off the swell of her breast. The A-line cut accentuated her waist and the hi-low cut showed offer legs. There were matching red heels as well. She liked the dress but wished it was Andy she was wearing it for. She knocked and waited for someone to get her.

Lloyd smiled as he heard the knock. He unlocked the door to see her standing tall, his bride in blood red. “Oh you little devil.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “So beautiful. Dinner is waiting for us.” He put her hand in the crook of his arms. They walked down the corridor to the dining area where candles and flowers decorated the table. Lloyd pulled the chair to the left of the head of the table for her and she sat.

He took his seat and a new person showed with salads. Lloyd nodded at Rory to begin, and she took a small bite, not sure of what to expect. Would he poison her? Would he feed her so he could gut her later? Ever scenario, every worry grew with each bite. Her hand trembled as she put the fork down to hide her hands.

“Something wrong?” Lloyd studied the girl.

“No, I just don’t want to fill up.” Rory pointedly refused to look up.

“Alright, well. Tell me, why baking?”

“Excuse me?”

“Baking. You opened a bakery. Must say, your muffins are delicious.”

“Th-thank you.” Rory started to pinch her fingertips in an effort to ground herself from the nightmare she found herself in.

Lloyd noticed and took her hands in his. “I’m not gonna hurt you, princess. I want you to feel good. I want to make you feel good understand?”

She trembled. “I want to go home,” she whispered.

“You are home.” He leaned in and kissed her, forcing his tongue in her mouth. He pulled her into his lap, put a hand in her hair and held her head to him. He deepened the kiss and moaned at her taste. A taste that only his brother had before. He pulled back enough to breath. “You are delicious. I want to taste more.” He kissed her again and this time her brain sparked, and she pulled back.

“I belong to Andy!” She stood up and backed herself to a wall. “I’m Andy’s,” not yours! she screamed.

The look on Lloyd’s face was something she had only seen once. It was a look that had crossed Andy’s face when he found out Lloyd had been to the bakery. A look of calm rage. He stood up and walked with eerie calm and put his hands on either side of Rory’s head. “Listen to me well, Aurora. You are not leaving here; you are never going to see Andy again. You. ARE. MINE!” He grabbed her arm just as the chef walked in. “Save it, we’ll be back.”

Rory fought against him, dragging her feet as he dragged her to her room. He threw her to the bed and straddled her. “Please,” she pleaded, “don’t do this.”

Lloyd grabbed her wrist and pinned her to the bed. “I will do whatever I want to what is mine. I was going to wait for the wedding night but since you insist on being a brat, then I’ll have to tame you a bit.”

“I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry,” she cried.

“Oh princess, you should have thought of that before.” He leaned in to kiss her again as his erection was pressed into her belly. She gasped and he took the opportunity to taste her deeper. As he pulled back, he looked at her swollen lips and grinned. He pulled his belt from his pants and wrapped them around her wrists and then the bed post.

Rory pulled. “Stop. Right now,” he barked. “I want you to feel but I don’t want you to be in pain. So stop pulling on your wrists.”

“Please let me go,” she whispered.

“No.” Lloyd climbed off of her. “Now I want to taste my prize.” His hands skimmed down her sides. She whimpered at his touch, and he smiled. “God, I love that sound.” He pushed the red lace up and saw the angelic white panties she had on. He groaned in delight. His innocent angel underneath him. “Has Andy done this? Made you see stars? Float in the clouds like the angel you are.” He rubbed against the sweet silk, and she bucked her hips. “Just a taste.” He flattened his tongue, pushed the silk aside and licked a long stripe from the bottom to the top. Belle clenched her teeth, not wanting any noises to escape, to give this devil any satisfaction. Lloyd looked to see her jaw clenched and it made him determined.

He continued with his assault, ripping the panties away, aggressively licking and sucking the sensitive flesh. “I will make you sing like a choir of angels, princess.”

Rory shook her head, refusing, fighting against the sensations. Lloyd knew how to use his current weapon of choice, as inexperienced as she was but nothing was compared to her Andy. She couldn’t plead for the end, for him to stop, to force him away. She feared what would exit from her mouth if she unclenched her jaw. That didn’t stop the tear from escaping. Or the moisture exiting from her.

“You like it, don’t you princess? You taste like the best chocolate, the best wine. And soon, we’ll be man and wife and it will taste even better.” Lloyd slid a finger in. “Oohhh, so tight still. Didn’t think my brother’s cock was so tiny but now I know.” He plunged his finger in relentlessly and Rory tried to push away.

She finally unlocked her jaw and screamed at the intrusion. “Please! Leave me alone! I hate it!”

“Hate it? No, your body is telling me otherwise.” Lloyd added another finger. “Gonna make you cum, princess. Go ahead, squirt all over me. I would bath in it if I could. You know you want to.”

“No!” Rory could feel her body betraying her as she fought against the lashes of heat across her belly.

This just made Lloyd work harder. He was a man determined, determined to get what he wanted. He wanted to see her come undone as Andy had before, as he had watched on the secret cameras. “Fucking slut, just give it up!” He leaned down and sucked hard on her clit and it tipped her over, screaming as her back arched. Lloyd though he had died and gone to heaven, drinking all of her release, bathing in the glory of her orgasm. When she was in the throes of aftershocks, he slowly let go of her and untied her hands.

He cleaned himself as he listened to her sobs. “You made that harder on yourself. Get some rest princess. We marry tomorrow.” He walked out of the room and locked the door.

“Worth it?” Charles leaned against the opposite wall.Lloyd wiped at the corners of his mouth. “Every drop.”

