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kopfkino-o · 2 months

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The Seer's Stone - Chapter 6 (Az POV)

Summary: Azriel is being pushed to his limits, driven half-mad by his increased workload, Koschei’s recent movements, and the unaddressed feelings still hanging between him and Elain. His mind is at war with himself, thoughts and regrets constantly battling with him, but when an old acquaintance comes calling he feels compelled to answer, bound by loyalty and duty he sets off to find what very well might be his own damnation.

Pairing: Elain x Azriel

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1970

Read:

Chapter One | The Crone’s Trade

Chapter Two | The Oracle of Seraphyros

Chapter Three | Last of Our Kind (Azriel)

Chapter Four | An Empty Seat

Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn - UPDATED

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! More below 💋

PHEW! After several months of insanity (see: moving to a new city, taking on several new projects at my day job as a graphic designer, getting engaged, traveling to Europe to be in a friend's wedding, hurting my knee again (rip lmao), and the general chaos of being alive) I am so excited to be back writing again. And even more excited to share this latest chapter of the Seer's Stone with the world.

Writing took a back seat within my life last year, due impart to the aforementioned chaos, but also due to some personal anxieties I had about sharing my work. It's irrational, I know, writing is writing, art is art! But still, I found myself lacking confidence and facing a ton of writer's block, but I found some new inspiration through my professional creative work, had a few friends that really helped to cheer me on, and had a lot of downtime after my knee surgery to think about and play around with my craft. All that being said, I'm really really glad to be back at it and revisiting this story, and learning through writing fanfiction.

My plans for the fic haven't changed (too much), but I do think I ought to note that I made some edits to the last update, Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn, that I feel like I just needed to make to provide clarity/build up for the direction of the story.

Lastly, I just wanted to say thank you to the folks who reached to me about this fic even when I wasn't actively updating it and offered me support/encouragement. This meant so so much to me, more than you all probably know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that.

This one's for you guys.

xoxo, Court

There was a building headache in Azriel's temples.

Every beat of his heart reverberated through his skull like a war drum. Azriel worked his jaw, grinding his teeth. There had always been something about the dank darkness of the Hewn City that pressed down on him like a fist, but the hateful place was particularly grating tonight.

Wrong, his shadows murmured, this place is wrong

"Hush," he snapped back at them, in no mood for their whisperings.

The floor shifted underfoot, and the long, stone passageway changed before his eyes, writhing as if it were a living thing. To anyone else, the illusion might have been nauseating, but these tunnels and their strange enchantments had become second nature to him during the time he served beneath Rhysand's father.

The old High Lord had personally keyed the spells into the oily stone walls to prevent his captives from ever learning the true layout of the tunnel system. And, perhaps, to also remind them they were so far beneath the earth they could only dream of feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces again.

He had been cruel like that.

Azriel rounded a bend in the stone and found himself in another long hallway carved directly into the mountain. Only this hallway was lined with ancient, half-rusted cell doors—cells that housed the worst of the Night Court's filth. Or at least, what was left of them.

Halfway down the corridor, Feyre and Amren were waiting for him outside one of those cells, the High Lady and her second-in-command half-concealed in shadow, their whispered voices echoing queerly off the rock walls.

Both females fell silent when they caught sight of him. Something twisted in Azriel’s gut. For them both to be here, in the dead of the night, with Nyx still so young and Varian here in Velaris on a short respite from Adriata, meant something was wrong. The look on Feyre’s beautiful face only confirmed that. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re late,” Amren snapped. It was as much a greeting as he’d get from her.

Azriel matched the second’s same cool indifference. “I was in the middle of something when you sent for me. I came as soon as I could.”

“Off again, doing only the Mother knows what? You don’t fool me, boy. I can smell the Continent on you.”

“I come, I go. So is the nature of my work.”

“Is it, now?”

“If you intend to suggest I’m up to something you disapprove of, then by all means, Amren, do so now and let us be done with it. I’m not here to indulge in idle banter.”

The second-in-command bared her teeth, smoke-gray eyes glowing like two torches amidst the gloom, and for half a heartbeat, Azriel thought she might press the matter.

Then Feyre stepped forward and cleared her throat. There were dark smudges of exhaustion beneath the High Lady’s eyes, but she still looked as regal as ever in her Illyrian leathers, her carved ashwood bow and a matching quiver of arrows peeking up over her armored shoulders.

“Enough, you two,” Feyre said, voice laced with nothing but command. She shot both Azriel and Amren a warning look before folding her tattooed hands behind her back, taking up the position of authority fitting of both a war commander and a queen. “We have bigger matters at hand, and I didn’t leave my infant son asleep at home with a nanny just to come here and listen to you bicker.” She nudged Amren with an armored elbow. “So, won't you be a dear and update our lovely Spymaster on the situation at hand?”

Amren shot him one last distrustful look before answering their High Lady's command. "We picked up two...stragglers...trying to make their way to the Prison Isle. From what we've been able to gather, it appears they were attempting to make their way inside the Prison itself."

Azriel's brows rose. Sneak onto the Prison Isle? That was not only impossible, but it was complete and utter madness. A sick, sudden realization shuddered through him, so fierce it cut through the pounding in his head.

Elain.

Elain was trying to get access to the Prison for reasons still unknown to him. Her and the spellspinner she'd tried so diligently to keep hidden in the Library.

Azriel's shadows had brought him word of their machinations weeks ago, initially tipped off by the arrival of the young spellspinner, and catching Elain in his bedroom yesterday had only confirmed his suspicions, but surely she hadn't gone against his warnings. Surely she hadn't...

"Something wrong, boy?" Amren crooned.

He ignored her. "Tell me everything," he said to Feyre.

"One male, one female. Both don't seem to hold any particular court alliance, but they were...dressed strangely. Almost as if they were trying to blend in with the Library's priestesses. Only their robes were gray, not white, and they carried no invoking stones." Feyre scrubbed a hand down her face. "Rhys caught the male on the beaches; I found the female still on the boat they'd used to reach the Isle."

Azriel might have sighed his relief if only Feyre's words weren't too much to stomach. Elain and her friends, and whatever wild plan they'd concocted, might be safe for now, but an unwelcome stranger trying to land on the Prison Isle was nothing to take lightly. And the fact Azriel, nor his shadows, had seen it coming rankled him.

"I tried to talk to her, wanted to know who she was, why she was there," the High Lady continued. "But she pulled a knife before I could get to her. I watched her open her own throat. Tried to heal her, but to no avail, little thanks to the poison on her blade." Feyre shook her head then tossed a thumb towards the cell door. "Rhys is inside with the male. He won't speak, though. He just keeps... singing."

"Singing?" Azriel echoed.

"He means to mock us," Amren murmured.

It was Feyre who ignored the second-in-command now. The High Lady tipped her head towards the cell door. "You'll see." She said. "We'll be waiting at the Riverhouse for your report."

And with that, Feyre reached a hand for Amren and winnowed them both away, leaving Azriel alone with his pounding head, the ancient black stone, and the iron door looming before him.

Azriel drew in a breath. Down, down, down he sank into himself before he strode for the cell door and shoved it open.

The sharp smell of blood and piss and fear arrested his senses as soon as he stepped into the dimly lit cell.

Old memories reared their ugly heads, taking him back to a different time where he came to these very cells to serve a far different lord. Truth-Teller warmed at his side, steadying him. Azriel wrapped a hand around the dagger's familiar hilt and shoved the memories back inside their iron cages to rot.

He made a quick sweep of the room when his eyes finally adjusted. Shadows clung to the corners of the narrow cell, dark enough to conceal his brother's powerful form hidden within them. Rhys was the darkness here. Anyone else might have missed him, but Azriel knew his brother's scent, the sound of his breathing, and marked where he stood in one of the shadowy corners.

In the center of the cell, bound and blindfolded, sat the captive. His gray robes were bloody, his lip split and broken, but he was singing just as Feyre had promised. Singing some horrible old song.

"...blue blood, red blood, blood black as a moonless night," the captive's voice echoed off the cell walls, garbled and made watery by his mouthful of broken teeth. "A pound of flesh, a pound of bone, a gift for a maiden made of light..."

Azriel's shadows swarmed. They flowed across the old stone floors to circle the captive like a pack of hungry dogs, writhing and twisting as they tried to make sense of him and his strange song. Almost as if the song had offended them. As if it scared them.

The darkness melted, and Rhys appeared from within it, arms crossed and brow furrowed, the mask of the High Lord in perfect place. Stars were dancing in his violet eyes, cold and unyielding, burning with a hunger Azriel himself knew all too well.

"He's been at it all night," Rhys said softly. "The same two verses of the same song, over and over again. It's driving me fucking mad."

"You scramble his brains or something?" Azriel asked.

"Would that I could. His mind is impenetrable. Practically walled off with solid obsidian. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's been prepped on how to face a Daemati, then."

"Or spelled to keep one out of his mind."

The words rose a chill within him, and Azriel found himself watching his brother more closely. Rhys worked a tick in his jaw, violet eyes churning as he assessed the battered man babbling his strange song.

"...away, away, at the crown of midnight..."

Azriel had never heard the tune before. Yet, it rankled him somehow. Dragged cold talons through his guts as if it were trying to make a home there.

Pain pricked behind his eyes, blooming like a thousand burning stars.

Azriel rolled his shoulders, fighting the headache, and drew in a deep breath of the rank air, descending deeper into that inside, readying himself for what was to come.

"He'll break," he said softly.

Rhys did not look at him as he replied. "I know."

Eventually, they exchanged the briefest, most fleeting of looks, but the silent words that passed between them meant everything. Rhys's eyes reminded him that Azriel did not have to do this. That he was, in fact, not his father's son. That this Night Court was a court of dreamers, of sons who were forgiven of the sins of their fathers, of daughters free to live as they pleased.

But the weight of duty had been taught to Azriel decades ago. And it was not a lesson so easily forgotten.

Skin slips easier off the smaller bones, blood congeals at the joints, and the mind always, always fractures first.

The old High Lord had taught him those things. Had made sure Azriel knew them, committed them to his memory so he might never forget his purpose. His worth. The thing he'd been made for.

Azriel slid Truth-Teller from its sheath. "Leave us," he said to his brother, voice soft as night. "I'll bring my report to the Riverhouse."

Rhysand put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the gesture made as if it might spare him, as if it might change what he was and the things he was born to do.

It wouldn't.

Azriel had stopped telling himself such follies a long, long time ago.

So he waited until his brother closed the cell door behind him. Waited until his shadows drank the last bit of light from the dank cell. Waited and listened as the prisoner whimpered the last verses of his swan song.

"...a sword for the son, a horn for the Queen, and dagger for their fool..."

Once, when he was just a boy, the shadows had taught him there was a place he could go, somewhere he could hide from his father's wrath, from his brothers' hate. Somewhere deep within himself. A place where he felt nothing, saw nothing.

Was nothing.

Azriel went to that place now, hiding somewhere deep within himself. He thought of roses as he raised Truth-Teller to the pale flesh of the prisoner's chest and began to cut.

Blood bloomed and the ache in Azriel's head erupted like a thunderclap.

And a dagger for the fool.

#the seer's stone #elriel fanfiction #the seer's stone fanfic #elriel

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theghostpinesmusic · 4 months

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youtube

Since my last Goose-related post, the news dropped that Ben is leaving the band. As is apparently to be expected these days, this news was accompanied by all sorts of ugly internet speculation, gross rumors, and attempts by randos on the internet to use the band's interpersonal struggles to grab tiny little bits of attention for themselves.

I don't really intend to write about all that any further, but suffice to say that because of it - and, thankfully, also because of a really fun holiday vacation with family - I haven't listened to any Goose for the last few weeks. Ben's drumming was one of the first things that caught my attention about the band, and I was really bummed to learn he was leaving, but I'm looking forward to whatever the remaining band members do next instead of putting my time and energy into choosing sides in a made-up internet fight. It's likely the band comes out of this playing as strong as (or even stronger than) they were during the fall tour. And, if I'm wrong and the next iteration of Goose no longer clicks with me, I'll...find something else to listen to.

To put that attitude into practice, today I'm going to write probably-a-lot about the Brussels "Animal."

"Animal" is a new-ish Goose song, having debuted at Legend Valley on 6/11/22. It's been a frequent part of setlists since then, being played forty times so far. In my memory, it was a jamming juggernaut from the jump, and continued to be one throughout 2022, but in 2023 it seemed to become a bit less of an exploratory vehicle and more of a straight-up rocker.

Now, as much as I always love the jams, I think "Animal" fits both roles well. It's one of the absolute catchiest songs in the band's repertoire of originals, and most nights I will absolutely welcome an eleven- or twelve-minute version of the song that's basically just a feature for a shredding session from Rick. That said, in the last few months the song has been getting weirder and weirder within its typical structure (Peter including animal sound effects, longer and longer "space" jams introducing the song, heavier use of synths), and before Brussels I was often a little disappointed with shorter versions, wanting to see where 2023's take on "Animal" might go if the band really let it off the leash.

Then they played a twenty-six minute version, and answered my question. It's a truism that length isn't everything when it comes to jamming. Throughout my decades of listening, I've certainly heard many memorable twenty-, thirty-, and even forty-plus-minute jams that were great because the band stayed in that improvisational zone for that long. But of course, I've also heard many thirty-minute jams that could have been much shorter and gotten the same point across. I've heard twenty-minute jams that maybe didn't need to have been a jam at all. And I've heard (especially with Goose and latter-day Phish) ten minute jams that blow most longer improvisations out of the water.

That's all to say that it's not the twenty-six minutes that matters here, it's what they do with it. This is what I think of in my own dorky personal jam cosmology as a "hydra jam" (i.e., you cut off one head and two more take its place): it's a jam with multiple distinct sections that are all separate from the original composed song musically. There are little transitions between these spaces, but mostly the performance as a whole has a string-of-pearls quality, if that makes sense.

This version starts with the now-typical spacey intro, then we drop into the song proper. Almost immediately, things are different than usual here: normally the vocals come in right away, but instead the band vamps on the opening chord progression for a few minutes. It's not until the 4:20 mark that the song starts in earnest. While this jam isn't exactly top-shelf improv in and of itself (it's really just an extension of the usual intro), it's a nice mellow groove and a sign that the band is feeling it, which is never a bad thing.

As I said above, the song proper is catchy as all hell, and I always hear shades of Yes's "Owner Of A Lonely Heart" in the chorus, though maybe that's just me. We start in on the jams at the 8:15 mark, with Peter taking the lead on the piano at first, pulling things in a jazzy direction.

There's a mini-breakdown around 9:00 as the band quiets things down, and we stick with the jazz feel for a bit. We haven't necessarily departed from the structure of the original song yet, here, but one of my ongoing wishes when it comes to Goose jams is for Peter to play more jazz. So I love this part, though it's possible that's just personal bias. For my money, this section is also a great example of Rick's always-improving ability to play song really engaging rhythm guitar as second fiddle to Peter's soloing. There's a smooth hand-off at 11:45 as Rick takes over the soloing duties, and lays down a nice, peak-y bit of playing...

...until 13:20, where he signals a change in the direction of the jam, and shortly after everyone backs off and slows down, the band moving as a whole into a really beautiful almost-but-not-quite ambient space (Ben's drumming provides a really neat, driving counterpoint here to the atmospheric playing everyone is doing).

One of my all-time favorite Goose jams is the version of "Time To Flee" that they performed on 10/2/20 with Dave Grippo guesting on saxophone, and a big reason for that is a gorgeous, extended sequence that sounds like it's riffing off of the outro to "Reuben and Cherise." For what it's worth, this section of the Brussels "Animal" echoes that previous jam for me, in a great way.

Also, watching Rick absolutely feeling the band's groove here while not just straight-up shredding over it is great. It feels like one of those great moments where everyone is perfectly on the same wavelength. The energy rises slowly but surely over a few minutes before peaking around twenty minutes in, and then Rick takes a bit of a left turn at 20:30. The camera is on Ben here, and it's neat to see him quickly switch up the beat in response to the change. Peter hangs on the organ for a few beats, then heads back over to the piano as a new jam space coalesces.

At first, this almost sounds like something from 2021's Ted Tapes, with both Rick and Peter jumping into and out of complementary riffs while the rhythm section dances around them. Rick gets a bit more chord-y around 22:50, and now the jam almost sounds like "Butter Rum" for a moment, before Ben switches up the beat again and now, somehow, we're in a bluegrass-sounding space. Well, that's fun!

When Peter switches over to the organ at 24:40, things really start to gain momentum, and shortly after we sprint to the top of the mountain, so to speak. The lights are great here, too.

Typically, even after extended jams, the band is pretty dedicated to going back and finishing up the song proper; however, in this case that doesn't happen. Rather than segueing back into the "Animal" chord progression, they bring the energy back down one more time and slowly and gently fade out to wrap things up. So that's pretty cool.

I have no idea what 2024 Goose is going to look or sound like, but hopefully they keep having this much fun taking "Animal" deep!

#goose #goose the band #tour journal #music #live music #jams #videos #writing #jam bands #Youtube

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paradisetemporarilymisplaced · 3 years

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So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

#the old guard #tog #tog fanfiction #tog meta #immortal family #nile freeman #mine #damn look at me contributing to a fandom! that’s new #pls reblog if you like this my self esteem could really use it #I just love nile so much and I’m being the nile-centric content I want to see in the world #it is just genuinely nuts to think abt how this situation would be perceived by anyone outside the narrative #she just mysteriously heals from a fatal injury and then VANISHES!!! this should be national fuckin news #also I do think there’s a major hole in the story when you think abt social media #like the only time it’s even hinted at is right at the very beginning when Andy erases that girl’s selfie #and the concept of fuckin Reddit is not even brought up despite Copley’s stalker board being analog Reddit #there’s just a lot of places one could go with this which is very much what we got here #1k

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #double edged scalpel #fanfic #the dimitrescu daughters

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sibsteria · 3 years

Text

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #jack kline #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline smut #jack kline imagines

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lustbile-archive · 3 years

Text

Abandoned Part 2

MarkxReader

Word Count: 7.4k+

Summary/Warnings: You can try to pretend that the monster you met on halloween night didn’t actually exist, and you can definitely pretend that he didn’t do what he did. You can pretend all you want but that doesn’t change anything, and it also doesn’t change the fact that you cant stop thinking about him every night. Monster!Mark

PART 1 HERE

It took you about three full weeks before you could return to the warehouse again. It wasn’t that you weren’t thinking about it, you thought about it every single day in fact. The building itself stood tall right in the center of town, looming over you and everyone else who was blissfully unaware of what lived in its walls, and you were forced to pass it every single day of your life.

