#this is how I fucking felt about Vessel’s mask change

[foxgloveinspace]

People jumping ship cause of the new masks is very ahhhh. Telling. Tbh.

#very much so #tell me you where only here cause of the looks without telling me your only here cause of the looks #listen. I miss the old masks already too. that’s not the point. #you can mourn for something without that taking away your joy for it. #‘it’s all moving so fast’ iii has been turning red since July. #‘they’re evolving too fast’ or we just got here later then others. #‘I can’t even listen anymore’ sucks to be you. the music that has been put out hasn’t changed so I don’t understand this one #‘they’re gonna get cancelled over this’ ok. I guess this is just thinning out the people who were real fans and who where fake fans #I’m gonna be a sleep token fan til the end. if this is the way they want their image to go? I’ll follow. if we get heavier music next? #sounds fucking amazing to me. (I listen to heavier stuff anyway). #idk I just think it’s so so so fucking telling. that if your jumping ship cause their Live Performance Aesthetic has changed… you didn’t #mean it when you said sleep token was important to you. #like I’m 100% MOURNING the old masks. I am BMO with Finn’s old hair sobbing about the old masks. #but I know this too shall pass #this is how I fucking felt about Vessel’s mask change #and to everyone going ‘what about Vessel and the Chior!’ #1). VESSEL HAD A MASK CHANGE EARLIER THIS YEAR!!! he isn’t gonna change masks again so fast those fuckers r expensive! #2). the choir did have a change?? they wherent wearing robes at all and where in body chains they looked amazing #I get we are all neurodiverse and hate change but take a deep breath before you renounce all your sleep token love #I’m guessing Vessel will get a new mask in April again. for the kick off show. #tonight was a closing show. and he didn’t FEEL GOOD. I wouldn’t be surprised that if he was gonna do something with a new mask #if he pushed it back because he didn’t feel good. #he performed a whole show while we could TELL his throat was hurting. fuck. #I want to wrap him up in a warm hug and give him hot water with honey in it. #idk I’m rambling. it’s just telling.

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 8. exhibitionism

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “come watch me play”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ vessel likes to put on a show for the christmas cheers. what kind of performance does he have in mind?

pairing: vessel x gn!reader

a/n: first sleep token fic in this little event 🫣

cw: nsfw content. exhibitionism. voyeurism. semi-public sex. degradation. masturbation. blowjob. kinda has iii x ivy. vessel is a bit of a dick.

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“yes… yess that’s it. all eyes on me. watch me fuck this bitch like a dog in heat.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

the moment ii, iii and ivy walked into their recording studio, they were met with a rather… compromising sight.

“… well?”

vessel’s voice ringed out, irritated with his bandmates just standing there. but could anyone blame them? the three of them were stunned, flabbergasted even. they didn’t know what to do.

“well don’t just stand there, you idiots. either you watch the show, or you leave.”

it took a moment for the three of them to even register the sight before them. it wasn’t until iii’s senses came back, and he bashfully shut the door behind them for some reason, he didn’t even know why he did.

what a sight for sore eyes. vessel had you bent over a table that originally had a bunch of sheet music and song lyrics, which were now scattered all across the red-carpeted floor from vessel shoving them off to make room for you. your nails dug into the sides of the table’s surface for support, because vessel’s cock was plowing into your tight, needy hole like it was the last fuck he’d ever have. the fierceness of him stretching you wide for your fellow bandmates to see was only making you more aroused, but fuck was it humiliating.

ii, iii and ivy were stunned, a wave of clashing emotions consuming their minds all at once. ii was stunned, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight. iii was being bashful about it, awkwardly looking away and trying to hide the problem in his pants. and ivy, well, he was straight up into it.

“hmm… this is what you do while we’re away, boss?” ivy inquired, his tone of voice not really being questioning, but more so intrigued with a certain lustful tinge. “.. didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“i do.” vessel panted between thrusts, gripping your hair and forcing your head up to show your fucked out face in front of the three masked men watching you.

“consider it an early christmas gift.��� the sleep entity managed out, his voice quickly turning into a low, husky chuckle.

“well it’s certainly a good one.” ivy snickered, his tone silky smooth. he turned to face his fellow members, smirking underneath his mask. “isn’t that right boys?”

ii was zoned out, he was too focused on checking yours and vessel’s half-naked bodies out. meanwhile iii snapped his head to ivy’s direction, face tomato red underneath the signature face covering.

he slapped ii’s shoulder to get his attention, and they both nodded.

“totally.”

“uh— yes.”

vessel’s voice was hoarse, trembling with pure lust and desire. he was so goddamn horny just from the feeling of multiple pairs of eyes watching him fuck the ever living shit out of you. you didn’t even know how you ended up in this situation. it was one event followed by another, then boom, here you are.

vessel’s strong, veiny hands gripped onto one of your legs and hooked it around his waist from behind, changing the angle and where his thrusts hit inside of you. he started hitting a certain spot that had you seeing stars, and you whined loudly.