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #andy barber #lloyd hansen #andy barber au #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #andy barber fiction #andy barber fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #andy barber smut #aurora #Andy barber vs Lloyd Hansen

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teamhawkeye · 2 months

Note

if u wanna— all of the symbols for miss andy 🫶🏻

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

As a musician, she lives music - eats, sleeps, and breathes it. She's always listening to it, practicing her "guitar" (it actually is one but as an OoP it seems weird to call it that lol), trying to compose her own songs. She's a big fan of hard rock, soft rock, classic rock, grunge, alternative, metal, punk, psychedelic, glam rock, electronic...there's not much she doesn't like

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Andy is ambidextrous. There's not too many instances where this comes up for her to show off, but she is equally capable with either hand.

Andy had a pretty decent relationship with her parents. Jesse and Dylan were always welcome in their house and the siblings much more enjoyed spending time with Andy's parents than their own. She was devastated by their disappearance - along with every other adult in Ordinary during the AWE - but learned over the years not to look into what happened to them further, preferring to believe they died quickly than suffer what some of the children did at the hands of the different dimensions the slide projector opened portals to.

Should anything ever happen to Jesse, Andy is the only other person currently capable of taking on the Service Weapon and role of Director of the FBC. Truly ironic, since she wanted that job and wanted to fulfill that role as a child but became jaded to the concept of it before she finally left the Oldest House, and that she thought she deserved the title more than Jesse and was enraged that she was handed it so easily...but no longer wants to step into those shoes.

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

Both, technically. First and foremost, she's a light sleeper: she's had to adapt to living life on the razor's edge, always worried that the Bureau would swoop in and lock her back up in the Oldest House if they ever caught up to her, so she's always on the lookout for danger and ready to run at the first whiff of trouble.

But if she feels comfortable and safe, she can sleep well and deeply, though those instances are few and far between. Ironically, it's only really been near Alan or Jesse (and briefly, Scratch) that that ever was possible. Possibly even with Casey and Saga...we'll see

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

She can swim! Growing up in Maine, there were plenty of summer breaks from school spent going to the shore - even though the water was freezing, it helped her learn how to swim in adverse conditions and she's still a fairly strong swimmer as a result years and years later

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Andy knows how to fire a gun, but largely, she just uses her own powers in combat. Scratch taught her a thing or two about knives, so she's pretty handy with a blade too

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

That's something she wouldn't have been taught as a child or at the Bureau while in the Prime Candidate program - and I don't see her having learned it at any point up until the events of Control. Afterwards, when she and Jesse reconcile and she works alongside her, that might be something she learns.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

Oh, Andy has tried about every single vice available to her once she escaped the Oldest House and tasted freedom for the first time as a teenager. She smokes, she drinks, she's known to engage in a little blow and reefer, she gambles, she fucks -

I think she grows out of some of that wilder behavior as the years pass and she meets Alan and reunites with Jesse. while she still indulges, she would not be going as buckwild as she did as a young adult on her own.

#tbt as i realized i have to change her last name to avoid confusion with a different character agsdkahsdasd

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marvelmaniac715 · 9 months

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This is part two to that fic I wrote where Chucky possesses his human body. I was initially going to write this about Tiffany, but I decided to target the long-suffering Andy Barclay instead, because why not? Fear not, Tiffany fans, a part three to this au may be coming soon…

————————————————————-

Nica had called him in quite a panic, sobbing her way through a mostly nonsensical explanation about some nightmare she’d had. At least, Andy assumed it was a nightmare, because Nica was talking about Chucky as if he were still alive - and the last time Andy checked, he was definitely dead. Still, he cancelled his plans for the day and decided to stay inside, arming himself with a gun, just in case.

But Andy was still relatively calm. So calm, in fact, that he decided to order a pizza and put on a movie. When the doorbell ran, for the pizza delivery guy (hopefully), Andy got up and walked to the door without fear for the first time that he could really remember. That fearlessness vanished when he opened the door to be greeted by an older man with piercing blue eyes and curly white hair. If the eyes didn’t give his identity away, the bloodstained pizza boy uniform that was way too small for him made one thing very clear to Andy - this was Chucky. To add insult to injury, his pizza box had been opened, with his pizza half-eaten.

Andy had no words to say, he just stood there, arms hanging limp at his sides, jaw clenched, eyes widened in mild panic. Chucky wasn’t rushing to attack him, but he had that look on his face, the look that promised a great deal of trouble, relatively soon. After what felt like an eternity, Chucky broke the ice with a casual:

“The pizza was kinda shitty, the cheese doesn’t even ooze, so, tell whatever pizza place you ordered it from to fix that.”

The word ‘No’ left Andy’s mouth before he could process the fact that he was speaking at all. In response, Chucky laughed, shrugged and said sardonically:

“Well, damn it, here I was thinking we’d sit down to have a pizza together someday, I guess not.”

Beginning to realise that Chucky didn’t seem in a particularly bloodthirsty mood at present, Andy decided to lean into the lighthearted tone of this conversation and joked:

“If you made me eat pizza with you, I’d be sure to put pineapple, anchovies and live slugs on it.”

Chucky didn’t bat an eyelid, he merely flinched and commented:

“Weird taste in pizza, but alrighty, pal.”

By this point, both men had been standing for quite some time, so Andy decided to reenter his living room and sit down. Entirely uninvited, Chucky followed him in and sat down on a chair opposite him, shoulders tensed. It was then, and only then, that Chucky decided it was necessary to clarify:

“Oh, I’m Chucky, by the way-‘

“Yeah, I know. The eyes and the bloodstained stolen uniform gave you away. You’ll never change, will you?”