So no, its not that you weren’t thinking about it, or him more specifically, but the fear of facing the truth of what had happened that night, what you had done and let him do to you, made you avoid the building like the plague. Just the cringe you got from remembering the unconvincing lie you had to conjure to explain to your friend why you returned with wrinkled clothes stained with black liquid made you wish the building would just disappear.

You’d drop your eyes whenever you had to pass by the building, a queasy and unsure bile stinging your throat, and every time your friend would bring up your little halloween adventure to impress someone irrelevant, you’d brush it off with a comment of, ‘nothing really interesting happened, just an old gross building.’

But your avoidance or denial did nothing to erase him from your mind. He plagued your dreams, lived freely in your thoughts and every minuscule space in your bones. The things your mind subjected you to in your unconscious state, for any other person, would be things of nightmares.

Everything was all sharp teeth, a thick dripping black liquid, and a grinning boy whose tongue was longer than your forearm danced in your fantasies like the building blocks for your own personal fucked up prince charming.

But regardless, the idea of seeing and experiencing him again, and maybe even stealing a few answers in the process, pulled you to the building like a magnet. The whistling air the ran through the rooms, the broken glass, and crumbling walls called to you like a siren, and after three weeks of denying it, you were getting dressed and sneaking out in the middle of the night to go find him.

It was colder than it was on halloween, the biting cold of a dark November night greeting you as you escaped the walls of your home. Every step you took as you walked to your fate was followed by a harsh bite pressed deeply against your bottom lip, and the moment you were faced with the same decrepit door way that you and your friend had snuck into that night, you knew that it was the point of no return.

Trekking through the rubble of the old building was different now that you were alone. Every room devoid of light felt darker, the creaking of wood louder, and it felt like every step you took was seen by millions of invisible eyes. The only thing that stopped you from letting out a yelp in surprise when a couple of large rats ran directly in front of you, was the fear that something other than the creature you were searching for would hear and find you before he could.

It took you about half an hour to find the room again, but your lack of company and the fact that you kept your arms wound tightly around yourself stopping you from reaching for your phone made it feel like an eternity. You silently scold yourself for not remembering better, or leaving some form of marker to remind you where to go, but as you finally stand in front of the glass filled room, the only feelings that truly remain in your chest is the dread of unknowing and a silent wish that your search had taken just a little longer.

The door to the room lets out a jarring scream that echoes down the halls and makes you flinch as you push it open. The heavy metal has become uneven with age and scraps along the floor loudly, and you find yourself conflicted in hoping that the sounds you cause tipped the creature off to your presence and praying that he didn’t hear it at all.

You cringe as your breath and heartbeat are the only noises that drum against your ears after the door slams shuts behind you. And as you stand frozen in the hallow room, a small part of you is disappointed that he’d isn’t standing there waiting like your knight in shining armor.

The glass still glitters just as beautifully as it had so many nights before, and you almost curse it for being the thing that got you into your position in the first place.

But as you stand scowling at the inanimate pieces, it’s at this moment you realize you have no idea how to get him to know you’re there, as well as realizing that you’re not sure if you want him to know as it would mean you’d have to face something that you hadn’t even fully decided was real.

Your mind was still struggling to wrap itself around the events that had happened in the room that you stand in, and even with proof that the room at least exists, you can feel your mind trying to convince you that you had completely fabricated the creature. Something about the air that whips around you makes you feel like your losing your sense of reality, and with a last push of courage you decide there’s only one way to learn whether or not your mind is turning against you.

With a timid tone and a slight crack to your voice, you whisper out a quiet ‘hello’ as you finally move further into the room, your shaky voice bouncing off the cement walls almost as if to mock you.

When you’re met with nothing but deafening silence, you try once again only slightly louder.

You finally untangle yourself from your own arms, the heat you had accumulated almost immediately spilling from the sleeves of your sweater as you move to pull your phone from the band of your skirt and bush the button that will illuminate the room with its flashlight.

You let out a few more calls, the tension slipping from your shoulders each time before you find yourself pushing around the glass with your shoe as if you were kicking rocks. You almost cover the entire surface area of the desolate room and start to even slip into boredom before you have to face the fact that you are most definitely avoiding any space within three feet of the pitch black doorway of the closet that the creature had emerged from the first time you saw him.

With a deep breath that rattles your chest, you move closer to what feels like the visual representation of your personal demise. Glass loudly crunches under your shoes as you get closer and closer to the doorway and it feels like your heart has made residence in your throat.

You feel like your getting closer to a forbidden world as you now stand less than a foot away from the space who’s only hint of life had been the boy you had seen weeks ago, your flashlight close enough now to illuminate it a bit, but the only thing the article light exposes is a blank wall that mocks you.

The voice that resides in the back of your mind screams at you to turn around and leave, but your body moves with a mind of its own as you take your first step into the closet.

Without thinking, you lean forward, your hand pressing gently against the cinder wall that acts as the back of the small closet. You’ve convinced yourself that maybe it’s a false wall, that it will collapse and reveal the boy that’s lived in your dreams for so many nights. You feel slightly silly letting your mind wander to something that’s only been done in mystery novels, but considering you’re looking for a boy with a shark teeth and a demon’s tongue nothing seems imposible now.

With a harder shove and a deep huff from your chest, you start to cave into yourself for being foolish enough to let yourself believe in a secret passageway. You’re ready to tuck your tail between your legs and run out of the building in shame, when you feel something softly brush your shoulder.

Just the same as last time you jump, your phone slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor. A muffled crackling noise telling you that the crack that ran from one corner to the dead center of your screen had just been made bigger and even possibly had gained a few acquaintances. The sound of the loud yelp that leaves you being the only sound to join it other than the quiet gasp that comes from beside you.

He’s close enough that you can make out his features regardless of the dark, his mouth hanging in a soft o shape and his eyebrows lifted towards his hairline in shock from your reaction. You both stand there for a moment, a heavy silence between you showing that he was just as shaken by your presence as you were with his. And as realization and reality begin to bleed back into both of your brains, you feel your muscles relax as you lean back against the wall and the black liquid starts to drip out of his mouth again in excitement.

His eyes dance with happiness at seeing you again, the sight endearing enough that you’re weirdly unaffected by the liquid that begins to splash on the floor between his feet. With the images that had filled your mind for the past weeks, you find yourself pleasantly surprised by how cute he is, also slightly disappointed in yourself for letting yourself forget.

“Hi,” you speak first, your voice airy with relief. He’s not even half as scary as you had convinced yourself, and you could feel your heart start to beat rapidly at the sight of his excited grin, sharp teeth and all.

“I didn’t think you’d come back!” he speaks louder than you expected, his giddiness making you smile but his words slightly breaking your heart.

You only get a moment to sulk over the idea of him thinking he’d never see you again, before he’s all but jumping on you and latching his dripping mouth to your neck.

You freeze for a moment, the shock of his eagerness and the tingle that runs up your spine at the scrape of his teeth making you mind skip a beat. You almost allow him to continue on, greedily accepting the feeling of his warm tongue lapping at your skin, but your consciousness returns to you quickly enough that you can will yourself to lift your arms and gently push him away.

There’s a wet pop as he reluctantly pulls away, his mouth leaving a trail of liquid behind to drip down your skin. You’re ashamed of yourself for the way your heart clenches at his look of confusion and disappointment, but you tell yourself you can’t let anything happen again without talking to him and getting answers.

“You don’t have to do that,” you whisper gently, your hands sliding up to hold the sides of his face.

You’re both slightly panting already, your breath puffing from the feeling of his mouth, but his seems to come from his confusion and worry.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes, his eyes widening as his words spill out, “you seemed to enjoy it last time so I thought… you did like it last time didn’t you?”

You smile softly at his concern, “I did,” your head bobbing slightly to reassure him, “I did a lot. I just- we can talk first. Like what’s your name?’’

His eyebrows thread together, his head tilting to the side reminding you of a confused puppy, “name?”

Just the one word asked with a questioning tone threw you off, and it takes you a moment to collect your thoughts enough to understand you’ll have to explain what a name is.

“You know…” your hands move away from his face as they flail slightly as you think, his own hands compensating for the lack of physical contact by landing on the bend of your back, “like is there something specific that people call only you. Y’know to get your attention and stuff.”

“Oh!” he says, excited to understand slightly better, “well…. my friends call me Mark!”

“Mark…” you test out the weirdly normal name on your tongue, a small spike of shame running through you at the fact that you assumed it would be anything different, “cool…”

You offer your own name, the way his eyes light up at the syllables making your chest swell. There’s a beat of silence after he takes his turn in repeating your name, and you can feel yourself melting into the moment.

“I wanted to talk to you more,” he speaks up again, his fingers flexing against your back as his tongue dips out to wet his lips, “but I had to run off, and you took longer to come back then I thought so like…. but we can talk now!”

Your chest feels hallow when he mentions the time it took you to return, and you start to stutter to defend yourself, “well I.. what happened I had… I had never had someone do what you did so quickly after meeting so like, I’ll admit I was a little freaked out by the whole thing.”

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he steps closer, his body heat crowding you and blocking you from the cold air, “you just smelled and tasted so good… I wished you had said something.”

“No no no,” you rush to correct him, the idea of him thinking any different from how you actually felt stressing you out, “maybe freaked out was the wrong word. Um, it did throw me off a little, but I liked it. I feel like you could probably tell how much I liked it.”

“Yeah..” you both huff out a breath of air after the word lingers around you, “towards the end though you… what was that?”

“The end? I mean um, I came if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Came?”

“Oh you know, an orgasm?”

“Orgasm?”

You huff, your mind reeling at the idea of having to explain another word that came so naturally to you. You shake your head softly in disbelief, before taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, you know,” you start trying to string the right words together to describe such a thing, “you know when you did what you did. And you know what happened at the end. It felt good the whole time, but at the end it felt really really good. I’m sorry I’ve never explained this before.”

He laughs at your exasperated expression, before leaning his forehead against yours, “that sounds weird,” his bluntness makes you choke a bit on your breath before he continues, “can I do that?”

“Do it…?” you feel like your brain is working a million miles a minute as you stand with him in the pitch black, “I mean yeah, probably.”

“Probably?” his laugh almost taunts you, and you start to believe that he may be messing with you slightly, “do you think we could try?”

“You mean you want me to,” you gesture to his crotch, your eyes darting between his eyes and the space between his thighs, “like we have sex.”

“Okay,” he reasons, his head shaking as he pulls you even closer, “I’m clearly not getting this, but if sex will make an orgasm happen then yeah, I want to have sex.”

“Right,” you say, your face warming in embarrassment as you start to remember that whatever the boy that’s in front of you is, the last thing he is is a child. He knew enough to do what he did to you the first time, there’s no real reason for you to be beating around the bush like you are, “cool.”

“Cool.”

Any anxiety that still lingers in your chest, you swallow down, your hands lifting to return to the sides of his face in the process. With a soft sigh, you tilt your chin up, your forehead brushing against his as you move to press your mouth against his.

If it wasn’t for the first time you met him, you probably would have never dared to put your mouth against the mouth of a boy who drools a thick black slime. But with his slightly chapped lips brushing eagerly against yours, and the fact that the liquid slips into your mouth warm and smooth pushes any questions you may have out of your mind.

His lips are sloppy, his lips covering yours as he tries to follow your movements. He seems to be very aware of how sharp his teeth are, as they scrape gently across your bottom lip just enough that they won't break the skin. Your eyes slide shut and a soft moan rolls from your chest as he presses you flush against the wall.

It’s not hard to dip your tongue experimentally into his mouth as if hangs open in awe of the situation. You greedily lick across the roof of his mouth, reveling in the way it makes him shiver against you, and it's only a moment before you realise how much you're enjoying the taste of the liquid that spills from his mouth into yours.

It’s a soft sweetness, a dull taste that only hits you when you’ve had enough of it spill onto your tongue that it's dripping from the corners of your lips. The after taste of cotton candy after a long day at the fair, the smell of fresh strawberries so strong that you can taste it like a memory on the back of your tongue, licking your thumb to get rid of a smudge on your friend’s cheek only to taste the remains of the piece of candy she gave you hours ago. And as he pushes himself in the space between your legs in the cramped space, you can feel yourself fall into an addiction with the way he tastes.

He follows in your steps, his own tongue hesitantly dipping itself into your mouth along with the sticky substance, and when you feel the sharp tapered end of his tongue lick at the back of your teeth, you waste no time in sucking harshly on the muscle and pulling it deeper in your mouth.

The way the liquid coats your tongue makes you feel like you're swimming in syrup. Your body relaxed and lax to the extent that even when you feel his long tongue prod at the back of yours, your gag reflex is non existent, and you start to question if it just tastes good, or if it's truly making you lose yourself against his lips.

When he moves slowly away from your mouth to travel across your cheek, is when you finally get a moment to think. His tongue drags out of your mouth at a snail’s pace, the tip curling and tugging at the corner of your lips making you let out the first sound that’s not muffled by the space of his mouth, and you feel him grin against your jaw.

“Mark,” you try his name out once again as your hands move against him. One hand curls around the back of his head to thread your fingers through his wild hair, as you use your other to push the moment along.

You drag your nails slowly down his arm, your lip tucking between your teeth with a grin when he shudders again. When your hand finally reaches behind you, you wrap your fingers around his wrist. It doesn’t take much strength to tug his hand away from you back, and even less effort is needed when you guide his twitching fingers to slip under your sweater to press against your chest through the thin bra you wear underneath.

After flexing your own hand over his a few times, he picks up immediately. His own fingers kneading softly at the flesh, as your hand falls to leave him to his own devices and reach underneath your skirt.

It only takes a few tugs at the fabric of your underwear for them to pool around your ankles, and with a few steps and a small kick, the fabric is forgotten on the dirty floor a few feet away.

His tongue is back to showing its full potential, the thick muscle curling around your neck as he mouths at the skin below your jaw, and your traveling hand now dips into the band of his pants to tug him closer to you, your hips softly canting against his.

“Mark, please,” you quietly plead. He hums curiously as his body curls tighter against yours and you’re reminded that it’s better to be blunt with the boy against you, “can I take this off?”

“Yes,” he mutters against your neck, treating the sensitive skin protecting your jugular as if it’s his source of life and refusing to move away, “please.”

You tilt your head the best to your ability with the way his tucked against you, your own teeth desperately biting like a rabid animal to get as many bites at his soft skin as you can, your hand moving to push the fabric of his bottoms down his hips until you can feel his length release from the restraints.

You waste no time to wrap your hand around the base of him, and as you move your palm and fingers to drag up the length of him, you can’t help the quiet gasp you let out.

He’s bigger than you’d imagine he’d be with how slight his frame is, and even as you remind yourself that your sense of touch is probably tricking you a bit into thinking it's larger than reality, you know it’s not tricking you with the fact that something is slightly different.

It’s not abnormal in any sense, which isn’t surprising since, aside from the tongue and teeth, Mark just looks like a normal human guy, but some nagging in your mind tells you there’s something that’s unique.

You chance a glance down, rolling your eyes at yourself for letting your curiosity override your full knowledge that it’s probably too dark to see anything, but to you’re very pleasant surprise, you see that regardless of the busted screen, the flashlight of your phone still shines brightly enough to light up the space around your feet.

There’s still shadows dancing across you as you slowly begin to stroke him as he’s pressed against your hip, but you take what you can get in the moment.

Your hand had tricked you a bit, he wasn’t as large as your fingers had told you, but he’s still larger than expected. Though, your eyebrow raises slightly at the rest of the visual information you see. The swollen tip leaks a similar black as his lips, and you silently wish you were more shocked by the fact. And truthfully the small dusting of a royal blue color that covers the tip of him doesn’t fully surprise you either, but you admit the two bulbs that you can only describe as knot-like that rest above his base does give you a weird combination of confusions and excitement in your chest.

You shake your head, silently deciding you had come too far to act surprised now, so instead you brush your thumb against the liquid that now spills from his tip, and start to guide him closer by wrapping one leg around his hip.

His hand that’s not busied by groping at your chest jumps immediately to wrap around your lifted knee, his body pressing tighter against yours and a groan rattling against your neck in response.

You hesitate before you go any further, everything feeling suddenly too fast, and in an attempt to drag it out just a little longer, you let go of him. Regardless of the way it makes you feel, you ignore the quiet sound of disappointment he lets out against your skin, and instead run your hand up your body and across both yours and his neck to collect as much of the liquid on your fingers as possible.

It’s only when you feel like you’ve dipped your hand in thinned honey, do you return to the space between you where both of your bodies are begging for attention. You coat his skin in his own mess, the quiet noises he makes filling your ear again.

You pull him closer with your leg, finally allowing yourself some relief as you begin to drag his head against your dampened skin, the warm tip bumping against your clit in a way that makes your hips twitch.

The liquid worked as well as you had hoped as you slowly guide him to press into you, his slicked skin making the intrusion perfect and smooth. It doesn’t take any time at all before he’s seated fully inside you, and the way he stretches you out makes your head tilt back until it knocks against the cinder of the wall and your fingers harshly tug at the strands of hair caught between them.

You hold him against you for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being completely full and the small hums in content he lets out along your own. You feel your body flutter around him as you try to adjust to the foreign feeling of him, the widened bulbs around his base stretching your farther than you had ever imagined. His body reacts to you clenching with stuttering hips that aid in the air being knocked from your lungs and his monstrous tongue flexes around your throat tighter, slowing the blood flow to your head and making you feel like you’re floating in the dark space.

“You feel so good,” he speaks truthfully, his voice muffled and strained as he speaks around his extended tongue, his sharp teeth scraping against your skin as he slurs.

“Okay,” you find your voice finally as you start to calm down. One hand falls from his hair, trailing slowly down his body making him shiver against you, and finally gripping at his hip, “you can move.”

With your words, you push him slightly away from you. Your body clenches in protest at losing even the few inches of him that slips from him, the space that he slips from already becoming greedy for the heavy weight of him inside you.

He must agree with your hungry body, as even though he stays pressed against you everywhere else, he lets out a small whine at the feeling of you pushing him away.

The sounds of protest quickly die when you slip your hand under his shirt to press into the small of his back. Your nails dig slightly into his soft skin as you pull him to fuck into you again, every inch of him dragging against the nerves inside you perfectly making your teeth clench. He in return lets out a pleased purr that makes a goofy grin stretch across your lips.

