;; my skin is finally free

A Throne of Lies - (Bucky x Reader one shot)

For @bionic-buckyb‘s 5k writing challenge. Congratulations on 5k!!! You rock!!!!

Summary: I could still see him. I could feel his betray digging deep into my heart, clawing it open. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder… why?

Fandom: Marvel (AU)

Y/N: your name

Warnings: angst, mentions of mafia, language.

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve been MIA for weeks. I’m really sorry, please don’t kill me!!! I’ve been incredibly busy. Hope this makes up for it!

#26: “You can’t keep hurting me, and think everything is going to be okay. I’m done”

Pairing: Bucky x Reader.

Originally posted by xopsychogirlxo

Y/N’s POV:

As the only daughter of one of the biggest mafia heads of our time, I never expected to marry someone I had chosen and I loved. I knew that since I was eleven, I knew the fairy tale marriage was something I would never get to experience.

And I never cared.

But now, as I run through the garden with hot tears burning my eyes, I realize I was wrong. I want someone to love me, to hold me and make me feel safe. I wanted to know I was going to spend the rest of my life protected and appreciated. But, above all, I wanted someone to respect me.

The sun fell from the sky a long time ago, and it now shows little diamonds glinting softly around the full moon. Heavy clouds travel lazily, creating occasional ponds of moonlight that soak the numerous bushes of white roses that claw my arms.

My legs are screaming for me to stop running, but that pain seems the only thing that can blur the image that is imprinted in my brain with fire.

Suddenly, my knees give in and I fall hard to the ground in between the white roses, some of which have turned red with my blood. I hold my weight with my shaky arm, tears soaking up the ground. Inside my mind, I can see him. He looked so similar to the day we’d met…

I had been told I was getting married to that man, liked it or not. So my first feelings towards him were immediately of hostility… But as soon as I exchanged a few words with him, everything changed.

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sasusaku week, day one: favorite canon moment - chp. 56/forest of death

happy ssweek everyone! i hope you enjoy c: (written from sakura’s POV)

I could hardly feel my body, as my heart beats against the cage that my ribs created.

The way she held onto my hair tore at my scalp, an intense burn rising in my skin as she pulls harder. The amount of force that she bestowed upon my body, and although I was scared shitless, I couldn’t give up. The way my kunai soared through each strand of hair, releasing my body from hers felt great. Something snapped from within, and it told me to fight.

I feel lighter now, as my hair hardly reaches my shoulders, but my body is beaten to a pulp and bleeding. I hurt everywhere, and I’m so scared, but I need to protect them both. I won’t give up.

Lee came to help me, but he’s hurt and they’re going to come after me again, but I’ll stand to my feet and fight again. I will fight until I die, because if that’s what length I need to go to to protect to two of them, then I’ll do it; because that’s what this forest is called, The Forest of Death. I’ll poise my kunai, hold it out in front of me and protect Sasuke and Naruto.

I’ve fought hard, and even though Team Six came to my rescue, I will never forget the way they entered the fight.

Ino, who was always fearless and strong looked scared to death.

And Shikamaru, the lazy genius who Ino probably persuaded to come help.

Then there was Choji, who looked the least bit of interested in helping. Without Team Six, I would’ve died, but I would’ve died fighting to save my own team.

Everything was spiraling out of control, the way Ino used her Mind Transfer technique, and Shikamaru with his Shadow Possession Jutsu.

My fingers were trembling while my body pulsed with pain. I could feel my chakra depleting from my fight with the Sound shinobi. As much as I want to look at this as a rescue, I look at this like a tag team. I’ll get my revenge once these three get tired, but until then, I’ll concentrate on restoring my chakra and continue my fight.

A low breeze catches hold of falling leaves, and while I can hardly blink my right eye due to the swollen skin, I catch sight of something eerie.

The purple glow is something out of this world, but as I see all the worried facial expressions, I manage to turn my own body and meet the sight of Sasuke’s restored body.

“Sasuke-kun,” I whimper from my spot in the dirt.

His eyes are glowing with anger, his body painted in ink black markings that cover his left arm, up to his neck, and marking his face. He stands with such authority, that I begin to feel my body tremble with something that’s not fear.

Rather, I feel scared for him.

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anonymous asked:

Chiming in to say that I agree in general that a female character doesn't have to be tough or "badass" to be a strong character. This is a thing that lots of movies do too; think making a female character kickass makes them strong. No. Good writing makes a strong female character. I think Luna's characteristics were being calm and being self-sacrificing. Not very compelling things if she doesn't have other characteristics as well. Aranea, Cindy, and Iris were all better written.

Hi Anon!! Thanks so much for dropping by to share your thoughts!