Chucky smirked, before asking:

“Do my eyes really give it away? Is it the colour, because I can get contact lenses, or is it just my eyes in general, because I could probably make sunglasses work if that’s the case.”

Andy thought about it for a moment, then leant back in his chair as he began to explain:

“Just your eyes in general. They just have a certain… expressiveness, let’s say. A certain killer gleam that gives you away every time. That’s how I always know when I’m near you, no matter which form you take.”

This actually made Chucky laugh, which made Andy feel uneasy. But as Chucky laughed, a question gnawed at the back of his mind. He felt compelled to ask it, so he did.

“So, did you steal another body, or…?”

Predicting the end of the question, Chucky leant forward and answered:

“Oh yeah, let me explain. This is my original body, a couple of my doll vessels dug me up in Chicago - at my request - and transferred their fragments of my soul into the body you see before you. There wasn’t any flesh left, just bones, so the magic did its job and aged me up to the age of my soul, any other questions or are we good?”

That actually made a lot of sense: this was exactly the sort of thing that Chucky would do, so Andy wasn’t even surprised. But he did, in fact, have one more question. Much more tentatively, he asked:

“Do you have a purpose for being here or are you just gonna kill the pizza guy, eat the food I paid for and then leave? Because if it’s the latter, that’s kind of a dick move, even for you.”

Again, Chucky laughed, and he stood up.

“I actually do have a reason for being here, I’m not just here to piss you off - although that is a lot of fun.”

For a long, agonising moment, Chucky said nothing. Feeling slightly scared, and having vivid flashbacks of his past encounters with Chucky, Andy stood up and tried to make his way to the front door, or to his gun… only for Chucky to push him to the floor and press his own gun that had been hidden in his pocket against Andy’s temple. Heart racing, Andy desperately struggled to stand up, only for Chucky to push him down again and again, gun pressing further into his temple with each desperate escape attempt. Chucky was laughing again, but it sounded more mocking, and threatening. He pressed the trigger and… nothing. Just a hollow click.

Chucky placed his gun down on a nearby coffee table with a soft chuckle before flipping Andy onto his back and keeping him down with a foot on the chest. The man was grinning now, making it clear for anybody who doubted that Chucky was alive, exactly who this was. Andy tried to choke out some form of protest or question, but he was drowned out by Chucky cackling in his face, mercilessly taunting him with a sneering:

“Oh, I’ve seen that face before. When did I see that face, I wonder? Oh, of course, a big strong man trying to fight off the scary serial killer, when deep down, he’s only a scared little boy who misses his mommy and big sister. But they’re not here to protect you now, are they champ?”

Andy gathered enough strength to spit in Chucky’s face, but this only earned him more mockery.

“Didn’t mommy ever teach you that it’s rude to spit? Oh yeah, she couldn’t, you were only six when she got taken away for insanity.”

This comment fuelled Andy with enough anger to wriggle out of his position and stand up, shoving Chucky with all of his might. But Chucky the human was stronger than Chucky the doll, so he barely moved. Wordlessly, Chucky forcibly pushed Andy into his chair and loomed over him, arms crossed.

“Let me tell you a story - you like stories, don’t you? When I was a little boy, about eleven or twelve, I had the strangest fascination with hunting. I had a large supply of food at my disposal thanks to the Boy’s Home I was staying at, so it wasn’t for sustenance, I just did it for the joy of seeing life leaving an innocent creature’s eyes, as so many boys fantasise about doing at that age, y’know? Anyway, one day, I checked some of the traps I had left out, and I saw this tiny little brown rabbit with a stuck leg. You remind me of it actually, small, brunette, kinda twitchy…”

Andy cut off this brief tangent with a hissed ‘Get on with it’, so Chucky continued as if he hadn’t heard him:

“Anyway, like I said, this little rabbit was there. It wasn’t a fatal wound, so I decided to nurse it back to health. I stitched the wound, gave it food, all of that, and after about a week, it was ready to be set free. When it was ready to leave, I went to visit it. The silly thing saw me as it’s saviour, it nuzzled its nose against my palm, with it’s eyes gleaming with such love and loyalty. It was enough to make a grown man cry, but I was no man back then, Barclay. I was just a heartless kid.”

Andy wasn’t sure if he wanted to know this ‘charming’ little anecdote ended, but he had a horrifying feeling that he already knew. All he did was gasp slightly, and that brief moment, that barely noticeable flinch, was all that it took for Chucky to realise that the point of his story had gotten across. But still, he continued.

“The rabbit thought that I was going to set it free, but of course, I didn’t. I gathered it in my arms, stroked its soft fluffy ears for a second, then I grabbed them and twisted, as hard as I could. It didn’t even try to kick, that’s how scared it was. I took that rabbit to the Boy’s Home with me, cooked it and ate it. It was the best catch I ever ate after a hunt.”

That was a… stomach churning story. But remarkably, Andy was barely surprised. All he did was stare up at Chucky in confusion, not quite sure why he was even being told this story. Seeing his confusion, Chucky grinned and summarised his story’s ‘moral’:

“That’s the day that I learnt that fear can season the meat of a kill. The long con, in particular, makes the final kill so much more satisfying. Remember when I compared you to that rabbit? Well, the comparison doesn’t end there, friend. You didn’t even notice, but I’ve been playing the long con for years, subtly dropping your guard- hell, I mean, you didn’t even say anything when I walked into your house today! Because I’ve known you since you were a little boy, a tiny part of you associates me with familiarity, no matter how much you insist you hate me. You’ve seen me more than you ever saw your father, or Mike Norris. I’m not your dad, or even your friend, but I certainly fill that paternal role in your life in a way, don’t I bud? Think about how much I’ve taught you about survival, exactly what a father’s meant to do.”