“Just like that,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, before you let your own tongue slip out to lick at the sensitive skin. His hips stutter again as he chokes slightly, but thankfully the action doesn’t affect him enough to distract him from being a quick learner.

He pulls out about the same amount you had shown him, the widest parts of him tugging at your opening slightly from how snugly you’re wrapped around him, something about him moving on his own this time making your eyes flutter and roll.

Though he retreated gently, his excitement seems to take over his senses, as when he thrusts back into you, it's rough. Any air you had collected since he first filled you escapes again, a surprised yelp joining it.

Once he gets a taste of controlling the motions, it's as if something snaps inside of him. As if he’s become slightly wild, he starts to move faster and faster with each thrust. His hips are sloppy and erratic, his drool almost doubling in volume as its pools and drips around your neck, and for a moment you silently ask yourself what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Your hand remains on his back, your nails now digging harshly into the skin of his back in a desperate attempt to have something solid to cling on to. Your head knocks into the wall behind you with his thrusts, but the feeling of him drilling into you as your combined fluids drip around him turns your brain to mush and any pain is drowned out by the pleasure that bites at your stomach.

Broken syllables and slurs of his name and pleads slip through your teeth as you start to lose yourself to his rapid movements, and you're only vaguely aware of the way your own hips start to rock against him.

The way his body twists and presses against you makes it almost impossible to hold on to him, this and the small voice inside your head that tells you that this probably won’t be lasting as long as you may hope makes your hand move up and away. Instead of holding onto his back, you desperately grope to find the hand that still presses against your chest.

Slipping your fingers under your shirt along with his, you tug his stubborn hand away from your chest. His fingers are stiff with confusion as you pull his hand down your body until it’s tucked between your legs, but when you press the tips of them against your dampened skin he relaxes.

“Here,” you whisper again, your voice almost too timid to raise in the crowded space. Your fingers begin to move in slow circles guiding his to do the same as they press softly against your neglected clit, “touch me here please.”

After the words leave you, you remove your hand to rejoin the other that’s still tucked into his messy hair. Mark shows to be a quick and eager learner, as his digits swipe against your buzzing nerves perfectly, the feeling pushing you closer and closer to your finish.

You fist his soft hair between your fingers, making both of your feet shuffle around the floor as his hips pulse quicker from the pain. You guide him again, his tongue dragging against the center of your throat and making you groan as you lead his mouth back to yours.

“Somethings happening,” he mutters before your mouth pushes against his, your lips greedily sucking at his warm tongue as you finally admit you’ve become obsessed with the taste of him, “feels so good.”

“Don’t stop,” both of your words are muffled and slurred as you refuse to move too far from the others tongues. You know he’s close, and the way he focuses on rolling smooth circles against you, you know you are too, “want you so bad Mark.”

The sound of his name sputtering out of your messy lips is his trigger, the sound of it hitting him in the chest and his lower belly, and soon he’s feeling washes of pleasure all over his form.

Regardless of the noises that slip from him and the way his hips become even sloppier than what they were before, his determined fingers never let up. This and the feeling of him coming deep inside you, a feeling that feels almost unending as he fills you with an inhuman amount of his come, has you reeling.

As if it was even possible, you cling to him even more. A tight knot snapping in your belly as you clench and shiver around him. Every moan and whine you let out matching his perfectly as they swirl together in the minuscule space between your mouths.

He doesn’t stop moving as he carries you through your finish, wet noises surrounding you as the evidence of his orgasm starts to push and drip out of your from the speed of his thrusts. The muscles in your back begin to go lax as you let him get in his last pushes as you anticipate him stopping soon, but after a moment you realize he’s not slowing down or even going soft inside you.

“Mark?” your head tilts as you break the sloppy kiss you share, but any other words that could follow up die on your tongue as his fingers continue to move and make sparks of almost painful pleasure shock your body

“Feels so good,” he repeats, his head falling until his forehead rests on your shoulder, and with a strained and shaky moan you realize he has no intention of stopping, “wanna make you feel good.”

“You did Mark, you-“ your words are cut off again by an overwhelmed moan leaving you at the feeling of him nudging against a spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your jaw drop.

“I could do this forever,” he promises, and for your sanity, you pray he’s exaggerating.

It feels as if your own body betrays you when you feel even more of your own arousal gush around him, or maybe you are losing your sanity and it’s only more of his come being forcibly pushed from your body by his hips. Either way, you feel a terrible promise of another overwhelming orgasm creeping down your spine.

His hand abandones it’s hold on your leg, as he wraps it around your waist again. His arm holds a surprising amount of strength as it squeezes relentlessly around you, and as he pulls you against him enough that your lower body is pulled away from the wall, the way he pushes into can only be described as animalistic.

Any hope of keeping quiet flies out the broken windows as the way he pulls you apart with his fingers and thrusts has inhuman sounds ripping their way out of your throat. Your nails claw harshly into his scalp, and your entire body thrashes in his hold, and for a moment you start to think he’s turning you into a monster just like himself.

The second orgasm is almost painful in the way it makes you fall apart. Your eyes ache from how far they roll back into your skull, and your back arches at the exact spot his arm is wrapped around you. You fear that the muscles in your abdomen may cramp from how rapidly they flex, and the arches of your feet join in from the way your toes curl.

Mark revels in the way you let go, he’s enthralled by the way you feel and look against him as you lose every ounce of your shame and guard. He’s sure however you’re feeling is different than the way he feels with his finish, and he loves nothing more than the idea that it’s him making such a beautiful creature fall apart by just fucking in to you.

The now familiar tightened feeling returns to his gut as he watches you. His hips pick up again as he chases the finish. He’s unsure what leaves his body when the pleasure overcomes him, but he’s for certain that he loves the feeling of it filling you completely to the brim and he wants nothing more than to witness it again.

He doesn’t mean to bite you as hard as he does when he starts to orgasm again. It’s as if his mind blanks completely and his mouth is moving towards your shoulder before he can stop it. He feels his dagger like teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder, and for a moment he panics. But the way it feels to empty himself in you, and the pleasured scream that you let out from somewhere deep in your belly makes him clamp down harder.

You breath out the remaining air left in your lungs in relief when you feel his hips stuttering to a stop, his own breath panting hot and damp against your shoulder as he slowly pulls his teeth from the shallow wounds he’s made in your flesh.

You cling to him, your hands slipping out of his hair to let your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug, and his tongue makes a final appearance to lave over your shoulder to collect the beads of blood that form.

He pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting harder than you had thought it would and making one last shiver wrack your body. It almost feels like you’ve had a pile of bricks lifted off you as you become aware of the weakness of your limbs, but Mark seems more than willing to support your weight as you lean against him, both of your breathing calming to a normal pace as his come starts to slowly trickle down the insides of your thighs.

“No words could have described that feeling,” he speaks, breaking the small lull of silence that had fallen over you, and you can’t help the endeared laugh you let out in response.

“Yeah it's pretty cool,” you retort awkwardly, not completely sure of how to respond.

You reluctantly let go of his shoulders, your hands falling to your sides as you lean back into the wall. The weird energy that surrounded you when you first saw him returns, and you’re unsure how to interact with him again, but regardless he either doesn’t seem to mind or doesn’t notice at all.

He makes no effort to hide his distaste for the sudden distance, and after he moves his hands away to tuck himself back into his pants, they move in search for some kind of contact again. He reaches down to take a hold of your hands and pulls them up until they sit wrapped in his, on his shoulders.

“I think you’re cool,” he puts bluntly, and his sparkling eyes as he speaks makes your heart thud against your chest, “what just happened was really cool, so please don’t take so long coming back next time because I want to talk to you more and do more of that okay?”

His rushed words make you breath out a laugh as your head bobs in agreement, “I promise, I’ll come back sooner.”

“And you can come in the daylight if you’re not busy,” he assures, his head nodding in determination, “I know this place can be freaky at night and I don’t want to think you’re uncomfortable when you’re with me.”

It’s so easy to slip into the idea that you’re just talking to some simple sweet boy when his wide eyes dance across your face, but the tapered end of his tongue slipping out to lick at his lips is all you need to remind you that he isn’t at all.

“I‘ll try, but even at night, I’m not uncomfortable with you Mark,” you speak truthfully, the fact even surprising you a bit, “but… can I ask you something?’’

“Anything. Anything at all,” he nods quickly, and you silently question why you were ever apprehensive of the boy who stands in front of you, no matter what he is.

“You… you’re not like me,” you say making his eyebrows knit together in thought. You almost want to kick yourself at his reaction, because obviously he’s not like you. You quickly stutter to explain yourself, “I mean like not human right? So if it’s not too much… what are you?”

You shrink slightly in apprehension as his face falls blank in thought. The gears in his head turn as he turns your question over in his mind, before a soft, shy smile pulls a little too wide across his face.

“I’m me,” he shrugs, “I mean I know I’m different from you. You’re the first person i’ve been this close to, but i’ve seen people before. Like there’s these men that come every once in a while to look at the building and write stuff on papers and some kids that run through, so I know enough to know that we aren’t the same. But my friends always kind of blow me off when I ask about it. They say that what humans are to us is what a dog is to a wolf, but I don’t really know what they’re trying to get at if I’m being honest.”

The analogy he offers rolls through your mind, but for your own sanity, you put the implications of it to the side and decide maybe it’s better if you don’t know.

“Hmm, yeah I don’t really understand what that means either but,” you sigh deeply, your hands flexing to squeeze at his fingers, “I guess it doesn’t matter too much. I was just curious, as long as you’re here that’s all that matters.”

Even in the dark, you see a warm blush flood his face at your words, and a boyish giggle slips from his lips. He shakes his head again before letting your joined hands fall to the side.

“As long as you’re here too,” there’s a heavy silence that falls between you, but unlike earlier it's softer, not awkward and cold.

“It’s late though,” he says with an air of disappointment around him, “I might not be human, but I’m also not nocturnal so I do have to go unfortunately.”

“Oh,” you speak softly, your own disappointment joining the air around you, “I know I should have come earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No no no, don’t be,” he leans his forehead against yours as he reassures you, the action being more intimate than you had anticipated and makes a cheesy smile tug on your lips, “just come earlier next time. We can talk and do what we just did as long as we want.”

“Or as long as I can handle it,” you huff, making him grin, “that’s another very inhuman thing about you Mark, I’ve never met someone with stamina like that in my life.”

“Is that a good thing…?” he asks with a ting of concern in his tone.

“Oh yeah definitely,” you nod, your lip tucking between your teeth momentarily before you continue, “definitely a good thing. It was a little overwhelming, but it felt amazing.”

“That’s so cool,” the word comes out one last time as his eyes sparkle in pride, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me too,” you speak one last time before he moves away.

As he retreats to the pitch black that is the hall of the false closet in front of you, you become very aware of the fact that you’re alone again. The cold air takes its claim back on your skin, and the sticky liquid that dries against your thighs makes you shiver.

A sudden need to be out of the building rushes over you. Regardless of how sweet Mark turned out to be, the building itself feels hollow and mean when he’s not distracting you from it.

You're relieved when you see your phone still holds enough charge that the light still shines, at least making it easier to find. You bend quickly to grab it, a slight shiver running up your spine when you catch the state your lower half is in, the black liquid from his mouth mixing with the evidence of his orgasms that still drips from you that is the exact same black void color. Your fingers scrape against the floor as you grab for your phone and you silently hope you can find a way to clean up before you get home.

A gasp flies from you when you turn your phone over in your hand. The cracking noise proved true in that the screen is more destroyed than when you arrived, but as a cherry on top of the most confusing sundae, you find that on the way to the floor, somehow your phone’s camera had turned on. And from the blinking time stamp on the top of the screen, you see that it had recorded your entire encounter with Mark.

You quickly stop the filming, your thumb pressing harder against the screen than normal and it feels like your heart is lodged in your throat. You can’t even fathom the idea of having video evidence of what you had done together, and what Mark was capable of, but there’s a small devious voice in the back of your mind that taunts you. With a smug arrogance it whispers, ‘at least you can’t convince yourself nothing happened this time.’

#nct smut #mark smut #nct imagine #mark imagine #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Speak Easy Part 10

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 7142

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

*********************************************************************

“Hold her down! Fuck! How is she still this strong? How much did you give her?”

Your vision was black, and you couldn’t tell if that was because you were blindfolded or just too drugged up to open your eyes. You could hear shuffling as two? No three people moved around you. One was pinning your arms down while another played with the collar that was digging into your neck.

“Listen man, I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here. If they find out we played with their new toy they’ll be pissed!”

There was a new set of hands gently pushing your flimsy medical gown up, “You heard what they were saying right? They said she’s the best sex a man will ever have in their life. It’s like her quirk or something.” You wanted to cry out, but your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. Were you even able to speak? Were you gagged? You couldn’t even tell. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” The hand firmly pressed into your hip. “Now hold her down, and make sure she stays quiet.”

You woke with a rush. Your breath beyond labored as you tried to run from the memories that refused to stay hidden for long. A new set of hands circled around your waist. These hands were different though. These hands were rough and callused. These hands were patient. These hands were reassuring.

“You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head before turning into him and burying your face into his chest. “Just another bad memory.”

His fingers trailed through your hair as he repeatedly kissed the top of your head. “Sometimes I wish I could just hop into your head, like you did mine the other night. Then I could see their faces. And I never forget a face…”

You heard the unsaid threat in his words. He wanted to know your demons so he could hunt them down. He was like Bakugo in that way. They both needed to do something…anything to make them feel like they were helping. The only difference is at the end of the day Bakugo’s victims end up in prison and Dabi’s end up six feet under.

The pounding in your head only seemed to increase. The drums of regret beating behind your eyeballs. “God.. why did we drink so much yesterday?” You groaned and curled further into Dabi’s side.

His fingers rubbed at your temples. “I seem to remember it being your idea. And who am I to deny the drinking queen.”

You groaned as you remembered your antics. “I know you’re not exactly known for being a good influence… but you could have tried a little harder to at least get me to drink some water.”

Dabi vibrated with soft chuckles. “Consider your hangover penance for making me play that ridiculous game. Now get off of me and go take a shower. You smell like a bar.”

With a pouting look you sighed, “But I’m still sad.”

Dabi gave your ass a hard slap. “There is no rule that says you can’t be sad and in the shower. Get your ass in there and clean yourself up. You’ll feel better after your clean and fed. I promise.”

With a chorus of dramatic groans and muffled curses you pulled yourself off of him and slowly made your way to his bathroom. You stopped right before you crossed the threshold and turned to give him your poutiest look, “Are you really going to make me do it alone.”

A pillow flew through the air faster than you thought possible and hit you in the face. “You are more than capable of cleaning yourself. I have other things I need to take care of.”

You stuck your bottom lip out, “Just because I can doesn’t mean that I want to.”

Like a man possessed, Dabi slowly got out of bed. He moved so slow, as if he was a predator stalking his prey. You instinctively held your breath in anticipation as he inched closer and closer. His eyes like a dim fire, but focused on you all the same. He invaded your personal space, slamming his hand on the door behind you beside your head. He leaned down until his nose brushed yours and his lips hovered over yours.

You closed your eyes as he leaned closer but right before your lips connected, “I don’t remember asking what you wanted. You need to take a shower, and I need to handle some business. If you’re still this desperate later then I’ll be more than happy to fuck you.” He gripped your chin and bumped your nose with his. “It’s not that I don’t want to. But I don’t want you to fall into a habit of letting me have my way with you every time you have a bad memory. It’s not fair to either of us.” You felt a single tear streak down your cheek as you nodded. “If it’s just a distraction fine, but you need to learn how to confront and deal with this shit on your own. It’ll just be harder later if you don’t. Believe me.”

A few beats of silence passed before he reluctantly backed away from you. His fingers lingering before letting go of you completely. It wasn’t until he was exiting his room you had the nerve to speak up. “You’re not just a distraction.”

There was no telling if he actually heard you or not. If he did, he didn’t react or respond. Your admission caught you surprise, and you almost hoped he hadn’t. You thought about this weird new attachment you were feeling to Dabi lately while you took your shower. You wouldn’t go as far as to call this foreign new feeling love or anything crazy like that. But you were growing quite fond of his presence. You felt comfort in his warmth, and you appreciated the way his hands always knew just wear to touch to ease your anxiety. Sure, he was a certified asshole, but at least he kept you strong. He made sure you took care of yourself. He didn’t take your shit or your excuses. He got you walking, talking, and opening up within weeks.

You went through your routine slowly, taking your time under the hot water. You’d rather not think about the memory that surfaced last night. But Dabi was right. You needed to take time to work things out yourself. His comfort was more of a band aid, a temporary fix. You needed to at least try to heal on your own.

You had no idea when it happened. It seemed like it was pretty early in your captivity. Back when you still had a little fight in you. You didn’t actually remember what happened after that but you can only assume the worst. Your skin crawled at the thought. You hugged yourself as you let the water hit your back. You closed your eyes as you let your heart beat slowly even out. You refused to let this define you. You were more than your trauma. You thought about Dabi again. He had his own scars. Both literally and figuratively. He had to look in the mirror every day and see the evidence of his trauma every day. If he could do that then you could do this.

One look into the mirror showed that your hair was absurdly long. You would need to cut it soon. But for now, you could just braid it. You giggled as you finished, it was like you had a secret weapon. It gave you a childish idea.

Skipping out of the room you made your way to the kitchen where Dabi was currently on the phone. If hero training taught you anything, it was stealth.

Silent as a mouse you tiptoed up to his turned back.

“We’ll be fine. You’re more than welcome to come if you’re that worried, but I promise it’s not a big deal.” You paused right before you pounced on him, curiosity getting the best of you. “I’ll send you the location, as well as updates. Will that make you feel better?” You could hear a rough voice on the other end and you instinctively knew it was Katsuki. “She’s fine, calm down already. She’s behind me right now thinking she’s sneaky would you like to talk to her?” You leapt at him swinging your braid like a whip and hitting him in the chest.

You froze as Dabi’s gaze flipped to you in seconds. “You want to talk to him?”

You silently nodded as you excepted the phone from him. “Hi…”

A relieved sigh, “I was worried you’d still be mad at me.”

You suddenly wished he was physically here so you could reassure him. “It was silly for me to react that way. It’s obviously not your fault. It… it just sucks.”

“I know…”

So many words hovered on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t make yourself say them. “I feel like we need to talk, but I don’t want it to be over the phone.”

Katsuki gave a nervous chuckle, “Well I guess you’re in luck.” The doorbell rang out and you almost dropped Dabi’s phone.