Originally posted by gameraboy

To me, the word “bad ass” can mean lots of things. Sure, it means being able to best someone in a fight (i.e. Iris and Aranea), but it can also mean being smart, witty, intelligent, and/or just overall a unique, cool character. All the female characters (and Luna in Kingsglaive, not the actual game) are all bad-ass in my eyes for tons of different reasons, but I totally agree with you that well-written is a key element. 

Kingsglaive Luna was, for the most part, well-written. Having watched the movie before the game was released, I had high expectations for her. I expected her to be strong-willed, self-sacrificing (which, for a good cause, can be bad ass, too), and interesting to listen to. When I saw her in the game, I was a) surprised that her character design was so different and b) disappointed that her role seemed to have been shaved down so much for the story. 

Oh, and let’s not even get started on her “big speech” scene in Altissia. Like, what a let-down. Not her fault, mind, just bad writing and/or half-assed translation on the part of Square Enix (I have yet to watch it in Japanese, maybe it’s better…?) 

Anyway, long story short, I completely agree with you and feel like if SE had taken more time to develop her character and give her more lines, she would have been more relate-able and likable as a main character :) 

Dark Showers

“Hey love do you Trust me?” I asked Anya.
“Yes baby” she replied in her see tone.“
"Anya, do love me babygirl ” I said seeking reassurance
“ Baby you know I love you with every ounce of me. Is everything ok?”
“Oh Yeah all is well, I promise. I just want to do something different tonight is all”
“You want to try something new. What is this something?”
“You trust me so it’s all good, I promise. Head to the bathroom.” She did as instructed? I wasn’t too far behind, I grabbed a few thing I had picked up on my way home and proceed to join my woman. “Can I undress you” I asked quietly before planting a kiss softly on the back of her neck.
“Yes” was her subtle reply as she exhaled. I hit the light switch and started the shower. The glow from the room light under the door created just enough light to highlight bae’s silouhette. It was even better than I had envisioned in my mind. I leaned over kissed her neck once more as a silent thank you. I reached into the shower turned on the water and adjusted it to the right temp.
My attention was back on my monarch. I knee the anticipation was only mounting inside of her. I wouldn’t keep her waiting too long, but I had to admire her curves in the shadows. She them fully illuminated was a thing of beauty, but seeing just her outline made it so much more enticing. I stepped in closer to her I rested my hands up her shoulders gingerly, I could feel her jump ever so slightly. I slid my hand under each spaghetti strap and began to slowly lower house down her torso. once down to her hips I stopped. I dipped down and planted my lips upon hers , pulling her into my embrace. Multitasking as we kissed passionately I began to unstrap he lace bra. To me there is just something about the feel of her heavy warm breast and my skin. The negligee hit the floor as I slid her arms free. Finally liberating my lips from hers I made my way to her lower body where her shirt yet awaited me. My love had a pair of sweats so there was not much work involved in retiring the rest her garments to the floor. Still knelt before my goddess I ran my face along her inner thighs as I caressed each ass cheek. I took my full lips and brushes them ever so slightly against her lower set. A little honey had escaped her jar and made it to my lips, oh how I loved the way she tastes.
It was time I ushered her into the shower where the warm was waiting to cascade down her caramel skin tone, rinse the troubles of the day away. I grabbed my surprise and swiftly joined her so we could realestate together and focus on eachother. I sat my surprise to the side and allowed my baby to enjoy the wamth. I could only envision how the water would bead up and travel the beautiful curves and contours of her body. I saw my self as one such bead and making my way from head to toe. Exploring all her nooks and crannies along the way. The water tasted so much better after have be sweetend by body. Her nipple we’re fully erect though I know she was no where near cold.
“Baby can I bathe you tonight, can I wash your day away?”
She grabbed the back my neck pulled me through the water to meet her on the other side. She kissed me with so much passion my knee almost buckled. “I would love Nothing more than to have your hands rid me of the troubles of the day.” I grabbed the first gift I purchased it was a peppermint soap. Squeezed a decent amount in my hand and began to stroke her with care. I grabbed the loofah so we could exfoliate her skin. It wasn’t long before I knew she was feeling her skin tingle. I had sudsed up her body well but care not to tamper with my honey jar.
It was time for her second gift. I reached up and grabbed a small package I ha place along side the soap. I tore it open, and through the ruling of the paper and the Sound of the shower I was almost certain I heard a moan. I put the small vibrator around my tongue as the box had instructed, when I read the instructions earlier. Kneeling before my I hiked her leg up on the built-in seat had dove I to my honey jar. She buckled under the tongue thrashing I was giving and I hadn’t even turned on the contraption yet. I was jamming to her soundtrack of “Oh shits and Fucks.” I pulled back and her grip on my shoulder loosened. Little did she know the was more in store. I turned on the vibrator and dove back in search of her clit. When i hit it and her grip got three times tighter. I thrashed about her pussy we no regard to the shower rod her other had grabbed a hold. Her leg locked and I all heard was the shower rod hit floor ringing and she cried out “SHHHHIIIITTTT”

Now I’m looking for the Mimi/Niko shower rod.