This was what finally made Andy cringe. Chucky’s view of the world had always been warped, but that particular sentiment was just… wow. Gathering some of his stockpiled courage, Andy mockingly asked:

“Well, if you’re my father, am I in your will?”

Chucky shook his head:

“Nah, I’m not gonna die, so I don’t have a will, but you probably wouldn’t be in it if I did have one.”

Andy pouted as he replied:

“Aww, I thought you loved me.”

This comment made both men laugh uproariously at the irony. Then, Andy asked on a much more serious note:

“So you didn’t come to kill me, you just came to… stoke fear and tension? Is that it?”

Chucky nodded.

“Well yeah, I also kinda wanted to show off. I’m taller than you now.”

Andy nodded.

“I noticed. Good for you, is it weird to not have to crane your neck upwards all the time to look at people?”

Chucky nodded again, then there was another silence. Finally, Chucky began heading to the door.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now. This has been fun, don’t forget to order another pizza and maybe call the police about that pizza guy.”

Not quite comprehending the fact that Chucky was just leaving casually after telling such a horrific story, Andy just barely managed to splutter out a confused:

“Wait, what am I even supposed to tell the cops?”

Chucky looked Andy right in the eye, gave him a shit eating grin and said something that it seemed as if he’d been waiting to say for years:

“Just tell them what you tried to tell the cops when you were six. Tell them that Chucky did it.”

#chucky #chucky series #childs play #charles lee ray #andy barclay #horror #fanfiction #human chucky #light angst

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chasseurdeloup · 10 months

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Hunter's Moon || Gael and Kaden

TIMING: July Full Moon SETTING: The pines PARTIES: @lithium-argon-wo-l-f and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Gael and Kaden run into each other again, under very different circumstances than last time. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death tw (mention), suicidal ideation tw (brief, passive)

The moon was high in the sky, uncovered by clouds, a soft glow around it as it sat amongst the stars. Looking up, Kaden wondered if that was a comforting sight for some people. Maybe it was even beautiful. The full moon was never any of those things to the hunter – never had been. Full moons only meant one thing: hunting. It was the three days every month that, no matter what, he would be risking his life for the good of mankind. Had been ever since he was old enough to join the hunts. What was he, twelve years old? Thirteen? Didn’t matter much because even when he wasn’t the one risking his life, his parents were. Only one of them had managed to make it back home every single time. Full moons brought nothing but anxiety, pain, and death.

He was hoping to avoid the last part at the very least. He adjusted the shotgun slung over his shoulder as he continued his trek through the woods. Andy was watching over Alex, making sure that she didn’t break out. They were covered. He should have just stayed home, up in the loft, drifting off to sleep, not worrying about what the moon looked like outside. He couldn’t, not in any good conscious. He knew too much he’d seen the dead bodies of people torn apart by werewolves. He also knew how many werewolves were probably slated to die tonight at the hands of other hunters. Neither sat well with him.

Kaden didn’t have much of a plan of how the hell he was going to be the one to mitigate any of this shit, but he had to try. The shotgun and his pistols were loaded with tranquilizers. He still had his silver knives with him, but he also had a few flares and smoke bombs. So far, the night had been quiet. He’d seen an agropelter in the distance, a deer or two, but no wolves. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change or not. Too many horrible scenarios churned through his thoughts while he wandered the woods, playing out over and over, relentless and unending. Every time he considered giving up, just forgetting it, they’d resurface, pushing him to stay just a little longer.

The chill down his spine tearing him from his thoughts was almost a relief. Almost. The pinpricks spreading across his shoulder blades were sharp and specific, unmistakable. This wasn’t any shifter or monster; a werewolf was nearby.

Kaden crouched, pulling his gun to him, readying it to be fired, careful to keep his steps soft and silent. The hunter positioned himself behind a tree with plenty of brush at its base. Even if he hadn’t been able to hear the wolf tearing through toward him, he could feel it all over his skin as the monster approached, every hair on his body standing up on end raising the alarm. For now, though, he waited and watched, lining up his shot. He wasn’t going to get a lot of opportunity to get this right.

Pain. Dark. The scent of trees and animals that had been there but weren’t anymore. A breeze rustling through the trees but not carrying anything important with it other than air that relieved some of his body heat. The lithe creature shook his head, the fur on his neck moving in a ripple afterward, licking blood off his maw after he crunched down on the hollowed bones of a bird foolish not to have reacted quickly enough for the wolf to catch it. It wasn’t enough. Gael’s lolling tongue dropped bloody feathers from his mouth, wanting to keep the flesh but not the bits that didn’t taste like anything. He lay on his stomach lazily, his back legs out behind him as he finished up his treat, flexing the powerful, clawed phalanges on his forepaws as he lifted his snout to find a lead on something else. A deer, or… something else, perhaps? Cleaning one of his paws, he got to his hind legs in a stand and used his other forearm to dig a shallow hole where he put the remnants of the bird, then took a few steps forward and used his back feet to scrape dirt over it. As he did so, the wolf swiveled his head loosely, trying to catch a stronger variant of that unusual scent and as he did so, he felt his stomach clawing with hunger. The sensation increased his need to track and find whatever it was and it pulled him in an allure, the mystery of what it could be with the unspoken promise of something decidedly bigger than a bird. Forward, to the side, to the other side, back the way he came as he placed his paws on trees and craned his neck to sniff at the bark. Something here, mixed with a smaller animal. Not the same scent. Time was irrelevant but he felt he was getting closer and one of his ears twitched, hearing faint movement through the brush. Instinctively, he lowered himself onto all fours, long arms both stretching in front of him and tucking underneath his chest as he kept himself low to the ground - he was hunting now, hunting the new scent. He crept forward, looking around acutely for something, anything– And his bright eyes fell upon a shadow against another shadow but more importantly, a gleam of light. That was where the scent was. It belonged to that brief light and before he did anything else, he lifted himself onto his back legs once more, stretching himself as tall as he could be, tilted his head back and howled. Victory, location as though pulling other wolves to see what he’d found even if he didn’t know what it was. A punctuation for the moment - a feast.