Dabi took his phone back from you before stomping off to open the front door. “I really didn’t think you’d take me seriously when I said you could come.”

Without breaking eye contact with you Katsuki entered the house, “Well you did offer, and I did come. So, quite bitching and deal with it.” He noticed your nervous posture and he softened, which was something you didn’t think he was capable of. “You want to hash it out here, or would you like to talk privately?”

You nodded your head towards the back door, “It’s a nice day. We can sit on the patio.”

Dabi was secretly grateful. You would get the chance to have an honest conversation with Bakugo while also staying where he could see you.

Katsuki followed you out to the garden. He notices how you refused to look at the pool but he didn’t comment on it. “So… are we gonna talk about it?”

You collapsed into your chair and sighed. “I think we need to.” You looked up and your eyes locked with his vermillion ones. “Look, I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I just… It’s just not fair.” You huffed as you averted your eyes. “That sounds so fucking childish but it’s how I feel. You, Izuku, Shoto, you all got to achieve your dreams. You’re heroes. But the people who did this, who are still doing this to me… they’re technically heroes too.”

His hands squeezed yours, but he made no attempt to cut off your little rant. “They would never do this to you. No one would even believe them if they tried. The public love you guys and you’re damn good at your jobs… and yet there’s nothing you can do to help me…” You could feel his gaze on you and your cheeks reddened. “I just feel helpless and stupid. Stupid for believing so much in the system. Stupid for falling for all their little tricks. Stupid for not seeing the bigger picture. And at the end of the day I can’t even fight it because I did those things… well not all of it, but a good majority. All I can do is lay low and pray no one ever finds me. I’m fucking helpless.”

He grunted and his grip on your hand tightened. “It kills me. You say I’m a hero and I can’t even save you.” You finally looked at him again and all you saw in his eyes now was raw anger. “I’ve never been so confused… so helpless in my life. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know who’s on what side. Was my whole life a lie? Do real heroes even truly exist? Or are we all just pawns in some fucking bigger game?” His voice began to break under his emotion. “I love you y/n. I’m in love with you. I have been for a very long time. Maybe even since we were kids. And I can’t sleep at night because out of everyone in the world you were the one I couldn’t save. I blame myself every day. I tell myself if I had just fucking manned up and told you how I felt sooner then maybe we would have had a chance… and maybe I would have noticed when shit started going sideways.”

There was a flash of vulnerability in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by anger once more. “Now you’re with him and it feels like I’ve completely lost you. Not that I’m complaining. If he’s what you need to heal then… whatever, I’ll just have to get over it. But I need you to know that I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. I don’t care who you’re with, who’s after you, I don’t care! You are and will always be my top priority.” You rubbed reassuring circles into his hand with your thumb. “You say it’s not fair and I get it. It’s not. It’s disgusting. You don’t deserve any of this. For the first time in my life it has me questioning what side I’m on.”

Your entire lives the only things Katsuki seemed to care about was becoming the number one hero and beating Izuku. So, to hear him say that he’s now questioning that broke your heart. “Katsuki, please don’t say that. Even if the hero system is fucked up. That’s doesn’t mean all heroes are too. You’re in it for the right reasons. I have no doubt that if all the hero agencies crumble today, tomorrow you’d be right back on those streets defending the people. You don’t need an official rank to be the number one.”

He let out a huge sigh and you could see the tension leave his shoulders. It was like a huge weight had lifted off of him. He gave you one of his trademark smirks, although it was a little softer than usual. “You always seem to know what to say when I’m falling apart.”

You ran a hand through his spiky blonde hair, “I’d like to think I am an expert Katsuki bomb defuser at this point.” He rolled his eyes, but you could see the slight pink blush dusting his cheeks. “I’ve spent most of my life finding ways to calm you down before you explode, and honestly I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Even though half the time it ended in scrapped knees and pulled pigtails?”

“Sometimes it ended in shared ice cream and hand holding.” You giggled, “You used to hold my hand all the damn time when we were little. Dragging me from one place to the next, always so impatient.” You gave him a puzzled look, “But then one day you stopped out of nowhere and told me it was gross.”

“Tsk. You have my shitty mother to thank for that. When my quirk started developing, she told me to stop holding your hand because I might blow you up.” He gave you sly smile, “Technically she was right, but it still scared the shit out of me.”

You both talked and giggled for what felt like hours. The weight of the pervious day slowly floating away. You probably would have stayed that way for much longer if his phone hadn’t gone off interrupting the two of you.

He glared at his screen before grunting. “I’ve been here too long. I need to get going.” He stood from his comfortable spot next to you and stretched. He gave you a long look over from you head to your toes and back. “I promise I’ll try to not obsess over what you and staples do when I’m not around, if you promise to not do anything stupid.”

“You know I can’t promise that. Weren’t you the one who used to say stupid was my middle name?” He gave you an unamused look and crossed his arms over his chest in frustration. You cut him off before he could start on a lecture. “I promise to try to behave and stay out of trouble. There feel better?”

A drawn our sigh left his lips. If his expression was any indicator, your promise did absolutely nothing for his nerves. “I guess it’ll have to be good enough.” He leaned over and kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be back to check on you in a few days, alright?”

You nodded as he reluctantly made his way back towards the house. You watched him leave but decided to stay outside a little longer. It really was nice outside, and you wanted some more time to yourself before Dabi grilled you about your conversation with Katsuki.

---

Bakugo stomped back into the house and wasn’t surprised when he was quickly apprehended by the very man that plagued his thoughts. “Oi, whatever it is you want to say, say it quick. I got to get out of here before they notice I left.”

“I know the two of you have a lot of history… So…” He looked uncomfortable for a brief second. “She just looks happy when you visit… so uh… thanks.”

Bakugo had to blink back his surprise. He had been preparing himself for a fight. “Yeah well… you obviously aren’t doing a bad job either… she seems comfortable around you.”

The two men spent the next few moments awkwardly staring at each other before Bakugo cleared his throat. “Listen. I think it’s obvious I have feeling for her. She knows that now. But at the end of the day I just want her to be happy. Maybe if things had gone differently, we would have ended up together, and maybe one day we still will. But she’s gone through enough shit recently, and if… if you’re what she needs right now… Then I wont get in the way.”

Now it was Dabi’s turn to be surprised. Everything he knew about the great Dynamight was his unwavering need to be the best, to win, to conquer all opponents. So to him conceding really showed not only how much he had matured in recent years but also how serious he took his relationship with you.

“I’ll always be there for her. Like you said she likes it when I come to visit, so I’ll keep coming around.”

To this Dabi groaned, “Coming to visit is one thing, but hanging all over her and kissing her in front of me is another. Keep your sweaty hands to yourself.”

Bakugo barked out a laugh, “I kissed the top of her head calm down. Don’t tell me you’re not up for a little competition?” When Dabi’s only answer was to only narrow his eyes Bakugo smiled. “Just because I’m not going to throw a fit about the two of you… doing whatever it is you’re doing… doesn’t mean I’ve completely given up. If you ever mess up, and let’s be honest you probably will… I’m going to be there for her.”

“I’m actually counting on it.”

Bakugo gave him one last glance before nodding and making his way towards the exit.

Dabi joined you outside as the soft breeze kissed his always too warm skin. You kept your eyes closed as you heard his heavy feet approaching. “If you’re grumpy about Katsuki I don’t want to hear about it.”

His large form blocked the sun as he hovered over you. “What would I have to be grumpy about? He’s not the one you were begging to fuck you in the shower this morning.” His rough hands ran over your bare legs. “Put some real clothes on we have some errands to run.”

Your eyes snapped open. “Errands? Like we’re leaving the house? I’m going outside?”

“Well technically you go outside all the time, but yes, you will be leaving the property today. Stretch your legs, get some fresh air and all that good stuff. I don’t know if you noticed but we are really low on groceries and there’s only enough ice cream left for one of us and I don’t like you enough to share… So go change.”

You practically sprinted back to your room. You threw on the one dress you had that had come in one of your care packages from Izuku and Shoto. The only other clothes you had were either T-shirts, pajamas, or belonged to Dabi.

You knew you had a pair of shoes somewhere, but you couldn’t remember where you put them. You hadn’t exactly needed them until now. The longer you looked the more your nerves ate at you.

Were you ready to leave? You were safe here. Did you want to leave your little bubble?

You knew Dabi wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but it was still terrifying.

A soft knock broke you from your thoughts. “What’s taking so long?”

“Sorry, can’t find my shoes.”

To this he nodded, “Oh they’re in the garage.”

“How did they get there?”

He shrugged, “You threw them at me once, so I hid them.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes you made your way over to him. “What you scared or something?”

His hands gripped your waist and pulled you to him, “Oh a shoe? No. Of you throwing said shoe at me? Of course. I would be stupid not to be afraid of you.”

You smiled proudly, “Damn right. And don’t you forget it.”

He gave your hips a squeeze, “I could get used to seeing you in a dress.” His hand snaked around to you lower back finding your long braid and grinned evilly as he grabbed it and wrapped it around his wrist effectively pulling you head back and baring your neck to him. “Oh and this braid is amazing.” His lips brushed over your bare shoulder, then your neck, your cheek, before finally giving you a quick peck on your lips.

You reached up on your tippy toes to ghost your lips over his. “Remember when I wanted to have sex this morning and your promised if I was still desperate later, you’d fuck me?” A fire lit in his eyes as he silently nodded. “You leaned even closer but still kept your lips from fully connecting with his. “Karma’s a bitch.”

“UGH!” His hands left you as he did what you could only assume was his version of pouting. “You fucking brat…Let’s go. The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and lock ourselves in our room.”

Our room? It was the first time he had said that. You weren’t sure which room he was referring to, but either way, you kind of liked the way it sounded.

You held your hand out to him, “Oh come on now. Don’t be like that. You can hold my hand.”

He glared at you then your hand and then back to you. “No thanks. They probably are still covered in nitroglycerin from your little friend and I’d hate to accidentally look control of my quirk and blow us up.”

You balled up the hand you had offered to him and punched his shoulder, “Who’s the brat now?”

He led you to the garage in silence, noticing the way your shoulders tensed the closer you got. Right before you reached the door, he stopped you. “I know this is probably just as scary as it is exciting so just need you to remember a couple things, okay? One.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and looked you straight in the eye. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I think we both know I’m not above cremating someone’s fingers off if they even so much as look at you the wrong way. Two. You are way stronger than you feel right now. You may have been through hell, but you came out stronger than you went in.”

His eyes suddenly got very serious. “And most importantly three. Despite number one and two, I need you to be careful and stay close to me. I can’t help you if I can’t get to you, and just because you can take care of yourself doesn’t mean you should have to. It’s just a quick run to a grocery store and back. No reason to get into any trouble.”

You nodded enthusiastically, your excitement starting to overpower your nerves. He looked you up and down and smirked. His fingers came up to pinch your nipple through your dress which had you immediately moaning and pressing closer to him. “I’ll tell you what…one thing we will not being buying today is a bra.” Your teeth pressed into your bottom lip as you held back a whine of pleasure. He gave your nipple one last tug before letting go and backing away. “I love the easy access.”

You took a steadying breath before following him into the garage. You opened the door to the familiar car. The last time you had been in this car, you had been mute, malnourished, and Dabi was digging into you with his knife. You stared at the passenger seat for a moment too long.

“I promise not to stab you again, now hurry up and get in.” You took another moment to appreciate how far you’ve come since the last time you were in this car.

The second your ass was in the seat, Dabi was buckling your seat belt and pulling a hat over your head. “Here put these on too.” He handed you a pair or sunglasses. “We’re going out in disguise.” He smirked, “Well you are, there’s really no way for me to hide this handsome mug.”

“I don’t know. you have white hair now. Match that with some glasses and a bag over your head, and I don’t think anyone would recognize you.”

He reached over you and pulled a pair of sunglasses and a medical mask out of his glove box. “Hmm fresh out of bags. Maybe we should pick some up for later.” He wagged his eyebrows at you.

The wind blew through the open windows as the music surrounded you. For a moment it was easy to close your eyes and pretend this was just a normal day. The past few years didn’t happen, and you were just headed to the store on your day off. You hummed along with the song and even dared to sing a few words.

Dabi suddenly found it hard to concentrate with you singing next to him. He could feel your hum vibrate in his bones. Your words filled his lungs with air while simultaneously making it harder to breath. He’d like to think this was part of your quirk. But something told him it was something else entirely.

Before he could stop himself, his hand found it’s way to your thigh. He had no other intention than just touching you. He just wanted to feel you, feel your skin on his. Your presence filled the car and his hands itched to connect with you in any way they could.

His thumb rubbed absentminded circles as he found himself being hypnotized by your existence. The spell only broken when he pulled into a parking spot. Now reality was crashing back in. He suddenly had the need to rush you back home and lock you away. This world was awful. It didn’t deserve you. “Sorry… Sometimes my singing does that. I didn’t realize I was doing it.” Your hand ran through his hair as if the friction would reboot his thoughts. You could see the confused desire in his eyes start to fade. “I can’t explain it, but just like how my voice can hypnotize, sometimes when I sing it amplifies whatever it is you want in the moment.” You shrugged, “It so rarely happens that I don’t really know what triggers it.”

With a final blink of his eyes his thoughts seemed to clear. The overwhelming desire ebbed but didn’t disappear completely. He was quick to grab your hand as soon as you had both exited the car. “Oh? And what happened to there being too much nitroglycerin on my hands?”

“Shut up.” He yanked your arm rather aggressively as he stormed off into the store.

You weren’t prepared for how ridiculous you would feel. You wish you could take a picture to send to the yourself a few years ago. Here you were with a white haired, former villain Dabi, who had a grocery basket in one hand and your hand in the other. Both of looking totally inconspicuous as the florescent lights reflected off of your sunglasses that he insisted needed to stay on. The borderline elevator music that played in over the speakers just daring you to giggle.

With half of your shopping done you came to the realization that you had been freaking out over nothing. It wasn’t like there was someone hiding behind every corner waiting to drag you back to the lab. Just because it seemed like the world was out to get you didn’t actually mean the world was out to get you.

You were starting to let your guard down just a little bit. You let go of Dabi’s hand for all of ten seconds, which apparently was enough for a lecture. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Your hand hovered over a box of cereal, “Uh… I’m sorry do you not like Lucky Charms? Are you more of a Cinnamon Toast Crunch kinda guy?”

He snagged a box off the shelf before grabbing your hand again. “For my sanity… please don’t let go of my hand.”

“Oh come on I was all of two feet away. What’s going to happen in two feet.”

He lowered his sunglasses so you could see how serious he was. “If we lived in a world where everyone was quirkless… not a lot. But here in this world, where people can do bat shit crazy things… Super speed, portals, explosions, flight, laser beams, do you need me to keep going.”

“Okay I get it. I’m sorry.”

His grip on your hand tightened as he pulled you down the next isle. He was making it really hard to act normal when he insisted on treating you like a child. You gave his hand a tug to get his attention. “Hey look at me.” He hesitated momentarily before turning to look at you and pulling you both to a stop. By the way he was looking at you he knew you were upset, but he looked like the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. “I get that you’re on edge, but I’m not a child. You gave me this huge speech before we left the house, but now you’re the one freaking out.” You gave him a quick hug. “Out of respect for your paranoia, I promise to stay within arm’s reach. But remember I’m not helpless.”

His shoulders slumped, but he nodded anyways. “Yeah my bad. I think I just underestimated how uncomfortable I’d be.” His shoulder bumped yours. “But until we get back home…I’m going to keep being an overprotective asshole, and you have no choice but to deal with it.” He started his dragging you down isles again. “You may not be a child, but if you pull away from me again, I will literally find a collar and a leash and make you my pet for the day.”

“You’re joking right… right?” He had to be joking. There’s no way he’d follow through with that… right? Part of you knew he honestly would and he’d probably fucking love it.

“Why don’t you keep fucking around and find out?” He smirked which made it even harder to figure out if he was serious or not.

You decided you weren’t going to test him. Not today. Hopefully there would be more trips in your future, and maybe he’d ease up by then. Today he seemed stressed enough to actually snap and follow through with his threat.

He continued to hold the basket for you while he let you reach out and grab whatever you wanted. He wasn’t even really paying attention to the items you were putting in the basket, as his head remained on a swivel, looking for anything suspicious. If he had, he would have noticed it was predominantly junk food. That’s fine. You could stand to gain a few more pounds. He’d make sure to sneak some healthy stuff in there at some point.

You were making your way to check out when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him.

“Dabi? Hey man is that you?” He instinctively placed you behind him as he turned to face his old colleague. “Holy shit it is you! I wasn’t sure because your hair it totally different, but those staples are a dead giveaway. What’s up man? Haven’t seen you in years! What have you been up to?”

You clung to the back of his shirt and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “I’m doing my own thing now.” His voice was much lower than usual and it sent chills down your spine.

When the mystery man caught on that he wasn’t going to get any more out of him he pressed, “I heard there’s a couple of the guys who’ve been trying to get ahold of you recently. They need help with something. The money’s supposed to be pretty good.”

The man’s eyes shifted to try and get a look at you behind Dabi, but Dabi just shifted to shield you from view. “Not interested. I have enough money.” The man was starting to give him a weird look and it was pissing Dabi off. “Do you have a problem?”

“No, but obviously you do. What crawled up your ass and died? And who’s your new little friend?” He craned his neck to try get a peek at you. “As long as I’ve known you, I never knew you to be the domestic type. She the reason you’ve fallen off the grid?”

Dabi’s hand started to glow with flames. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll mind your fucking business.”

“Oh shit. She must be something special to get the big bad Dabi playing guard dog.” He lifted his hands up in surrender, “But don’t worry about it, man. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Dabi kept his eyes on him until he was out of sight and quickly turned back to the check-out line, “We need to hurry and get the hell out of here. That guy works for the League as a hitman. It’s possible we didn’t see him by accident.” He ushered you through the line and quickly paid for the few groceries you had and was practically sprinting towards the exit.

You made it back to the car and you let go of his hand to quickly make you way around to the passenger side. You had your hand on the door handle when your instincts started screaming. Your eyes cut to the store and then back to Dabi. “I think someone’s i-“

A hand slammed on top of your mouth as you were pulled backwards and in a whirl of wind and disorienting speed you ended up on the other end of the parking and moments later you saw blue fames spurting off in all directions where you had been standing earlier.

“What a temper that guy has.”

You looked up and saw the man from the store. His quirk must have been super speed and you knew you’d never hear the end of this from Dabi.