Don't Poke Me

Submitted by: http://tlbodine.tumblr.com/

Length: Medium

I have a friend who is extremely ticklish. 

Ticklish to the point that you don’t even have to touch her; just raising a finger and drawing it close to her sides will make her squirm. She laughs that uncomfortable, manic giggle and draws up into herself, the defensive stance of an armadillo, and it’s hilarious and adorable. 

And I guess this makes me a bad person, but the more she begs me not to tickle her, the more I want to. 

If she didn’t make such a big deal out of it, you know? 

I catch myself thinking about it sometimes when we’ll be out in the park, or riding in a car together, or strolling past the shops down on Main Street. I’ll see the expanse of her side, the way her shirt bunches up against her torso, and I’ll get the urge to poke her. 

But it’s like she has a sixth sense about it; before my hand can get in close, she’ll jerk away and laugh and squirm, but I could swear sometimes I see something else in her eyes. Some dark, hooded look, like fear. 

Still, the urge to push my luck was overwhelming. It was like curiosity, that terrible gnawing feeling of wanting to know what’s on the other side of a locked door. 

But I got her good, finally. 

She was sitting on a park bench, reading a book in the fading afternoon sun. I crept up behind, quiet, stealthy, barely holding in my own laughter; it abbreviated each breath into a stifled pant. But she didn’t seem to notice my approach, and when I came within reach I lunged, extending both hands to reach around from behind. 

I goosed her, fingertips dancing up and down her ribs like playing a xylophone. 

But she didn’t laugh. 

She didn’t squirm. 

She sat bolt upright, as though frozen in place, and let out a breathy gasp of shock. From my angle, partway beside, partway behind, I could just make out the edge of her eye - wide and rimmed in white. 

She began to writhe. Or - no. Her skin writhed. It rippled as though something were trapped beneath it, thick ropes twisting just under its surface, pushing outward. Her mouth opened, as if to scream; her eyes widened further, impossibly huge, the eyeballs rolling backward and revealing whites lined with bulging red veins. 

The flesh of her face seemed to rearrange, somehow, like butter softening in the sun; her features melted and sagged. Her mouth fell in an asymmetrical gash, chin dropping to her chest, teeth coming loose in sagging gums and protruding up at odd angles before falling. They hit the grass with a soft patter. 

I stood, frozen in horror, unable even to withdraw my hands, as the ropes beneath her skin twisted and bulged and, finally, burst free. 

I felt the the warm spatter of blood wash over me; it felt like a viscous goo, and it seemed to spread and slide over my body in a way that didn’t feel like blood at all. It felt like globs of semi-liquid gelatin that clung to my clothes and pores and, somehow, spread. 

But I was distracted from that by the… thing… standing before me, where my friend had once been. 

The park bench sat on its edge, knocked aside - despite being solid concrete, despite likely weighing several hundred pounds - and standing near it was…a thing I have no name for. 

It was about my friend’s height, but broad. At first, it seemed hugely fat - and then I understood that what I was seeing was not its body but tentacles, hundreds of them, thick muscular ropes of flesh that writhed like snakes. That’s what I had seen under her flesh; that’s what had burst out of her body, spattering me with gore. 

The creature’s actual body was slim and shapeless, more like a tube of meat than anything. Tentacles waved, snakelike, from all directions; they were the purplish-pink hue of uncooked steak, and dripping with the same viscous gore as now covered me. 

It turned to face me, if you could call it that - for it had no face. Merely a wide, misshapen mouth, with a single huge white eye centered above it, lidless and staring. 

The huge white eye fixated upon me, and its gaping mouth gaped ever wider. Tentacles twisted toward me, extending, and in my mind I heard a thought, crystal clear, as though spoken into me by telepathy. 

“I told you not to poke me.” 

Credits to: http://tlbodine.tumblr.com/

I just got my license.

The state trusts me to not put lives at risk when I get in a car.

My parents do not.

Maybe they know more than the state.

Maybe they know more than I do.

Maybe they just aren’t ready to buckle up their hearts into a vehicle as faulty as me.

I’ve never spoken about it.

But I wonder if they can tell.

I know they fear the news.

A missed signal,

a broken street light,

a deliberate glance

a pulled steering wheel

and suddenly ill fitting skin is finally free.

My dad tells me to pay attention to how the lines and lanes meld into one.

My mom tells me to not pay attention to the music because someday I’ll be alone and have no one to skip the next song in the playlist for me.

There are rules for what I must give attention to and what I must not.

I know they worry.

But I think I can be okay.

The miles will be piled up behind me

But I’ll come back to them.

I don’t want to crack the door anymore.