No matter how much Kaden wanted to hold onto the idea that werewolves were people, that they were otherwise human, the howls still gripped him with anxiety. There was nothing human left in the form that was stalking, creeping toward him. The beast that raised itself onto its massive hind legs was all monster, nothing but instinct and the thrill of the hunt. The hunter had heard that some werewolves could achieve some level of control over their wolf form but, even if he did believe that, this was certainly not the case there in the woods with him. The only thing he could see in the creature’s eyes was bloodlust.

Kaden remained steady, even as shivers slipped down his spine, raising his shotgun, aimed down the sights right at the monster. He was used to aiming for the heart and he had a clear shot, clearer than usual, and not that it would be a bad shot if the tranquilizer dart hit there. Instead, he wanted to hit the beast’s neck if he could. His calculations for the amount of tranquilizer he’d need to take down a werewolf were a guess, it wasn’t exactly noted in his family’s hunter journals. The best he could do was hope he was right.

And pull the trigger.

Zip.

The dart flew, pinning itself right into the monster’s neck. For good measure, Kaden let loose another shot and considered a third. But there wasn’t time. Two was risky enough. The hunter spun on his heels and took off running as fast as his legs would carry him through the brush, not daring to look behind him. He didn’t need to check to see if the beast would come after him, he knew better than to second guess that. He also knew the tranqs wouldn’t kick in for at best fifteen minutes. It could be an hour. Maybe more. Either way, he had to put as much distance between himself and the werewolf fast.

With the howl satisfyingly released, its tone beautiful and horrifying as it sounded not like human but not like wolf either, Gael cast an intense, wide-eyed stare to the origin of the scent among the trees and dropped to all fours again to make his way over - he wouldn’t start running until whatever it was did, that was a waste of energy.

Then suddenly a whistle, which caught him off guard then the sting of something in his neck. He recoiled but didn’t have time to do anything about it when he felt a second sting, then no more. Spontaneously, frustratingly, he stopped where he was. Growling and pawing at his neck, his claws fervently scratched the areas and grazed over something unwelcome. Scratching more and shaking his head for extra measure, he managed to dislodge two shiny, metallic things with sharp ends and fluffy other ends, shining in the full moonlight. He sniffed at them briefly, smelling blood on them but any curiosity he had over them was quickly overcome with rage as the sound of something running away from him pounded in his ears.

They come from that thing, they had to have and Gael wasn’t going to let this prey get away, especially not as he felt the two puncture wounds in his neck that had to have been from the creature. He broke into a sprint, starting on his hind legs but quickly deciding to use his forelegs as well for extra speed, though he used the occasional tree to give himself an extra burst of speed. It didn’t take long for him to eye his target - a non-animal creature, a new scent but a target nonetheless and he notified the figure of his presence as he caught up with a loud snarl before making a running leap, arms outstretched and maw agape, ready to clamp down on whatever it could.

Kaden ran as fast as his feet would carry him, dodging roots and rocks littered on the ground as best he could, taking advantage of any stumble by throwing himself into the momentum. Branches slapped his legs and his arms scraped against rough bark as he slid through any openings he could find between trees. His breaths were heavy, his lungs desperate for air with every lunge forward. Kaden knew the key was to control his breathing, not to let it control him, but the adrenaline and the pace made it hard to keep that control.

He dipped his hand into his pocket on a straightaway, digging for the flare he had stored. The smoke bomb was in his other pocket, ready as well. He knew he was going to need them both and he hoped they would get the job done, but it was all a matter of when to use them.

The hunter knew he shouldn’t look back, knew he couldn’t afford the precious milliseconds that would take from his time to flee. The shiver down his spine only grew stronger, he knew the beast was closing in, he didn’t have to look. But he wanted to know if there was any way to get the advantage, anything he could do to make it out of this alive.

His eyes darted behind him, trying to catch sight of the wolf in his peripheral vision, but he was tumbling to the ground, spinning over himself before he could get a glimpse of anything in particular. When his world turned back right side up, rows of sharp teeth lunged for him, clamping down into his side, tearing through his flesh.

Kaden screamed out, his vision going white from the pain. He trashed his limbs, kicking and shoving to try and get out of the monster’s grasp. Fuck. He had to think. He had to stop and think. He had to push past the pain and remember what it was he had with him. Remember. Fucking hell the pain– No. Remember.

The flare was still clutched tight in his hand. Right. He flipped the cap off and pulled the tab to light it, holding it like a torch to the beast’s face.