His hand gripped your chin, “What’s so special about you huh? What could you possibly have that would domesticate that beast of a man?” He pushed you to your knees in front of him.

Your panic was setting in. All the years of training, all the hard work you put in, and the only thing you could think of was running away. You bottom lip trembled. “I’m quirkless… I’m his… his pet.” You hoped you could find a way to stall for time. You had faith Dabi could handle whoever he was currently fighting and then he’d come for you. You just needed to make sure this guy didn’t run off with you again.

The man laughed loudly, “I have to admit I always thought he was a bit of a freak. But having a quirkless little play thing isn’t what I was expecting.” He turned your head to one side and then the other getting a good look at you. “You sure are fucking pretty though… I guess I can see the appeal. Maybe I’ll take you with me.”

Your fight or flight was kicking in, and you knew for a fact there was no outrunning this man. You activated your quirk and locked eyes with him. This was the first time you had used your quirk offensively in a long time. But it was like riding a bike. First you used your voice. “You don’t want to do that. No, you’re a good boy. You want to let me go.”

You watched as his eyes glassed over briefly before he shook his head. “What the fuck! Get out of my head! Quirkless my ass!” His hand left your chin and back handed you. Your head hit a cement parking divider. So maybe it wasn’t like riding a bike.

You needed to focus. No half assing this. Growing up you had learned that your quirk was like a battery. You could either go at full strength for a short period of time or lower strength for a longer period of time. You just needed to up the strength. “I SAID!”

He sprinted away before you could finish talking. You looked around frantically to see where he went but before you could find him he was sprinting by you and kicking you as he passed. His strategy was smart. You wouldn’t be able to get him if he kept moving. He continued his game of sprinting by you and kicking you or hitting you until you were a bloody mess on the ground. Where the fuck was Dabi?

You were pissed. You had had definitely been through worse. You spit out some blood from your split lip. “You hit like a fucking bitch!” You smeared blood and saliva all over your hands and waited. “Fucking fight me you pussy!”

You listened closely for the familiar sound of him approaching. Right before he got to you you rolled over and grabbed his leg as he attempted to kick you. You tackled him to the ground and shoved your hand in his face smearing your blood all over his face, forcing your blood and spit into his mouth.

He sputtered before shoving you off of him and spitting on you. “What the fuck? You’re fucking disgusting!” He tried to stand up to get away from you, but your quirk was starting to work on him. You blood was slowly paralyzing him. You watched as his eyes started to harden inn fear.

“Great keep those open for me.” You locked eyes with him again. “What did you want with Dabi?”

You watched his thoughts as he showed you instructions from Shigaraki. He was supposed to locate Dabi and ask him what his connection was to the people who worked for your hero agency. Apparently, word had gotten out that he had been hunting people and The League wanted to know why.

You heard footsteps rapidly approaching you. You swung around as fast as you throbbing head would let you. Relief flooded over your entire body when you saw it was Dabi. He skidded to a stop when he saw the state you were in. He looked between you and the now paralyzed man on the ground. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

The man managed a creepy chuckle. “She must be that siren hero everyone’s looking for huh?” You were impressed he could still talk at this point, but it was obvious the rest of his body was frozen. “They said she was dangerous…she didn’t feel that dangerous when my foot was connecting with her face.”

Dabi let out a feral growl and he stalked over to him hands out ready to burn him to ashes.

“Dabi NO!” You coughed as you grabbed your ribs. “Stop… he can’t move. We can just call Katsuki, he’ll come pick him up.”

Dabi turned to look at you, his eyes practically glowing. “No fucking way. He’s seen you, he knows too much.” The flames in his hands got hotter. “Just look at what he fucking did to you! He’s not leaving here alive. So either you let me burn him and scatter the evidence or you take this fucking knife I have in my pocket and kill him yourself. Either way this asshole dies now. I told him to mind his own fucking business… he signed his own death sentence.”

You stood up and squared off with him. “I said no… We don’t have to kill him. We can just turn him in!”

“YOU CANT BE THAT STUPID!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair leaving black streak of soot in their wake in his white hair. “We turn him in, he gets arrested. The people who are looking for you… the ‘heroes’ will integrate him and find out your with me. Then it’ll only be a matter of time before we’re on the run.” He reached in his pocket and held out a knife to you, “He dies now. End of discussion. What’ll it be.”

You looked at the knife in his hand before crossing your arms over your chest and averting your eyes.

“That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t watch as he incinerated the man who was helpless to stop it, but you could smell the burning flesh and you could hear the brief scream of agony before it was gone.

Dabi waited until his hands had cooled down before he bent over and scooped you up. “It had to be done.” The car was still running with the driver door open from where he had driven over here and hopped out. He tucked you into the font seat and took a look into the back seat, “Fuck… the ice cream is melting.”

Your eyes bulged at him as he gunned it towards the main road, “You just murdered someone with no sympathy, but heaven forbid the ice cream melts!”

“Actually, I just murdered two people. And I would do it again without hesitation. I was looking forward to that ice cream!”

********

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99

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paperstarwriters · 3 years

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Mercury?

This is terribly written and I am so sorry for that. I barely edited this and it shows. I just wanted the Autobots to learn about Bohemian Rhapsody is that so bad?

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It was a peaceful day. Megatron and his Decepticons were currently off of their radar for the time being, but that didn't mean that they could be lax. Peace never lasted long. For war torn veterans of war, peace was to be cherished, not squandered. For children who felt more entertained at being put at danger than they did afraid, peace was "Boring", and they sought to make that evidently clear to everyone in the room.

Ah, correction. She.

Jack and Raf were sensible enough to be weary whenever the Deceptions reared their collective heads around. Miko however often acted as if she could fight Primus himself with nothing more than a screwdriver. Miko liked to brag that she'd do it with her bare hands. They hadn't believed her for a good while, until she tried to threaten Megatron during their weary truce. Ratchet argued that it still made him anxious every time he saw Miko run off somewhere, no matter how mundane, and most of the team was inclined to agree. Wheeljack was regarded as a different case entirely.

Now, Miko wasn't so cruel as to beg fate to send a Deception attack their way. She did, in her own way, appreciate peace. Just not the peace that they wanted. Because of this, Miko often brought the odd item to the base. Her guitar and sound system, a video game for the TV. Miko bringing in a new toy was almost expected whenever peace stretched on for longer than an hour.

"Looooook what I got!!" Miko cheered slinging herself out of Bulkhead's seat, holding a large and clunky looking box with her. For all they knew, she could be holding a small bomb, but by Jack and Raf's unimpressed reactions it didn’t' seem to be anything too troubling.

"Geez, that thing looks ancient, where'd you get it from?" Jack asked, pressing on the buttons of the box tentatively. "Besides, we have the bots for that don't we? Or, well you guys do."

Miko scoffed rolling her eyes. "Oh come on Jack. It’s a boom box! It's a part of the aesthetic!!"

Bulkhead, who listened in more blatantly than the others, cast a weary glance to the 'boom box' in question. "Uh, Miko, you still haven't told me what that thing does…"

"It's like a radio, the kind you guys have, only bigger and clunkier." Raf explained. "Where did you get it?

At this Miko puffed up her chest proudly brandishing the box over her shoulder. "Ms. Fairfax was cleaning some stuff out, and guess who just so happened to be there after school to collect this beauty!"

Jack rolled his eyes though he grinned while he did. "You were only there because you were in detention."  

Miko stuck out her tongue. "That doesn’t matter. What matters is that now, I've got this!"

Hitting a button on the box Miko opened a compartment and retrieved a smaller box from within the boom box. This thing was flatter and telling by Jack's reaction, no more impressive than the boom box. At this point, however, Miko's chaos seemed to garner everyone's attention, and even Optimus who was busy at the base's main computers, leaned in a little to see what was going on.

"A cassette?" Raf asked, perhaps for the sake of their audience.

"Not just any cassette!"

Miko put the cassette back into the box, and hit another button. There was a weighty silence which should have been filled with Optimus' typing and Ratchet's tinkering, and whatever else anyone was pretending to do while they listened. And then a voice began to sing And then a song began to play

 Raf and Jack spared a glance to one another, and grinned.

Since their enlistment in the team, the humans have given the bots a very in depth lesson on different types of music. Miko did most often, but Raf also introduced Ratchet to his 'study playlist', filled with classical earth music that Raf said helped him concentrate. Ratchet shrugged at the offer made a comment about 'limited earth technology', then proceeded to play the entire playlist on loop deep into the night, as he worked away with Optimus by his side. Jack offered his own tastes with Arcee and Bee, a playlist of some popular songs, or even some that he admitted were lesser known. There were some that had a very valiant theme, and when Bee and Arcee raced they'd sometimes use Jack's music to race to. Even agent Fowler gave his own few songs that he enjoyed, though the lyrics were rather off putting to most of the team.

One clear lesson that the bots took from it all was that music tastes varied, and what might be popular to one, was bizarre and unknown to another—even among humans. Jack and Raf knew popular local songs, but miko did not. Jack knew more 'pop' songs than Raf did, and Raf knew more classical music. Amidst the three it was long deemed impossible for them to all know a song without having to teach the others before hand.

And yet.

Miko started as soon as the music began to play, nearly yelling all the lyrics to the song, before Raf and Jack joined in enthusiastically. It was jarring, a rather slow paced song, treated with such fervor and excitement from the three. Ratchet groaned at the noise, returning to his work, but he did not ask them to stop. On the other hand (with the exception of Optimus who simply smiled as he continued to listen and to work), most of the team had given up on pretending and approached the three singers as an audience. The lyrics were filled with meaning that twisted the children's faces into a dramatic agony while the guitar picked up. Miko nailed the solo, on her air guitar her hands moving with less of her usual overdramatic flash, and with a flare as if she were holding the guitar, and had memorized every chord. Jack and Raf bashed at the air, a trick foreign to Bee and Arcee, but known as 'air drums' to the resident air drumming star, Bulkhead.

The song took a drastic switch from melodramatic, to a more playful piano melody, and a lot of nonsensical words that the children never sang at precisely the right moment. Many parts of the song sounded like a conversation, but they could never decide who was speaking first and who spoke second. And then, after a high note that Miko almost hit, it erupted into a rock style burst, and the kids had at it, with headbanging, careless air guitars and air drums. The energy was infectious, and those who had taken the front row seats, danced about with the others for what was a surprisingly short rock moment.

The song mellowed out all over again and the kids sang it out dutifully until the very end marked by a crash that Miko mimicked while Raf air played the instrument.

For such a bizarre mix of music from slow to fast to slow again, the bots caught themselves on various occasions humming and nodding their head to the song. On occasion, if the kids weren’t around with their own music, Bulkhead would play the song from his speakers. Sometimes Arcee would sing a line or two, and if Bee was around, all three of them would end up half muttering and half singing the song. Bee and Bulkhead usually tried to sing with the same kind of fervor that the kids had. Sometimes even Ratchet complained that he had the song stuck in his head. It didn't stop him from tapping his pede whenever Bulkhead played it.

On one rare day with Optimus on curbside duty, he had the chance to see just how many humans knew the song. Miko was playing it loud on her boom box, and a small crowd of eagerly dramatic singers followed her and her music. Yet, that wasn’t all. Kids on the sidelines sang idly along, even as some worked away at homework. Optimus patiently waited for the song to finish, and when he did, he opened his door and let the kids in.

They told adamant tales about how the song could be sung with near perfection by a sea of people and how besides a country's national anthem, this was the rare song that everyone seemed to know. There were others of course, but that depended on the place, generation, and community. None apparently reached as far as Freddie Mercury's Rhapsody. Truly the final nail in the coffin was when Bulkhead was playing the song, the kids humming along, having long forgone singing every time it came on, and Agent Fowler walked in. He looked like he was about to bark about something, only to stop as he noted the song. Clearly, whatever it was was not so important if he could be so easily swayed.  

Optimus asked him about the song, and if he knew it, and Fowler took (what Optimus now understood was) mock offence and told Bulkhead to turn it up. Agent fowler sung the remaining song brilliantly, getting the kids to join in with him as well. Fowler even hit the high note which earned a pat on the back which may as well have been a shove from Miko.

From then on, Optimus put effort into learning the song.

He quickly understood that his deep voice would not be able to reach the high note, but he put in effort on the rest of the song, to the point that he knew the song by heart. He appreciated the lyrics, finding them both odd and sympathetic at the same time, which he told Ratchet when he responded to his idle humming of the song with a muttered singing of all of the lyrics. Ratchet still stared at him oddly for it.

With Optimus followed Bulkhead, and Bee, and reluctantly, Arcee. Even more reluctantly so, Ratchet, who on another night of working away, asked Optimus for the lyrics to the song. He handed them over without question or comment, but Ratchet still avoided his gaze days later.

So, it was no wonder, that nearly a month later, after Miko had gained a collection of songs for her boom box, that when the song played again, the whole team broke out into song. Uneven, wonky song where they sometimes stumbled over who was singing what, but they sang it nonetheless, too caught up in the melody to notice that the kids had stopped to stare at them. They sung as they worked, nonchalantly for some and with playful vigour for others. When they did realize that they hadn't sung, the gong had already sounded.

"No way." Miko hissed, eyeing both Optimus and Ratchet. Optimus stood proud as ever, while in contrast Ratchet avoided eye contact.

And they played the song again, arguing that they wanted to sing with them. It was the most horrible and amazing experience they all shared together singing the song terribly whenever it came on. It was fun and silly, and planted firmly in everyone's processor to teach their friends the song as soon as they could.

The next day, Miko (by harassing Agent Fowler) hauled in a karaoke machine, and smiled.

#Transformers #Primus this is so terribly written #I am so sorry #Optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #bulkhead #arcee #jack darby #miko nakadai #rafael esquivel #Transformers prime #tfp #transformers memes #Crack fic

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scribblingfangirl · 3 years

Text

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings: // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected.

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.)

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you.

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie.

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been.

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly.

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before.

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible.

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there.

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.”

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing.

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence.

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open.

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?).

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again.

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be.

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?)

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room.

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.”

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.)

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!”

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.”

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit.

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!”

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej @ifilwtmfc

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke patterson x reader #reggie peters x reader #alex mercer x reader #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp one shot #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms oneshot #julie and the phantoms one shot #my writing #viascribbles

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

The Music of Love

(A/N): This is requested by several anons and it’s based on that post. I got a bit caried away, but I hope you like it 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

Summary: When Spencer’s daughter voices an interest in playing the piano, he is exatic to teach her. After all, it’s their music of love Wordcount: 1.3k

✨Masterlist✨ __________________________________

After the case with the autistic boy, who communicated with him over playing piano, Spencer found a new meaning in this particular instrument. He grew fond of it, started learning how to play it properly without just doing the math.

Though he now has a few years of training he also knows that his skills are mediocre. Nothing astonishing but also nothing bad. It’s nice enough to listen to, but it is nothing you get to hear at an opera or orchestra.

For Spencer this doesn’t matter. He found a new love within the piano. A love he really wants to share with somebody else. Nobody in the team ever expressed an interest in it, so the man keeps it to himself, enjoying his own music alone.

Then his daughter comes around and Spencer is ecstatic. Finally he is able to share all his knowledge as soon as she is old enough.

“Daddy, I wanna play an instrument. Carl at kindergarten said he plays the drums. But I don’t like them, they are pretty loud and so unorganized. Can I learn something different?” The day has come for him. As a responsible father he waited until (Y/N) expressed herself interest in something, he doesn’t want to force her to do anything she doesn’t like.

“It is disorganized, baby. Of course you can learn an instrument. Do you have any idea or do you want me to sign you in in anything?” Secretly Spencer hopes for one certain sentence.

“I want to play the piano like you, Daddy. Can you teach me?” The girl’s decision is made by two simple reasons: One, Spencer is her number one role model and (Y/N) wants to be just like him. Two, she is pretty shy and doesn’t do good with meeting new people, so it would be better to be taught by someone, who she already knows.

“Of course, Sweetheart. What about we start after lunch? When you eat everything up I will teach you, deal?” This kind of bribe has to be used around (Y/N) since she has a habit of talking so much she forgets to eat her food and stops being hungry.

After a short moment of contemplating she shakes her father’s hand to confirm that they have in fact a deal.

Lunch consists of several slices of fruits and a sandwich in the form of a dinosaur. Spencer saw a cookie cutter for sandwiches and he couldn’t resist buying it. Since he told Penelope about it as she spotted his dinosaur lunch one day (his daughter insisted on having matching lunches, so she knows she will eat the same thing as her father), she gets the little family another cutter, whenever she sees one in the store.

After she ate everything on her plate, Spencer sits down with her in front of the piano in his room, pulling her on his lap.

“Ok (Y/N), are you ready for the basics?” The girl nods. This is enough for the father to go on about the notes, explaining to her the differences and tangenting to a few fun facts on the side. She sits quietly beside Spencer, concentrating on his words and their meanings. “Do you want to play something?” “Can you show me a tune first, Daddy?”

He decides on something simple, playing a few notes from a children's song. After watching intently, (Y/N) plays the exact same notes. Spencer smiles. “You did really good today, Sweetheart. What about we continue tomorrow?”

From then on they practise on the piano everyday. Or rather any day Spencer is there in the afternoon after Kindergarten.

For several weeks now Spencer feels like he only comes home to sleep in his bed for a few hours. The team jumps from case to case, never being at home for more than two days in a row.

This also burdens everyone’s family life. (Y/N) lives with Penelopefor the most part, whenever her father is on a case overnight. One evening she asks her Auntie while picking at her dinner with tears in her eyes: “Auntie Penny, does Daddy not love me anymore?”

The tech analyst’s heart broke into pieces. Seeing her god daughter in so much emotional pain and not being able to do anything than trying to convince her she is so much loved, makes her sad.

“Oh no, my sweet sweet summer child. Your father loves you so much, he just has to be away so often to catch the bad guys and girls. He wants to make the world safer for you”, Penelope tells her while cradling the girl in her arms. A few tears escape (Y/N)’s eyes.

“But Charles told me today he is away, because he can’t stand me. Am I a bad girl? Was I naughty? I promise I will be better, when Daddy comes back.” It takes everything in the woman to not break out in tears herself.

She pets her hair and presses a kiss on it. “Charles is only jealous his father isn’t a hero like yours is. You weren’t bad or naughty, him being away is not your fault. He helps other people and you with his job.” (Y/N) looks up at the blonde.

“Daddy is a hero?” She asks in a small voice, streaks of tears still visible on her face. “The best out there”, Penelope confirms and hugs her tightly. “Now come on, your dino nuggies get cold.”

The next day comes with a great surprise for the small child. “(Y/N), your Dad is here to get you”, her teacher calls out for her. “DADDY!!”

“Hey Sweetheart”, Spencer picks his daughter up, holding her close. “You are back”, she murmurs into his neck, burying her head there. “I am. God, I missed you so much.” “I missed you, too”, she whispers.

“Come on, let us go home.”

On the ride back to their apartment (Y/N) is conspicuously quiet. But Spencer doesn’t pressure her. Maybe she just has to realize he is back. Maybe she is tired. There are a million reasons for a not talking child. Still, the father has a feeling in his gut that it is not that her nap didn’t last long enough.

“Hey, do you wanna practise playing the piano with me?” He asks her after settling down at their home. But (Y/N) does something that has never happened before: She shakes her head no.

Spencer is taken aback by her reaction. Usually she already sits on the chair in front of it before he even finishes his question. But today she isn’t in for it.

“What is it, Baby? Why are you so sad? Are you mad at me?” He crouches down in front of his daughter, who took a seat on the sofa. With teary eyes she looks up at him, since her father is still towering over her.

“Why do you don’t love me anymore? What did I do?” She knows she asked the same questions Penelope yesterday. She already told Spencer about (Y/N)’s worries. But these are the kind of words you can’t prepare for before hearing them.

“Sweetheart, I love you more than anything in this world. You didn’t do anything, there isn’t anything that you can do to make me love you less. I know I’m away a lot but I promise you, the next two weeks are just about the two of us. You aren’t going to Kindergarten, we are going to spend some time together, ok?” Tears threaten to fall down his face.

When Spencer heard about this boy being mean to his daughter, he was furious. But he knew there is not much that can be done. So he opted for showing this child that (Y/N) has the best father in the world. Immediately he asked for two weeks of vacation, which Hotch approved without even thinking.

“Just you and I?” The girl asks hopefully. After a confirming nod, she throws herself at Spencer, hugging him tightly.

“Do you wanna play now?” This time the question is met by excitement. Spencer sits (Y/N) down on his lap. Together they play a four handed piece of music, pouring all their emotions in it. Because they don’t need words to be said to feel each other’s mood. It’s enough to share a burning passion.

Taglist x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x daughter!reader #x child!reader

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mandoinevarro · 4 years

Text

An Overdue Debt

Words: 4.3K

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, fingering, mentions of violence, spoilers for The Mandalorian

a/n: rip IG-11 but im different

The Mandalorian had gotten used to finding you on his cot. On the nights he’d manage to make it back to the ship, after capturing quarry or escaping bounty hunters chasing the child; after making it out of every peril that crossed his path within an inch of his life day after exhausting day, he’d climb the ramp and find you on his cot.

Usually, by the time the hunter had shut the hull and carbon frozen his bounties, the baby would already be asleep, the ship orderly, and all controls double-checked and ready for takeoff. You were thorough. It seemed to him like you had a sixth sense. From the day he’d hired you, he’d seen you tinkle with every item in the sad collection of the Razor Crest’s old and overused equipment that would’ve fallen apart otherwise. You would oil his gear, check controls, and do any number of things to facilitate the smooth sailing of his ship.

He hadn’t heard the kid cry in weeks. Before the tiny infant could get a chance to work some tears out of his sooty eyes, you were already feeding him, burping him, or providing him with whatever it was that would sooth the surging tantrum immediately. It amazed him how you seemed to be able to fix just about everything you’d touch with those soft little hands of yours. The same hands that he would imagine fondly tracing every dip and scar on his chest and raising goosebumps on his skin, on the days when he’d feel particularly lonely.

Little by little, you’d repaired, oiled, and mended your way into the Mandalorian’s existence, making yourself a crucial part of his everyday life. It only took a couple of weeks for the bounty hunter to realize how essentially fucked he’d be if you ever decided to leave for a more promising and peaceful future than he could ever offer you. Sometimes, he’d study the patched up cables that stuck out of bullet holes on walls and the monitors that had stopped glitching so often ever since you’d focused your attention on them. He would envy the lifeless machinery then, for having the privilege of benefitting from your careful ministrations. The Mandalorian had wondered whether you’d also be willing to offer your healing touch to him, who—as far as you knew from the beskar that covered every inch of his human self and the modulated voice that filtered out all emotional depth—was half a machine himself.

Eventually, he had obtained his answer.

You’d responded to his mute question after he’d gone back for the kid in Nevarro. The bounty hunter had told you to wait for him on the ship, but hadn’t mentioned his intentions in the gray city. He’d only left you with the ominous instruction to take the Crest and never come back to the planet if he wasn’t back in an hour.

After three and a half hours of shooting his way out of the contained battle he’d unleashed near the gates of the city, he hadn’t expected to see the Razor Crest unmoving in the darkening horizon, right where he’d left it. He definitely hadn’t expected the rush of relief that made his spine dissolve when he found you still waiting for him once he’d climbed back through the hull—your eyes sunken in their sockets with concern and your lips chaffed from anxious biting—nor the way your gaze softened at the swampy child he knew you’d both learned to love.

You hadn’t asked any questions when you took the baby and carried him to the cockpit to cradle him in your arms. You hadn’t talked to him as, once in hyperspace, you and the Mandalorian had crafted a makeshift crib together for the sleeping kid from a rectangular metal container and some old rags. Adrenaline and urgency still beating like drums in his ears after such a close encounter with death, he hadn’t dared say a word either, out of fear of what he might reveal to you in his delirium.

But you’d known.

Somehow, among the aftershocks of fighting and below the cluster of stars and supernovas that shifted like snakes in hyperspace, you’d managed to see through the helmet and figure out exactly what he needed, like you’d done so many times with busted motors and faulty sensors. After finishing the crib, you’d taken its unconscious owner down to the hull. The Mandalorian had sentenced himself to his chair to try and still the punchy beating of his heart, that he knew had more to do at this point with the knowledge that you’d put your own life on the line to wait for him than with his altercations in Nevarro.

But you’d come back.

You’d silently slithered your way back into the cockpit and stood right in front of him with trembling legs, looking for his eyes behind the visor. Wordlessly, you’d unbuckled your belt, slipped your pants down, and climbed onto his lap. His fingers had dug into the leather arms of the chair as you’d started moving on top of him in gentle circles. He remembered blushing at how fast you’d been able to get him hard and how all the blood had dropped from his face to his genitals when you’d lowered his zipper and freed his swollen cock. He remembered the persistent smell that had crawled underneath the helmet when you had shoved your underwear to the side and guided him inside your dripping folds.

Mando had fucked you then, with quick, hard thrusts and a vice grip on your ass that had most likely left bruises. He’d fucked you every single night that followed, as well. After freezing whatever bounty he would manage to catch and setting coordinates for the Crest’s next destination, he’d descend the ladder to find you. He never needed to tell you a thing, since you would just shove what little clothing was necessary as soon as you’d catch a glimpse of him and present your body to him, to do as he pleased. Night after night, you’d welcome him wet and willing, perched on whatever surface you two would see fit for your fucking. So, after trying the pilot’s chair, the floor, and several storage boxes, he’d gotten used to finding you on his cot.

Mando knew he was always rough with you. Whether he was coming back from a hunt or from a stakeout, it was always stress, anguish, and burning lust at the mere sight of you that guided his every movement, and they translated to a fistful of your hair or a sudden bump against your cervix. From the first time, he’d lost himself in the dizzying sensation of your slippery walls around him, clenching tighter with every thrust and squeezing every drop of sanity out of him. He’d become addicted to the clammy sound of your cum around his length as he took out all of his frustrations on the stretch of your pussy.

He would only ever take you from behind while you knelt in front of his bunk or against a wall, spilling his seed outside, every time. He’d never actually seen you naked. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it—the curiosity of how gorgeous you probably looked like with no clothes on haunted his every waking thought—, but he knew it wasn’t part of the unspoken deal you two had struck. Out of pity, he assumed, you’d offered yourself to him as a stress reliever, and nothing more.

At first, though, Mando had been surprised at how often and loud you’d moan for him; later he’d figured it was just another way you’d though of to please him. The whimpers would float around the recycled air of his empty ship and bounce on his helmet, unable to pierce through the tough beskar. So he would take what he could get and tried his best to shut the desire for a more profound intimacy that he ached for. Until, one day, it could no longer be held back.

After his clash with Moff Guideon and the army of Imps, it took Mando a few hours to grasp that he had survived. Somehow, hugely outnumbered and wounded, the bounty hunter’s own small army had managed to defeat the enemy troops and get away with the child, not without two losses that still hung too somber on his guts for him to process properly. He sat on his chair with his son resting next to him for hours, watching space break down to pieces from the cockpit. He thought about IG-11, how he’d lifted his helmet and seen his most secret self through red sensors. Mando remembered how much he’d wished for you at that moment, wanting nothing more but to replace the droid’s neutral features with your own lovely ones. He’d known his son was safe and had made peace with his impending death, but he hadn’t been able to shake a feeling of unfulfillment for knowing that he’d never gotten to truly see you or feel you.

But he had survived.

So Mando sat in the cockpit until he lost track of time, almost hoping that—as always—you’d simply guess what he yearned for and provide it for him. But, eventually, when you didn’t magically appear in front of him like the first time, he knew it was his turn. Nervousness stifling his movements, he climbed clumsily down, stopping every once in a while to reconsider. What if he offended you? He’d never forgive himself if his stupid requests drew you away once and for all. But temptation was gripping his heart hard, and he knew that he’d never know peace again if he didn’t at least try to get this one favor from you.

When he jumped down the last steps of the ladder, he didn’t find you in his cot. You stood in front of him, as if you’d been waiting. You didn’t push your pants down or move to kneel at the entrance of his bunk like you always did. You simply looked into his visor with a hesitant expression, waiting for him to make a move, for a change.

His voice was tight and unsteady when he finally said, “I want… Can—can I touch you?” He cleared his throat and couldn’t help the telling dip of his helmet as he absorbed your figure in front of him. “I mean really touch you. And…and see you. Please.”

Your shoulders slacked and you moved your head to the side in confusion, like you had been expecting literally anything else. And then, once you saw the way his helmet hung defeated and his hands were clasped in front of him, almost as if he were apologizing for asking, your face went back to its natural comprehensive expression. Except something else was growing in your eyes that made your pupils expand and darken.

“Yes,” you breathed out, with a begging tone that mimicked Mando’s own.

Mando’s lungs collapsed at your permission; he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding his breath. He looked around, trying to figure out a way to quickly engineer a surface comfortable enough for you, but you simply sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with inviting eyes that got his heart pounding a little faster. So he knelt down in front of you and unclasped his cloak to lay it in next to your legs. It wasn’t ideal nor how he’d imagined it—nothing about this situation was—but he was determined to make you feel as comfortable as he possibly could.

You clutched his pauldrons as leverage and shuffled on your knees to rest them on the worn fabric. You reached down with one hand to remove your shoes and socks, before trailing it upwards to your belly and grabbing the hem of your tunic. Mando quickly caught your wrist.

“Wait,” he asked, “let me.”

You simply bit your lower lip and nodded, and Mando liked the way your cheeks turned pink when his gloves grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Every new inch of your skin made it harder for him to keep his hands on the cloth instead of the soft flesh that he was seeing for the first time. When he got your tunic far up enough that it went past your breasts, he had to force himself to keep going, instead of immediately rolling the tips in his fingers. His already half-hard cock twitched at the thought.

By the time your head poked out of the tunic’s hole and he discarded it, his body was burning inside the armor. He trailed his gaze across every crevice of your upper body, stopping at some softer-looking spots he quickly decided were his favorite. You apparently noticed, because the blush on your face was darker than before and it spread to your chest. Mando found your pigmented skin endearing. Maker, after weeks of burying himself inside your most private places, how was it possible that this was the most intimate moment you two had ever shared? And why was he so much more fucking nervous right there than any of the other nights?

He reached his hands out slowly to unbuckle your belt, but looked up at you for permission first. Still biting your lip, you managed a small smile, but your teeth were digging deeper with anticipation that made the gentle expression falter. So he removed your belt and pushed down your pants, taking your underwear with them. You shuffled awkwardly on your knees to slide your them off your legs and would’ve toppled over if he hadn’t grabbed your arms and held you steady. You laughed nervously at your clumsiness and grabbed his arm for balance, as your other hand stretched behind you to pull the trousers off completely and throw them to the side.

The hand on his arm let go and your back straightened again. And there you were, bare in front of him as he’d asked, your skin covered in goosebumps from the cold air of the ship. Like staring into a mirage, he instinctively grabbed your wrist to make sure you wouldn’t evaporate in front of him. Stars, for all the hours he’d spent mentally sketching a picture of your nude body, he could never have expected this. Mando’s eyes traced the lines of your neck and dropped to a pair of smooth shoulders that he would’ve paid good money to lick. Your heaving chest caught his eye, and he went dizzy with the way your nipples hardened under the attention. He skimmed lower to your belly, and would’ve gladly stayed there if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of something glistening between your thighs. His breath audibly hitched at the modulator when he recognized the clear slick of your arousal.

Once you understood what the visor was directed at, your shoulders hunched and you shuffled uncomfortably in your place. The movement snapped him out of his trance.

It was Din Djarin who stared straight into your eyes when he finally said with a disbelieving, low voice, “I’m sorry, it’s just…You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled fully for him then, your lips plump with arousal and your body arching towards him more confidently to try to coax him to reach out.

“Please,” you pleaded in a raspy tone he’d never heard before, “touch me like you wanted.”

That was all Din needed. His hands approached your body, before he reconsidered and took the gloves off first. Fuck, where to begin? He wanted to feel everything at once, brush his fingertips down your neck and grab your thighs hard and press a hand into your belly. He wanted to grasp your round tits and trace a finger down your spine to make you shiver. Most of all, he wanted to sink his digits into your wet heat and feel you squirm over them.

He settled his hands on your shoulders instead, like you’d done moments ago. The bare-skinned contact made you both tense, until he started caressing up and down your arms to try to relax you. You let out a shaky breath as his calloused hands tickled your skin with a feather light touch.

“It’s smooth,” he mumbled, “your skin. I—I didn’t know.” The helmet was trained on your chest, though, and his hands followed, two large palms settling just above your breasts. Din felt your heart beating faster and faster against his palm to the beat of his own unstable huffs that he knew you could hear. He glided his hands lower, grasping your tits with a strength that painted a stark contrast to his previous, careful fondles. The sensation worked a gasp out of you that pierced beskar and cloth and went straight to his cock. Encouraged, he kneaded the fat and pinched your pebbly peaks, earning him another, louder whimper.

Fuck, why did it feel that good? Din could already feel his array of problems slipping further and further away at the sensation of your hot skin against his, not to mention the sight of your mouth gaping and your half-hooded eyes. A scent he already knew well crept into his nostrils and settled on his lower half, reminding him of the growing lubrication between your legs.

He traded your breasts for the curve of your ass and, when he squeezed, he pulled you closer to him, your chest hitting the cool surface of his armor. You yelped at the cold contact, but the surprise turned into pleasure when he started grabbing handfuls of you to press your body tighter against his. His fingers slipped down to the backs of your thighs and sunk on the pillowy flesh between them, making you buckle forward as a reflex and wrap your arms around his neck. The flesh underneath his palm was soaked and boiling, but it wasn’t until he parted your thighs and shoved his metal cuisse between them that he thought you were working up a fever.

Before he could give you any instruction, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and started rubbing your core on his cuisse. It was an awkward angle that only offered so much friction, but the way you moaned for him sounded like it the sensation was melting you. Every desperate little noise was absorbed by his pores and climbed to his head, making him drunk with the knowledge that he could do this to you.

He needed more.

“Lay back.” He placed his hands on your hips to stop your grinding. You threw your head back to look into the dark visor, flushed and confused.

“But—” you started, before Din placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you with his other one onto the worn cloak. You relented and laid on the floor panting, watching him through long lashes and pressing your legs tightly. Towering over you on his knees, Din grabbed the tops of each thigh and massaged them carefully, both to coax them open and to continue reveling on how your body pulsed alive under his touch. You were writhing and moaning under him, too busy rubbing your legs together to ease some of the throbbing between them to understand what he wanted from you. As much as he enjoyed watching you completely exposed, desperately trying to pleasure yourself, he needed to see. He needed you open to finally take a look at the heat where he’d been losing himself for weeks.

Din pinned down your ankles to the floor and looked straight to your face.

“Please, just—just let me see.” He slowly slid your feet towards you, making your knees flex and your legs bend. Back to reality, you swallowed hard and nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to see exactly what he’d do.

Din pushed your ankles to the sides, revealing little by little a blushed, pulsating cunt. He only stopped once your legs couldn’t open any wider. Your outer lips were plump and swollen, while your inner folds glistened wet and pink under the artificial light of the ship. Your clit was sticking out completely, imploring to be touched. Din felt something stab his chest. He held his breath and felt his member grow fully erect at the erotic sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, “f-fuck, is this what I’ve been missing?” He placed his palms on your inner thighs, where he could feel the warmth radiating from your cunt. “Huh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your legs a little wider. “You never touched me,” you whispered, “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Maker.” Din’s gaze was trained on your pussy, unblinking. “It’s the only thing I’ve wanted.” When glossy arousal oozed out of you at his admission and pooled on his cloak, Din felt his mouth salivate. He ran his tongue over his lips.

“Then do it.” You sounded desperate now.

Din watched you intently—searching for a reaction—when the index and middle finger of his right hand made a V shape over your outer lips, before pressing hard against them. It was difficult for him to decide whether to focus on how your head dropped on the ground and your breath hitched, or how your inner lips spilled outside around his digits and your lower muscles hardened under his touch. The pressure made more of your arousal seep and coat his fingers, as he worked them back and forth over the outside of your core. He knew he was leaking precum but couldn’t bring himself to remove his right hand from your cunt nor his left from your thigh, so he simply pressed his legs together, hoping the sight of you wouldn’t be enough to make him cum.

You were pushing against his fingers, silently asking for more, and Din was happy to comply. He removed his middle finger as his index brushed your soaked slit from the bottom to the top, stopping right below your clit. Exasperated, you slapped your palms over your eyes.

“Mando, please,” you whined, “do something. You can’t just—” Your own moan cut you off when he brought down his left hand to pull your inner lips open and gather some more moisture. Fuck, he had a clear view inside you. He could see your innermost walls drowning in their own juices turn a dark pink, almost purple. He used both hands to open you further. Deep inside you, your tight hole clenched around nothing, spitting out more and more fluids.