As it had been willed, Gael’s quarry had lost its footing, rolling and coming to a stop just in time for the wolf to descend upon him. He forced his neck forward, collecting a mouthful of the human in his jaws and his teeth effortlessly ripped through the material. Using clawed hands to keep his prey as still as he could, he felt warm blood gushing between his canines and even though the human flailed and made contact with his rippling body, he single-mindedly burrowed his snout in the hole he made in the human. ‘Sport’ wasn’t a concept the werewolf understood but he DID know what ‘fun’ was and this was unlike anything he’d ever had before. The experience was new, fresh, human flesh grazing his tongue and the exchange of energy heating the air. The scream was unique as it pierced his ears that swiveled wildly. He kept his eyes wide and a purr seemed to rumble through him. The experience didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted it to, however, as one of his ears twitched to something sharp and his bright gaze only had a second to snap his gaze in the direction of it when suddenly he was met with a hiss of burning light. He yelped, pulling his snout of the side of the human and abruptly letting go of the writhing body, spraying blood all over the dark ground as he recoiled from the menace that affronted his vision. That was also new and he liked it a lot less than digging his nose into the flesh, forcing a tail that had been swaying with excitement to bristle and pin to his hindquarters. He cowered from the light, the threatening hiss of the artificial animal and while he wanted to go around it and continue his activity, he was held at bay where he stood on his hind legs, clawing at the grassy dirt and snarling at the bloody human - the scent of violence was in his nose and his paws could’ve reached the body if he wanted but as this was an unfamiliar situation, he wasn’t sure how he COULD get rid of it… one of the human’s legs? Try to bite the arm that held the burning light? He did neither of those and instead his amber eyes danced with the fire, darting between it to the human’s face threateningly, keenly, daring him to do something else to try to get away - fire or no, he was Gael’s.

The flare worked long enough to get the beast to release his grip on Kaden’s side. He screamed in agony and wanted to writhe away, curl up into a ball and pretend that could ease the pain. He knew better. He grit his teeth and willed himself to remain holding the flare up to the monster. It had backed away but only for now. He could see the bloodlust in its eyes reflecting back in the light of the flickering flames. It would only stay back for so long. He needed something else. Kaden kicked away, sending dirt and rocks flying up from the heels of his boots at the monster as he squirmed backwards on the ground. He didn’t make much distance from the wolf, but it was better than nothing.

The ranger threw the flare at the monster’s face, hoping to throw it off guard long enough for him to wrestle the smoke bomb out of his pocket. As soon as it was in hand, Kaden pulled the trigger and threw that, too. The rest of what he needed was in his pack, the one pinned to the forest floor under his back. Arms, he had to get his arms out. He shrugged them out of the straps as fast as he could. Biting back against the pain, Kaden winced as he flipped himself over. His hands were covered in his own blood, slipping and sliding as he tore open the pack. He grabbed in and found another smoke bomb, activating it and throwing that at the wolf, too.

His fingers found a few more flares and his pistol. Kaden took them all and started to crawl away. The world around him was getting fuzzier, his body felt both lighter and heavier at the same time. Shit. He didn’t have long to get away. If he didn’t, he would die here.

The last spike of adrenaline shot through him and Kaden pushed himself to his unsteady feet, pistol in hand, aiming the barrel in the direction of the wolf. The distance between them was covered in smoke, the ranger couldn’t see the beast well enough to hit it even if he wanted to.

Part of him wanted to.

No. He used what was left of his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins to run, get away, ready to light another flare if he needed to.

The werewolf didn’t know how long the flare would last but going by how the human struggled to get away from him, kicking up stones and clumps of dirt and bringing him more screams of pain, it probably wasn’t going to last much longer. Carefully, keeping his eyes on the human keenly, his tail started to wag again with the latent excitement of sinking his teeth into the meat, the adrenaline in his limbs making him hop over a few steps, getting a little closer–

Then in another unexpected twist, the human threw the thing at him. Surprised yelps tumbled out of Gael and he pinned his ears, hastily retreating a few more hops and dancing around the burning light, growling loudly at the human and deciding to move on towards him - the small fire wasn’t anything he needed to be lastingly afraid of. Dropping onto all fours again, he bared his blood-slicked fangs once more, clacking them and getting ready to pounce again. Yet another twist, making this rather simple night decidedly not-simple anymore was something colliding with his shoulder - he hadn’t even noticed that the human must’ve pulled something new from somewhere else while he was distracted with the fire that was thrown at him and as soon as whatever it was made contact, it exploded into foul-smelling smoke. He raised himself onto his hind legs again, backing up as his vision started swimming and his nose and mouth were filled with the odor and his original activity of tearing the human apart was overwritten with the new one of ‘get out of the smoke’. So he did, snarling loudly and swinging his head around as his blurry vision just saw smoke and the remaining light from the fire. He was confused but more importantly, he was getting mad again and ultimately he decided to make a dash forward in an attempt to get out of the cloud but everywhere he turned seemed endless in the smog that surrounded him. He was turned around, having lost the scent of the human he had pursued and by the time he finally seemed to find his way out of the haze, he turned his blurry gaze to the ground where the human was… gone. The werewolf lifted his head, rubbing at his nose as he went to the spot where the hunter was before, keeping his head low to the ground. The iron of blood managed to make its way back into his sinuses and he jerked his head to follow it when his bright amber eyes fell back upon the visage of the human limping into the brush. Snarling, he broke into a sprint to cover the distance between the two bodies and yet… He didn’t run for long, panting as he slowed down considerably though he felt himself pushing forward. He stopped, his tongue lolling out of his sticky mouth, and he stretched his back legs out behind him once more. As though something washed over him, he found it difficult to keep himself focused. Between the stench of the smoke, the light of the fire still in his eyes and the stinging on his neck, he pulled himself back onto his feet with a soft whine and he all but abandoned the chase, suddenly deciding that he needed to find somewhere to curl up. He was exposed and suddenly aware of how tired he was, though he didn’t understand why. But this was an exciting night… he’d tasted human flesh for the first time ever. He wondered why he hadn’t before… and when he could taste it again.

Kaden was slowing with every step. He could barely keep himself upright, but he kept going, kept pushing as far as he could make it. Just one more step, one more, it could be the difference between life and death. He couldn’t tell if his hunter senses were fading due to distance from the werewolf or from the blood loss. The edges of his vision were going black, blurry. He stumbled, lost his footing, and fell to the ground. There was too much pain to determine its origin. It was too much. All of it was too much. It would be easy to just let it all fade, to let the darkness–

No. He couldn’t. Let it. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, crawling, ever inch in agony. Trail, nearby. He was pretty sure. He just had to get close. And hope that someone found him. Hope that it was someone and not something. In this town, it could be anything. Just had to make it to the trail. When his arms gave out, he kept going, clawing into the dirt with his fingers, determined to find someone, to not be alone, to make it, to…

The adrenaline had faded. His strength was gone. The black had crept in, his vision faded away, and the world went dark.

#writing #wickedswriting #para #c: gael #lithium-argon-wo-l-f #hunter's moon

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ellemany · 1 year

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Chamber and Harbor: An Unnecessary comparison

Like, we are all giving up on Chamber at this point. I'm not judging, I'm also letting him go. I mean, we are all Andy changing toys here.

But, should we?

I'll make a comparison between our newest boys that no one asked for but we should think for reinforce our arguments that Harbor is better.

(There's NSFW at the end of the post, nothing specially explicit but it is still me being thirsty for boys that don't exists)

Design

Chamber

Stylish (I like it ok?), not practical

Idk if men need a tie for shooting someone. But, apparentely, Chamber needs it.

Cool Watch

Gold tattoos

Hair 7/10

Nice boobs

Bonus headcanon: He has an one side dimple

Harbor

Tactical clothes, more usuful for a shooting

Good colors

Literally, a Ben 10 watch and the Infinity Stones

His tattoos screams straight man at the gym

Hair 9/10 (good loose bun)

Interesting bíceps, I would like to study it better

Bonus Headcanon: He has the funny habit to play with his mustache when he is distracted

Agent Trailer

Chamber

8/10

I like how we kind of got what his skills are, but there's a whole mistery around him like "Is he frindly or an enemy? What's his story?"

Also, good choice for a soundtrack

Don't you dare to look in my face and say that you didn't thought that he was hot as hell at the time

Harbor

7,5/10

"Alvida" *screams in fangirling*

Cool powers

Generic backstory but it works

Bonus: Both messed up with Brimstone in the time that they met 🥰

( If you're wondering, my 10/10 Agent Trailer is Neon's one )

Selection Screen

Chamber

6/10

Baby boy is trying too hard to look badass

Harbor

8/10

Straight out from Bollywood movie (but it's not Astra's selection screen so... No 10/10)

Chracteristics

So, in my opinion, Chamber looks skinny and has some pretty long legs (considering his art). While Harbor seems to be more muscular. I have a headcanon that even thought both practice swimming, Chamber is more into aerobic exercises (breathe control is essential to a good shooter and I think that his telephoter has a height limit) and Harbor is into anaerobic exercises (Ancient artefacts are rough to carry)

In short

Chamber is fast

Harbor is strong

Chamber's personality

Gun Nerd

Jokes like your uncle in Christmas

Egocentric

Show-off

Questionable flirting skills

Musical taste: 5/10 (at the beginning you try to like it but, after a few minutes, you start to question all your life choices)

Now, I must defend my older babyboy. He might be a faker, trying to earn everyone's trust just to probably stab us all in the back BUT when he get his pet gun and starts to having fun killing people it's so... Adorable. C'mon, sometimes a man just needs to be a kid with his toys to gain a girl's heart.

Oh yeah, He might be a genocide too, only a detail

Also, Chamber canonically can play the piano

Harbor's personality

History/Architecture nerd

Actual funny

Often uses "we", good at teamwork

Show-off

Some flirting skills, might work

Musical taste: 10/10 (I AM THE RAJAAAAAAAAAAAA)

I like how genuine he sounds in his voice lines, it's very cute

Headcanon that he plays the ukelele

Gameplay

Chamber

Aim is needed, not for me

Nerfed every time

RIP Marks

But it's cool to use Rendez-vous at the Range at least

His ult voice line is 🤌🤌🤌

"Wanna play...""NO I DON'T WANT TO PLAY LEAVE ME ALONE 😭😭😭😭"

Harbor

Very fun

Pretty abilities (Sorry Viper)

Bulletproof smoke and his wall are pretty op if used right

Still needs abilities and idk how to think propely in this game

Badass ult, regular voice line

"I suggest you move" "oh, such a gentleman, I will move for you"

Who's better in bed?

Chamber fucks, Harbor makes love

That's it, that's the argument

Also, friendly reminder that even by some reason French people are know as deeply romantic and more opened to new experiences, Indians that created the Kama Sutra

So yes Love can be made in any way

That's all, hope you liked it

#me kind of trying #valorant #valorant chamber #valorant harbor #seemed fun in my head #Spotify

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nothingunrealistic · 1 year

Note

more bold mini fic taylor philip prompts with 9

9. things you said when i was crying

Swimming in the ocean off Southampton, with Prince’s beach house dominating the horizon, is transporting, almost surreal, until the first faceful of salt water. At that point, it’s not too different from swimming at any other beach.

The third wave to break in Philip’s face finally spurs him to return to dry land and save himself from salt poisoning. He swims, then wades, to shore. The sandpipers scurrying through the surf scatter at his approach; it’s more attention than anyone else on the beach is paying him. Wendy’s sitting right on the sand, staring at the horizon and letting the ocean wash up around her legs. Scooter and Wags are trying desperately to match Sacker’s skill in skipping stones on the waves. Tuk and Rian are tossing a Frisbee with Winston and entreating him to let them bury him neck-deep in the sand. Peach is rubbing sunscreen into Kristy’s back. Victor is hitting on the hired lifeguard. Prince is tending a dozen burgers on a portable grill while Andy lounges on a nearby blanket.