Stars, Din didn’t know anyone could get this wet, not even when he used to mindlessly fuck you. His hands were drenched already, but, greedily, he still gathered more slickness and rubbed it on his finger, across his knuckles. He wanted it everywhere. He scooped more and smeared it all over your folds and inner thighs, still avoiding your bundle of nerves. Fascinated by your body and trying to ignore how his cock strained against his pants, he lifted his hands to coat your tits with your own cum.

You were almost crying beneath him, but you seized your opportunity when you felt his wet hands against your chest. Suddenly, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it down, pressing the heel of his hand against your neglected clit. Your eyes closed as a broken sob of relief escaped your throat. You moved your hips against it, using his body for your pleasure as he’d done so many times with yours. Din was delighted.

“Been so good to me for so long,” he muttered, as his other hand creeped stealthily back towards your slit. “I want to pay you back.” The primal sound that left you when he sunk two fingers inside your snug hole made his cock jump and get itself a little wetter than before. He willed himself to ignore it and focus his attention on the long fingers inside you. He pushed them as far as they’d go and them some more, while you were still grinding against his palm.

Din was sure he was going to black out from lust when you started moving faster and his fingers curled into something that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You were breathing quickly, high little mewls leaving your lips as you clenched tighter and tighter around him. His torso leaned down to see how he was stretching you open.

“B-but I liked it,” you blurted all of a sudden, catching your companion by surprise, “I like it when you f-fuck me—” you groaned when he couldn’t help himself and added another finger, “—when you fuck me angry. When you—when you take it out on me.”

Din didn’t answer. He couldn’t when your words sank deep into his stomach and braided his insides. He only moved his fingers faster and deeper, letting your walls distract him—once again—from the difficulties of his turbulent life, as you pulled tighter around him.

Tighter—tighter—tighter—and—

Din was sure it was your own orgasm transferring over to him when you came undone with a loud cry. He didn’t stop moving his hands into you as spasms took over your body, but he felt his own organs contract and release waves of pleasure into every corner of his ragged body. It was only after you stopped shaking and he took his creamy hands away from you that he noticed a dark, moist patch on the crotch of his pants. You noticed it too, and managed a brief, breathy laugh before falling back on the floor, pulling the cloak to cover you and closing your eyes.

Din slapped your leg gently to stop you from falling asleep before standing up.

“We’re not done yet,” he told you plainly, as you stared at him with confused, tired eyes. “I haven’t tasted you.”

He clicked a few buttons on his arm, and the hull became pitch black.

–––––

Edit: Part II here

@artaxerxesthegreat

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #star wars #star wars smut #the mandalorian x ofc #din djarin x oc

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ickymichi · 3 years

Text

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

a tendou satori x reader series.

✟ there’s always been the one rule every person who’s been in a band knows not to break, never mess around with your band mates. but Satori was sick of the groupies, sick of catching the bra’s and panties that were flung at him every night. he just wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.

✟ warnings: swearing, eventual smut, eventual angst(?), drug use, inappropriate themes, comedy.

✟ things to know: band au!, some timeskip careers mentioned, slow updates.

✟ if you’d like to be added to the taglist just send an ask! <3

✟ word count: 1.8k

✟ note: first actual chapter of this series! it’s nothing big but obviously i wanted to get something written for this series! but i hope you enjoy my dears! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

all contents belongs to k1ttykawa 2021. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.

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.:masterlist:.

𝟎𝟎𝟐:. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

The bright lights and screams from the small crowd in the underground venue was what brings you back down from the high you’re always on whenever you sit on the small bouncing stool behind the drum set on stages every second or third night. You heard Semi thanking everyone for coming and whatever shit he always says. Once you seen him bow and Tendou go to pick up the collection of bra’s and panties thrown on stage, you raised a hand and threw one of the drumsticks into the crowd, your own way of saying goodbye before making your way offstage. Semi and Tendou’s tall frames following behind, the same order as always.

The sweat was pouring out of you, tonight being more of a wilder one than the usual calm sets you’ve been having in bars or party’s recently. they were easy money, but they got boring after just a few hours. so all three of you were in desperate need of a night like tonight.

Turning the corner of the small, dark corridor to your dressing room for tonight you were met with the stench of weed, 3 different girls on the beat up leather couch, a rolled joint in one of the girls hands and white lines on a tray to the others left. Like always, you went straight to the showers to get the scent of sweat and fake smoke of you.

You really don’t know when but the cropped black tank top you had on was ripped down one side but your usual headband you sported every show was missing and it now became you new priority to track it down. “Satori! Where the fuck is my headband?” you stomped back out to see the wanted man desperately trying to pull the tight leather pants down his lanky legs. His head was whipped up to at the sound of your annoyed voice and then quickly darted his eyes over to the blonde that had previously rolled the joints and was now fawning over semi and his revealed tattoos. “oi” was all you muttered out behind her and holding out your empty hand—also noting some of your rings were gone. She turned her head to you with a scowl covering her features, which also revealed your missing accessory that caused your distress. “that’s her bandana and she’s quite obviously looking for it back,” Tendou quipped in making every one bar the girl laugh. After time, she untied it from the back and forcefully placed it back in your hand. Dramatically you held your arm, acting as if she pained you, tendou again laughing with you.

Finally you were able to hop into the shower and quickly get your self freshened and rub the accesses makeup off your eyes that was already smudged from your constant wiping, trying to stop the sweat dripping from your hairline.

“(y/n)!! please help me out of these, semisemi just keeps fucking laughing!” the peace and quiet you had was quickly interrupted by Tendou’s loud whining. “how the fuck am I not supposed to laugh when your walking around with them swinging around your ankles and your dick hanging out?” “what, Its out?!”

The large door separating the bathroom from the connected dressing room swung open and revealed Satori with his leathers pooled at his ankles and— surprising his dick not actually ‘hanging out’. “please help me sugartits, they’re fucking stuck even with my skinny ankles,” he hopped onto the counter and held his legs up for you to guide them off him. “well for starters, take your fucking shoes off!, and also I swear i saw these in the women’s section of some online store?” jokingly you shouted at him and moved to untie the doc martin’s around his feet. “yeah? You probably did, stole them from that chick that wouldn’t stop hanging off me last month,” both of you laughing at his silliness and falling into a comfortable silence.

The only noise was the voices off the others in the separate room and a recognisable Mötley Crüe song shaking the floor from the stage.

“what you think of tonight then?” the silence being broken by Satori like usual. “uhhh, it was definitely something but yeah, it was fun. Its nice to have a night like that every now and then, specially since we’ve just been in bars doing the same covers for the past two weeks. What about you huh?” he hummed, a noise of agreement showing he was listening, a habit you grew to learn. “I guess it was good fun yeah, although I didn’t appreciate nearly getting hit with a dildo within the first two songs. But I agree, it’s nice to do our own shit and not covers in a bar with a bunch of middle age boring shits. I think we’ve another show that’ll probably be like this again on Saturday.”

Saturday, today was Thursday so you’ve a nice day or two to just lie around, the other probably filled with travelling and setting up.

After about 10 minutes you had unlaced both his boots and chucked them onto the floor and not too long later his ‘borrowed’ pants joined them. “thanks chicken, lifesaver as always,” he pulled you into an embrace with one arm before leaving to find his spare clothes in the other room. He did always have the weirdest nicknames.

The night bled into the early hours of the morning, Semi and Tendou both getting their share of the girls there while you kicked your feet up, sparking up a conversation and passing the joints with your friend Taichi who was also your ‘manager’, he wasn’t really he just acted like it when venues would ask important questions and tagged along for the free show and nights at different clubs.

He was also the one who suggested you start moving to the motel down the street for the night before the venue boots you all out. Quickly you agreed, not fancying seeing any more glimpses of your friends and strangers body parts. Obviously the girls whined to the boys, asking if they could come, saying it’s dangerous for girls to walk home alone at night, “sorry ladies, but we’ll be sharing a bed tonight and I don’t fancy getting an unwanted facial on a Thursday night,” you butted into their persuasive conversation by wrapping an arm around the boys from the back of the couch and giving a friendly smile.

By the time you all got your equipment packed away and into the van it was nearing 4:30 in the morning and you, quite literally we’re going to fall into the bed. It wasn’t the nicest of places but you were just spending tonight and the next two there, unless you decided to go out after the shows and find some rando’s condo to spend the night in. All three of you pushed your way into the small room trying to get the edges of the double bed. And it wasn’t easy trying to squeeze through two 6’2 lean men, resulting in you again stuck in the middle of them staring at the blank roof, desperately waiting for the sun to rise so you could find some place to get food and away from the mess of limbs under the covers.

When you did wake up it felt like you’d only slept for two hours, when in reality it had been about 10. The afternoon sun melting through the old curtains and falling into your pillow. As you moved to see what had finally woke you from the deep sleep you saw Semi at the small table, his guitar resting on his knees and his worn, nimble fingers scribbling words on his notebook he kept for when lyrics would come to him.

“mornin’ early bird,” all you could let out was a groan, your mind still coming to its senses. “there’s food n’ shit there Satori went out to get it, we was the first up, surprisingly,” he breathed out the last remark before moving to pick up the red pencil and get back to writing lyrics before they left his head.

The food that Tendou got was still warm so he must’ve of been up long before you anyway. “where is he?” “beats me, probably wandering round like always,” quickly he responded and took the pic from between his teeth and started strumming a tune while humming, what you were guessing, was the lyrics on the page.

Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you pulled your phone from where it was connected to the wall by the charger and found Satori’s contact and pressed the call icon, moving away from the sound of Eita and his guitar you went to go outside and sit on the bench outside your rooms window.

“hello, hello,” his ever cheerful voice filled the speakers of your phone that was wedged between your shoulder and ear. “hey, I was just calling to see where you are that’s all,” you piped up when he went quiet, tutting when you realised you were out of cigarettes. “oh you know, just out sightseeing ‘tis all,” “cool cool, well i’m going to the store now you need anything?” he hummed into the phone, indicating that he was thinking of something he needed. “just cigs I guess and get me that drink I like while there, i’ll pay you later,” bidding him goodbye as the small shop on the corner came into view you slipped your phone into your sweatpants pocket and walked to the back where they kept the energy drinks.

Exiting the shop with everything you needed you walked to make your way back till you saw a familiar head of red locks across the street and quickly, but quietly made your way to his figure.

Sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his ribs press into your arms, something you’ve noted recently. He sucked air into his lungs and jumped slightly before laughing with you. “here you go your highness,” was how you greeted him and chucked him his requested items. “thanks muffincake, i’ll pay you back later I swear,” you scoffed and shook his offer off, suggesting you stroll around the city until Semi called either of you to ‘get your sorry asses back to the room’.

Your stroll progressed into a very long walk and by the time Satori suggested you head back with an arm around your shoulder it was already dark, the night life staring to come out of hiding. eyeing a club across the street you thought might be a good shout to visit in case you three got bored tonight, making a mental note of its location.

“Didn’t Semisemi say we need to go over the set list again cause, someone, messed up last night,” a sing-song voice dragged you out of your club browsing and brought a scowl to your face. “excuse me, you’re the one who told me we were doing ‘nasty’ after the interlude, prick,” he pulled his chin up and started to ‘think’ about your accusation before loudly dubbing it false; “nope, I don’t recall doing such a thing. I could never, but if it boots your already sky high ego then, of course I did my dearest apologies baby cakes,” “do you ever shut up,” “when i’m face first in pus-” “Don’t even!”

t a g l i s t: @evan-rose @elianetsantana @weebintheinternet @kuroos-roosterhead

please lmk if i missed you if your not there! <3

#🎸.my band #🤍.satori #tendou fic #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou headcanon #tendou smut #tendou x y/n #haikyuu tendou

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kuiinncedes · 3 years

Text

just the keys to paradise

jatp au - prologue - part 1/15? - 1834 words

relationships: blaine & sam & tina & artie

okkkk we're doing it 🤪 idk how regularly i will update this (omg ongoing fic??? who is she) but i do have like technically a ~few~ chapters i guess done,,, and i am working on the next so . we're gonna try this lol

anyway if it wasn't clear this is an au based on the most amazing tv show ever with only 9 episodes pls watch or rewatch it on netflix the emmy-award winning julie and the phantoms !!! 🤪

that being said if you haven't watched it what are you doing jk i think you can still read this and hopefully it makes sense 😂 feel free to ask me if there's anything that doesn't make sense lol :)

also fyi in case it influences your decision to read: this will be more focused on platonic relationships for a while but will almost certainly have main endgames klaine, quinntina, and samcedes 😋

prologue title and lyrics in this part from "now or never" from the jatp soundtrack

plot and some dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this part: car accident, major character deaths (both of these are not actually in writing/"on screen" just implied at the end (especially within the context of this being a jatp au) and nothing really described -- if you want/need more details feel free to ask me)

read on ao3 or under the cut :D

1995

“Dudes, we fucking killed that !” Sam cheers when the smoke has cleared, going around and giving each of them something that could be called a high-five, just not to their hands. Tina laughs and cheers too as Sam excitedly taps her feet after she gets out from behind her kit, still elevated on the drum stage. Some of the workers applaud them from the audience space.

“Too bad we wasted that on the soundcheck,” Artie jokes, putting his guitar down and grabbing his water bottle. “That was the tightest we’ve ever played, yo!”

Tina grins and hops down from the drum platform. Sam slings an arm around her shoulders and she grabs his wrist. They’re both sweaty and too warm but she doesn’t mind having Sam’s heat pressed against her right side.

God, she thinks… that really was something else, even though it was just the soundcheck. She looks around at her bandmates’ faces -- shiny with sweat, red with exhilaration and exertion, bright with elation, eyes wide with excitement and --

Wow. They’re playing the Orpheum.

Blaine pats Artie on the back, jostling him enough to spill the water he’s trying to drink down the front of his shirt, but Artie just laughs -- he’s soaked with sweat anyway. They have spare clothes backstage just for this reason.

“Just wait until tonight, guys, when this place is packed with record execs,” Blaine says, looking out wonderingly into the empty (for now) audience. His grin widens almost imperceptibly, which is impressive considering how huge it already is.

“We’re gonna be legends!” the other three of them chorus, before Blaine can, and they laugh when he turns to them, affronted. “That’s my line!”

“It’s what you get for saying it ten times a day for the last month!” Tina teases. Blaine pushes her shoulder playfully, putting his hand within reach for Sam to grab. It’s a strange position considering Sam’s arm is still around Tina’s shoulders, but Tina adds her hand to their hold as Sam beckons Artie over from his side of the stage, barking out his name with joking anger.

Artie puts his water down and walks over to complete the group, placing his hand on top of Tina’s. “Tina, you were smokin’,” he says.

She rolls her eyes a little and grins back. “Pretty sure you’re just talking about the pyro. You guys were the ones on fire,” she says, pointing her drumsticks around at them.

“T, can you just own your awesomeness for once?” Blaine exclaims.

“Queen T!” Sam calls, pulling her closer into his side. She stumbles into him, laughing as the guys all start cheering it after Sam.

“Okay, okay! Thanks, guys, I got it!” she squeals, trying to get them to quiet down although -- they are in the Orpheum, where they’re playing later, it’s not like they have to be quiet -- while Sam leans his weight on her, causing them to stagger into the drum riser. Tina catches herself on it and Sam finally detaches from her and they’re still being loud and raucous and probably somewhat annoying to the staff, but she’s just laughing too hard to care.

“We’ve got an hour ‘til the show; I say we go celebrate before we become legends!” Blaine proclaims, jumping off the stage. The other three follow.

Tina starts, “Celebrate our last night of being -- ”

“Losers?” Artie interjects.

They’ve caught the attention of one of the Orpheum workers -- a woman with brown hair who’s wiping down the tables, smiling at them as Tina catches her eye. “There’s some nice restaurants around here,” she says with a wink. “You guys really killed it, by the way. But it seems like you know that.”

Blaine laughs, a little sheepishly. “Thanks. Uh, I’m Blaine,” he says. “This is -- ”

“Sam, hi!”

“Tina, how’s it going -- ”

“Artie, hey.”

Tina raises her eyebrows and stifles a laugh at Artie as he leans his sweaty arms onto the table that the woman just cleaned.

“We’re Sunset Curve!” Blaine says to complete their introduction.

“Tell your friends!” Sam calls, raising his voice and drawing the other workers’ attention to them. Tina elbows him lightly in the side.

“Nice to meet you,” the stranger says. “I’m Elle. So… what were you guys thinking for this -- what was it -- ‘celebration of your last night as losers’?”

“Well, we really can’t afford any nice places -- ” Sam starts.

“Oh, you know what? We should just go to Tip Top!” Blaine says, clapping his hands together. The others are quick to agree -- it’s the small, cheap diner where they spent the evening after their first “real” gig, and they’ve spent countless hours there since, annoying the staff and depleting their supply of plastic silverware. The employees there have learned to let them take what they legally can (and sometimes what they couldn’t), and the band is friendly with most of them. They haven’t been there in too long, having been working hard to get the Orpheum gig, and then writing and rehearsing like crazy once they got it.

Elle smiles as they excitedly and loudly recount stories of Tip Top to each other -- sentimental memories and the ridiculousness they got up to -- talking over each other and having multiple conversations at once.

“I guess you don’t need my recommendations?” she says lightly.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, we’re good, thanks so much for offering,” Blaine answers, polite as ever.

“Have fun! Looking forward to seeing you guys perform again tonight.”

“Thank you!” the four of them exclaim as they make their way back to the exit. Tina yanks on the back of Artie’s shirt as he lingers at the table, a dumb look on his face that tells her he’s trying to flirt, or at least, his version of it.

“Tina!” Artie yelps and she laughs at the annoyed look on his face.

“You are not exempt from this last night of loser-dom celebration. You’re telling me you’d rather flirt with a girl than this?”

“Yes,” Artie grumbles. There’s no heat behind it, and Tina playfully pushes him sideways.

“Plus, we need you to drive.”

“You can drive!”

“Technically we all can drive!” Tina laughs at Artie’s horrified expression, probably at the prospect -- and memory -- of the one time Blaine drove them to a gig. “Just not your car!” she calls, jogging to catch up with Blaine and Sam, Artie running after her. “Your car is the fucking worst.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Blaine and Sam agree!”

That gets their attention and the two guys turn, Blaine asking, “What are we agreeing with?”

“I agree with Tina,” Sam says immediately. Tina nods gratefully at him.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about!” Artie complains.

They’re at his beat-up car now and they pile in, Tina in the passenger seat laughing as Sam all but tackles Blaine into the backseat when he starts for the driver’s side, jostling her and Artie in the front. They continue shuffling around while Artie attempts to start the car, to many concerning -- but normal for his car -- noises.

“This thing is gonna go down and take us with it, Artie,” Tina mumbles teasingly, absentmindedly twirling a drumstick in her right hand. (She realizes too late that she probably should’ve left them at the Orpheum, but it’s not a big deal -- they’re not her favorite pair which are safe in their studio and she has extras backstage in case something happens to this pair while they’re out.)

The car finally starts with a rumble and Artie lets out a cheer. “We’re fine, T. Let’s go, y’all!”

“Floor it, Artie!” Sam calls from the back. The car accelerates comically slowly even as Artie presumably “floors it,” but they’re going somewhere.

After a few minutes, Tina finds herself unconsciously humming her solo in the bridge of “Now or Never,” only noticing when Sam interjects suddenly with his “Tomorrow!” leaning between the front seats and slightly startling her. She laughs and continues with the words, “‘Cause we got all we need today! ”

“Today!” Artie echoes, miming his guitar playing with one hand on the steering wheel.

“Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins!” Blaine sings loudly, joining Sam in crowding into the front of the car.

“We’re the revolution that’s been singing in the rain!” It’s Sam’s line, but they all belt it at the top of their lungs together.

“That’s my line!” Sam exclaims at the same time that Blaine cheers, “My favorite line!” Tina continues to clap the beat for the next part of the song, Artie hitting the steering wheel in rhythm with her. Her face hurts from smiling.

“Artie, dude, where’d you go?” Blaine asks suddenly. Tina looks around at their slowly darkening surroundings that are completely unfamiliar. Slight panic rises in her stomach but she swallows it down; she’s with her boys, they’re safe, just a little lost.

Sam bursts out in uproarious laughter as Artie complains, “You guys distracted me!”

“Told you I should’ve driven!” Blaine says. He leans forward again and Sam follows. Tina stays quiet, pressing herself against the door a little to make room; her boys aren’t that much better but she’s always been completely hopeless with navigation and directions.

“You would’ve gotten even more distracted from singing and veered us right into a fucking building,” Artie grumbles, but he obeys as Blaine directs him to turn left and chooses to ignore his comment.

“Safe driving, am I right, dudes?” Sam cackles as he returns to the backseat, and Tina can’t help but laugh with him. “We’re gonna miss our gig, that’s how we’ll be legends!”

“‘Sunset Curve Skips Orpheum Showcase For No Reason’?” Tina suggests, turning around in her seat to face Sam.

He points at her. “Exactly. Or, 'Sunset Curve Skips Orpheum Showcase Because They Don't Know How To Drive.' The end of a promising career,” he jokes somberly. “No one would ever book them again.”

They fall silent and only the mutters of Blaine and Artie fill the car, along with the loud engine.

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” Sam groans loudly, laying on his back across the backseats as Blaine is leaning awkwardly out of his seat to help Artie navigate.

“Not like you’re helping!” Artie says.

“That’s the street!” Blaine exclaims, pointing ahead. “The next intersection.”

“Give it up for Mr. Blaine Anderson, everyone,” Artie drawls, speeding up the car a little bit. “Perhaps not able to drive, but navigator extraordinaire.”

“You chose the wrong career path, dude,” Sam says, propping himself up on one elbow to clap Blaine’s shoulder. “Like, songwriting?”

Blaine looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. “Songwriting?” He gestures for Sam to continue.

Sam shrugs, sitting up finally. “Just, you know, songwriting, bro…" His gaze suddenly shifts and fixes at a point beyond Tina. "What th-- that car Artie!”

Tina snaps her gaze away from Sam just in time to see him yank Blaine down into his seat and the set of blinding headlights through the car windows in her periphery.

---

as a final note, i'm not sure if it can be seen this way but i'm not trying to erase artie's disability or anything and i believe i'm not doing that; as you might be able to guess, the car accident at the end of this is what paralyzes him, like in glee canon but just several years later (in his life not in actual time). please let me know if any aspect of this is disrespectful or anything <3

#i guess the warnings do kinda spoil it but it is the main point of the show lol #bye i'm stressed alksdhfgkajdhkkdsjf #kurt and the phantoms #i'm making a fucking tag for this yeahhh #will probably go back and tag some things where i shared lines or whatever lol bc i couldn't shut up about this 😂#this will be following the songs on the soundtrack... all of them not just the ones that are episode titles 👀#i'm really excited i love my ideas aksdghdfjkghlsdfjghkasdjf #so i hope i can do them well haha and i hope posting will help me keep motivated #but also i'm just really excited about it and want to share #and kinda reminding myself how i'm fine with wips being not updated for a long time or abandoned like it's not too big of a deal #so if that happens with this the person i'll be disappointing most is myself 😂#omg now or never came on shuffle while i'm putting it on ao3 a sure sign i should post lmao #what the fuck is ao3 doing putting spaces after italicized words excuse me???? kldhgklsdjfgh #AHHHH ok shit here we go????#dude editing this took way too long and it was just removing fucking spaces before and after italicized words after copying and pasting #from docs to ao3 and then from ao3 to tumblr???? why ??????#so i have forgotten anything else i wanted to say lol i will also put other tags in a second #ahhhjkdgfhkjlsdfgkahd;lkjadfghsdljighaksfd #glee #glee fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #blaine anderson #tina cohen chang #sam evans #artie abrams #glee fanfiction #my ficsssss #ALSO this is why i've been on some blamtina bullshit lately lol 🤪 we got some blamtina comingggggg #and kurt of course ahhhh :DDD

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realcube · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu Boys when you stand up for them

Tsukishima x Reader

Yamaguchi x Reader

Nishinoya x Reader

tw// bullying/teasing, a bit of violence, angst (?), cussing

Kei Tsukishima

the ladies love this man so it definitely wasn’t them that were picking on him

rather, it was the group of jealous boys that sit next to you in class that were whispering mean things about him, thinking that Tsukki couldn’t hear them

and this man may have extremely poor vision but he has superior hearing tbh

so obviously he heard what they were saying about him

and while Tsukishima played it off well with his tough exterior, you could tell the comments were getting to him

because rather than turning around and roasting the hell out of each boy individually, he just tried to tune it out by putting his headphones over his ears

at first, you didn’t really care to do anything because you just thought this would be an awkward one-time thing that Tsuki would forget about within a few days

however, the boys kept persistently acting like fools for days

although it annoyed you that Tsukishima was taking his insecurities out on you - the things that the boys would whisper to each other were even more enraging

one day, during lunch, one of the boys made a comment about Tsuki’s weight that just provoked you to the point that you just let your body’s natural impulses take over

so now you were in the ER with a broken knuckle and a broken nose since the boy decided to let his natural impulses take over too so he punched you square in the face

Once the nurse finished wrapping your knuckles in a bandage, she rushed out of the room - leaving you alone with none other than Kei Tsukishima.

He just sat there looking at you with a freakishly large grin on his face as he desperately tried to hold back his cackles of laughter.

“You are so stupid.” he chuckled.

“THEY WERE BEING SO MEAN TO YOU!”

“I literally didn’t care.” Lies.

“Really? Then why were you being such a big baby about it? You wouldn’t even talk to your own girlfriend.” You stuck out your bottom lip, fully aware that perhaps you may have overreacted slightly but still..it made complete sense in the moment, y’know?

“So I ignored you a bit and you deadass went, ‘lemme assault someone then’.” he rolled his eyes, getting up from the uncomfortable hospital chair that he’s been sitting in for the last hour or so.

“Eh, I did the whole school a favour! We all hated him anyway.” You tutted, pulling you knees up to your chest before sighing, “I’m sorry.” You mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “I mean it, I fe-”

Tsukishima scoffed, taking a seat down beside you and pulling you into his chest by your shoulder, “Oh, stop, you’re making me cringe.” he rolled his eyes, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Thanks’ I guess.”

Tadashi Yamaguchi

you, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were having lunch together when the subject of how Tsukishima and Yamaguchi became friends came into the conversation

that was when Yamaguchi was kinda forced into telling you about how he was bullied in school

after that, if anyone (including Tsukishima) tried to tease Yamaguchi you would be 👏on 👏their 👏 ass

Flashback to that time the girl that sat behind you called Yamaguchi’s cut lil antenna ‘weird’

and you almost had a cardiac arrest

“TAKE THAT BACK!”

Also flashback to that time Tsukishima jokingly called Yamaguchi ‘stupid’ because he forgot what 6*7 was

and you delivered that dinosaur lookin ass man a hand sandwich to the arm

(tsukki said he didn’t even feel it though smh)

anyway, Yamaguchi thinks you are so damn adorable when you do that because you deadass think you are intimidating but you are really not so..no harm done lol

Yu Nishinoya

noya is cool so the boys don’t make fun of him for being small because they are above that

(literally)

but the girls are not quite over the ‘smol boi’ jokes just yet

however, you didn’t learn that until recently while your friend group of all girls are talking about boys

obviously they didn’t know that you and Noya were dating because after the topic swerved off of Terushima

(eventually)

one of your girl friends mentioned Noya, saying the following;

“He is such a hottie, I’d definitely be all over him if he wasn’t so..y’know..short.”

When I tell you your blood was BOILING

not so much about this girl calling your boyfrind a ‘hottie’

i mean, you understand that part but she had the audacity to call him small as a INSULT

HE IS TRAVEL SIZED AND THAT IS PART OF HIS CHARM

if she would’ve worded it like “yeah, Noya is really cute and such a cutie pie and DEFENITELY NOT A MIDGET.”

but no..she just had to be a bitch about it

anyway, THE RAGE IT BROUGHT YOU

HER HEAD WAS THE BALL AND YOU WERE USHIWAKA THUWAK

you could’ve sworn that you saw a few of her brain cells few out in the process

“And she was all like ‘smack my head like a drum’ so I did.” You recalled the story, retelling from your POV to Nishinoya

“Did she actually say that?” Noya cocked his head to the side.

“No..but she did- in my mind.”

Noya nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. “I can’t believe she said that.” he pouted, “What a bitch.”

“I know.”

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#tsukishima kei #hq nishinoya #nishinoya headcanons #yuu nishinoya #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #hq yamaguchi #kei tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima headcanons #hq tsukki #hq tsukishima #hq headcanons

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practice-is-praxis · 3 years

Text

Magick Basicks and Evolving a Psychochosm.

Core Elements of Magick

1. Intention

Most acts of Magick begin with the Statement of Intent. This is a simple declaration of what one is about to do, and for what final purpose. Since vague intentions tend to give rise to, at best, vague results, the magician should formulate a Statement of Intent which is as precise as possible, without becoming overly verbose. It is often good to write the Statement of Intent as if it has already happened, rather than what you want to happen, or what will happen. I.E. “I am powerful and grow more powerful every day”, rather than “I want to be powerful and grow more powerful every day.”

This can be attributed to the idea that you are casting a spell to “want” the things you want, the moment you “want” them in that way, and the result you get is “wanting” the result more, rather than getting the result. 2. Probability Pathways Contrary to popular opinion, magickal results do not pop up out of thin air, and it does help enormously, with magickal workings, if there is a pathway along which the desired result can manifest. This can also be examined in terms of probabilities.

A magician who performs a ritual to ensure that they pass an exam, but does no revision or cramming, is not creating a situation where there is a reasonable probability that they will pass with flying colors. If, however, they do study, the probability of success is likely to be higher. Magick does seem to achieve the best results when the probability factor is at least fractionally higher than zero. To take another example, when planning workings for financial gain, it is useful to have a number of projects on the go, any of which may result in increased funds--hence the magickal working is more likely to yield some kind of positive result. 3. Timing

Timing is an important yet often underrated factor in practical magick. A good example of how timing can critically affect the outcome of a working, is that of Healing. If a client has a long-term, progressive disease, then magickal workings to impede its progress may be more successful at an early, rather than a late stage, in the course of the illness.

Complex life situations can be examined for the purposes of Magick as unfolding event series. In the early stages of a developing situation, there may be more fluidity and flexibility than at a later stage where it is less easy to influence probable outcomes. Events which can be perceived are macroscopic changes which have been brought about by the unseen interaction of microscopic fluctuations. In other words, an avalanche can be seen, but not the very small factors which brought it about. Developing strategies that allow the identification of small changes, and then influencing them so that they lead to a change which fulfills the conditions of one's statement of intent, can therefore be useful for Sorcery working. In other words, learn to 'nudge' a situation at the right moment. Paying close attention to what is happening in a given situation is useful, and using Divination systems can also help here. Magickal Operations - Basic Procedure

Once a Statement of Intent has been formulated, and any other relevant factors taken into account, the next general step in any magickal operation is to move into a “Free Area”.

In orthodox magickal systems, this tends to involve ritual procedures for setting up a magickal Circle, making any psychological adjustments for magickal work, or assuming particular postures.

From a Chaos perspective, a Free Area is any space which has been redefined as a zone where normal Consensus Reality is suspended, and Magickal Reality is operant. Thus a Free Area may refer to a previously-prepared Temple, a space in which ritual is to be performed, or a state of Consciousness.

Within the Free Area, the magician uses any preferred technique/trick deemed appropriate to clear their awareness of anything but the impending magickal act. This can range from full ritual procedures (performing a Banishing ritual, setting up an altar, etc.,) to merely closing one's eyes and concentrating.

The techniques used to define a Free Area often depend upon: i) Circumstances

ii) Available Time

iii) Necessity

iv) Individual Preference Following the definition of, and entry into the Free Area, the next stage is to move towards a state of consciousness known in the Chaos approach as Gnosis. Gnosis is a condition of one-pointed consciousness wherein awareness is emptied of all save the object of concentration; where will is given both intentionality and vector.

The main routes to Gnosis are threefold: Excitatory-anything which stimulates the Body-Mind, such as dancing, drumming, hyperventilation or sexual arousal; Inhibitory-anything which stills the Body-Mind, such as passive meditation, slow chanting, hypnotic agents, or slow breathing; and Indifferent Vacuity-a state of no-mind, or Non-Disinterest, where the object of desire flickers briefly in a mind emptied of all content-no emotional attachment to the desire.

Upon entering the peak of Gnosis, the desire in its chosen representative form (a sigil, for example) is projected forth, towards its target or into the void of the multiverse. It is then banished from awareness, that is to say, forgotten.

Following projection of the desire, the Free Area is closed using any preferred method, such as manic laughter, a Banishing Ritual, or a hand gesture. The Magician then moves onward, having set up the conditions whereby their desire will manifest accordingly.

It should be noted that a key to magick is that, on completion of a working, it should be considered-at least on a magickal level-to be finished with, and nothing more in the way of magickal work needs to be done.

The deep certainty that one's magick will yield the desired result will only come through continued practice, effort, and refinement of technique, but it is not unusual for advanced practitioners to claim a success rate with this kind of magick of around 80-90%. The above description of General Magickal Procedure could be used to describe any magickal working, from a three-hour group ritual involving prolonged dancing, drumming and chanting, to an act of 'Empty-Handed' magick which can be performed anywhere, and need only last a few seconds.

In general, magicians tend to proceed from the former to the latter type of working. As one continually progresses, the definitions of what constitutes a magickal action tend to become fairly fluid. At the beginning of magickal practice, it is usual to perceive magickal operations as being separate from everyday experience. Later, however, acts of magick become a part of everyday experience, as one makes the transition between inhabiting a Consensus Reality which is gradually widening to admit the possibilities of magick, to creating a personal Magickal Reality-a Psychocosm. EVOLVING A PSYCHOCHOSM

In becoming familiar with magickal ideas, reading books, learning symbol systems and correspondences, one comes to learn the game’s rules of magick. Like any other game, the rules define the framework of the activity.

For a game to be worthwhile, its rules must be flexible, open to different interpretations, and allow for different needs and situations. Involvement with magickal practice shows that the game rules of Consensus Reality are more flexible, and have more loopholes than one may have originally thought. Developing a magickal Psychocosm is a slow process, as one gathers momentum in magickal practice, shifting from the tentative position of having read a few books and probably having thereby set up preconceptions as to what magick is about, to beginning to practice magickal techniques in earnest.

One of the strengths of the Chaos approach is that experience is stressed over pre-experiential beliefs. Do it first, then consider which beliefs and concepts seem to be most appropriate, in the light of personal experience. In modern culture, there are hundreds of magickal systems available, with more being discovered, recovered and invented every year. Beginners in magick often adopt a system which reflects their core self-beliefs and ideas, or, as is sometimes the case, the first system that is encountered or made accessible. Since few people get anything from an approach they are not even remotely interested in, it is usually best to choose a magickal system that is attractive, for whatever reasons. It is important to note, however, that our beliefs relating to magick, be they general or particular, do not necessarily remain constant. They are likely to change according to our experience and changes in personal perspective.

Our primary sources of information which help us in forming a psychocosm tend to be books and other people. It is also important to practice the loosening of belief through reality-testing. This is not always easy to do, particularly if one has limited opportunities for doing so.

When magicians lack opportunities for reality-testing, beliefs about the nature of magick can quickly become dogmas to be defended at all costs. In part, this is due to the ways in which magickal theory is generally perceived. Whilst a student of physics needs to be familiar with certain theories before performing an advanced experiment, a magician does not need to have absorbed a huge chunk of abstract theory in order to cast a spell. Much of what passes for magickal theory is, at root, a matter of belief. As such, it is more relevant to the successful outcome of the magician's spell, that they have some degree of belief in what they are doing.

Moreover, whereas scientific theories are based (at least so we are told by scientists) on mathematical proofs, magickal theories are rooted in the personal beliefs of whoever is expounding them. Whereas scientific theories at least have the appearance of being unified and consistent, magical theories do not, nor is it a requirement, from the position of practical magick, that they do. While there are a great many theories and models proposed as to how, or why, magick works, (based on subtle energies, animal magnetism, psychological concepts, quantum theory, mathematics, the anthropomorphic principle, and so on) it is not a case that one of them is more 'true' than others, but a case of which theory or model you choose to believe in, or which theory you find the most attractive.

Indeed, from a Chaos Magick perspective, you can selectively believe that a particular theory or model of magickal action is true only for the duration of a particular ritual or phase of work. excerpted from “Prime Chaos” by Phil Hine.

#magick #magic #chaos magick #chaos magician #chaos witch #witchcraft #belief #prime chaos #phil hine

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