Philip passes them all by, heading to the pop-up cabana just this side of the fence around the dunes. In its shade sit an army of coolers, provided by Prince’s endless but currently unseen retinue, and Taylor, in a chair they must have dragged down from the pool deck or convinced someone else to drag for them. Maybe Ben, who’s hovering at their shoulder and interrupts his own conversation with them to say “Hi, Philip.”

“Hey, Ben. Taylor.” Philip rifles through the coolers — they really should be labeled — until the water bottles turn up. He selects one, sips, swishes, and spits out that first mouthful, as discreetly as he can manage, to clear away the taste of salt. Ben and Taylor don’t seem to notice, embroiled in their hushed but animated discussion of… something. He’d guess it’s about the book in Taylor’s hands, but the title is indecipherable from this angle, even when he seats himself on a cooler, and the cover photo of an orange cat and a man with a gun explains nothing.

Taylor turns away from Ben to cast a critical eye on him and the cooler. “Not sure that’s rated as furniture.”

“I’ll replace it if it breaks.” Philip shifts his weight. Feels sturdy enough. It’ll do fine. “This take you back to those company trips to Miami?”

“Somewhat. More sedate. Fewer palm trees.”

“Definitely more sedate,” Ben says. “There was one year — most of us were staying in the Four Seasons, but Axe invited us to his house in Indian Creek for brunch on the waterfront. We’d just started eating when the seagulls came. Hundreds of them, pecking us, stealing the food off our plates and out of our hands…” He shudders. “It was Hitchcockian.”

“Was this before I joined?” Taylor asks. “I’d remember something like that.”

“No, you went on that trip, but you were still downtown that morning. You said you were following up on a connection from the night before, in that club we all went to? Doing the power breakfast thing?”

“Yes. Networking. I do remember that.”

Ben nods, obviously relieved to have it right, and heads off toward the game of Frisbee. Poor guy has no idea what conversation he’ll get pulled into there. Philip looks over at Taylor. “Networking, huh?”

“Of course. It was a business trip,” Taylor says, very evenly. He almost believes them.

“So we know how Ben remembers the not-so-good old days.” They can decide whether to take the implied bait of what about you?

Taylor sets down the book and folds their hands. “Axe had a house out here. Down the road a few miles. Bought it in 2015 and made some waves.”

“Rings a bell.” He’d been at Stanford at the time, but the headline in the Post had made it coast to coast: BEACH BUM!

“He convened a war room there once, to handle a muni-bond deal that went bad. During the afternoon, we adjourned to his piece of the beach. Someone found a football to toss around. It ended up in my hands. And my first throw must have surprised Axe, because it hit him in the face.”

Philip laughs. “How’d he take that?”

“Once he was sure he wasn’t bleeding, he complimented my spiral.”

That sentence sounds like it should keep going, but stops short. Taylor produces a pair of sunglasses from somewhere and puts them on, despite the ample shade of the cabana, and appears to be suddenly very interested in the still-expanding Frisbee game, which now includes Sacker. Only a quiet sniff and ragged exhale suggest that Philip might be wise to make himself scarce.

He doesn’t know — not in full, not for certain, not beyond the details gleaned from office gossip and that book of Wendy’s — what exactly went down between Taylor and Axe in their yearslong history, and he figures he never will. What he does know is that when they mention Axe at all, they paint him as more myth than man, preternaturally skilled in bending people, institutions, and events to his liking, even beyond what your average decabillionaire can pull off. Usually, the only part of the picture that changes is how much Taylor bent under his influence. It’s strange to hear them talk about him like they might any other former colleague. Like, maybe, someone they miss. It can only be stranger for them.

“My dad’s from Georgia,” Philip says. “Most of his family still lives down there. When I was growing up, we’d go visit them every year or two. Usually at Easter or Thanksgiving, to get the most out of trading New York weather for Brunswick.”

“The Golden Isles.”

“Yeah. Once every trip, we’d go to Barbara Jean’s for lunch. All of us took up four or five tables pushed together. Beach was maybe five minutes away, so we’d head there afterwards, and take the bread left over from the table to feed the seagulls.”

“That’s not recommended,” Taylor says, though with no bite. It’s an observation, rather than a demand that he drop everything and repent for feeding wild animals.

“They’d catch scraps in the air if we threw them high enough. They’re agile birds.”

“Sure.”

“So when some other interns at the AI Lab went to the beach one summer, I brought a bag of stale sandwich bread, torn into pieces.” Philip takes a mostly-unneeded drink to let that image hang in the air longer. “It was an hour’s drive. The water was cold. And the seagulls just watched me throw that bread and pecked the crumbs off the sand.”

“Disappointing.”

“To say the least.”

“And is this where I share my own treasured memories of childhood beach trips?”

“No, this is where I tell you the moral of the story. You can’t repeat the past. Don’t let nostalgia fool you.”

Taylor doesn’t move a muscle, but he’d swear that behind those sunglasses, they’re looking sidelong at him.

“I see,” they say. “Thank you.”

(send me a ship and a prompt and i’ll write a mini fic)

#inbox #unproduciblesmackdown #billions #taylor mason #philip charyn #ben kim #sometimes i write #soundtrack: saturday in the park by chicago #prince's house is located at 700 meadow lane. in case you were wondering #taylip

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