“shit!” vessel cursed, gripping your hair more tightly, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “keep making noises like that. i want them to hear how good i fuck you.”

your mind was clouded with pure kinky desire. you could hear the sound of one of your fellow bandmate’s groaning and unzipping his pants, most likely to relieve himself of the boner you and vessel had given him. with this new angle vessel was hitting, you swore you were going to pass out of pure pleasure. it felt way too good to not express it through loud moans, whimpers and cries.

“god fucking damnit.” ii cursed, sagging off his jeans and leaning against the wall to rub his hardened cock. he could not keep his piercing, calculated eyes off of the sight. “i’m so damn horny just from watching this.”

for a moment he locked eyes with you, and that teary-eyed, hazy look on your face only got ii harder, and copious amounts of precum leaked from the head of his veiny length while he jerked himself off.

he never kept his eyes off of you.

as ii was groaning at the feeling of his self-pleasure, iii turned his head to look over at ivy. the guitarist looked so worked up, frustrated and horny from how his leader was going to town on you. he let out little grunts of fury as he desperately tried to jerk himself off.

without saying much, iii gulped, before taking a bold leap, and slipping his head between ivy’s legs, lifting his face mask up a bit to free his mouth. ivy’s eyes widened, but he didn’t object to feeling iii’s warm, wet mouth envelop his dick whole. iii choked and gagged as he took him in deeper, but the salty, almost sweet taste of ivy’s cock was enough to keep him going.

ivy cursed loudly and forced iii’s head down on his cock more, feeling something other than his hand to get him off was so much better. ivy out a loud moan and looking over at vessel and you.

vessel was having the time of his life. he loved the effect that his little sex toy had on the three of them. you just looked so good, your face all fucked out from how many times you came, and ii, iii and ivy were all getting so incredibly turned on from watching you. vessel was enjoying the power he had over his team, it made that dark lust sitting within him brew into something stronger, something that took over his body and made his thrusts more precise, quick and hard.

“yes… yess that’s it. all eyes on me. watch me fuck this bitch like a dog in heat.” vessel cried out loudly, his thrusts getting more forceful, and each moan eliciting from your throat got more raspy and needy.

with ii jerking himself off, and iii giving ivy the head of his life, none of them took their eyes off the sight. they were getting off to it. what perverts they were.

but you couldn’t say much, because you too, liked it. you liked the seductive effect your body had on them.

vessel forced your head into the table more, and kept thrusting. the room was filled with moans and groans of pure euphoria, and the sight couldn’t be more erotic.

vessel then chuckled and spoke to you again, keeping his voice hushed just for you.

“i hope you’re comfy, darling, because i’m gonna keep this show going on and on until you physically can’t cum anymore. got that?”

you nodded pathetically, and screamed vessel’s name loudly for your bandmates to hear.

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#holiday hoes event #sleep token fanfic #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader #vessel smut #ii sleep token #iii sleep token #iv sleep token #sleep token ivy #sleep token smut #sleep token fanfiction #smutty headcanons #smutty drabble #christmas #christmas prompts

[emerxshiu]

Void Termina gijinka redesign

woke up and felt like drawing on paper, i drew a zan, fucked up and then decided it was finally time to redesign my void.

i dont tend to use his gijinka very much, in fact i only drew him 3 times, the original, a slight redesign, and this one.

well i suposse i should show it already

honestly i really like it! :3

tho i used to like the other one too, now i think its abhorrent, so maybe i end up hating this one too overtime. i didnt want to clutter it with too many things so i tried to not go overboard, tho i did struggle as i did not want it to look to plain or simple, im thinking i might change some stuff, like the sleeves, wich i think are okay but they feel way too empty to me rn, but sometimes i just need to let the design grow on me. and i dunno, do something with his legs i guess, also if you are wondering why are they shaped like that, sometimes i prefer doing them like this, and other times i prefer for them to look more normal.

the mask thing had stuck with me for various months so i didnt want to discard it. the 3 lines under the eyes is something i do in all my drawings (unless i forget :p) but here i tried to make them longer, and in fact, im thinking of making them red, 3 in each eye, 6 in total, referencing zero, btw, i only did this sketch, but void's body has more markings like those and such.

the lines in the sleeves around the shoulders dont represent anything, i just added them so the sleeves werent so lacking, but the bar codes like lines at the end of them, are indeed, a reference to Zero two's boss fight's background, and the small oval shape thingyes are too, but instead a reference to the blood vessels in 02 wings. 6 on each sleeve, i thought of adding a 7th one that was more blu-ish (i know this is a sketch without colors) and diamond like, in reference to the titular crystal shards but it didnt look good so i scraped that.

the heart is something that was in the original design, but in a slightly different place, at the end i that downwards line (i dunno how to describe it) , basically, make it look like the heart spear, i saw lots of void gijinkas have heart spears somewhere and i wanted to include one too, and eventually did it like that. i tend to draw inspiration from other gijinkas a lot of the time, since i sometimes struggle with making designs, tho im trying to better at it, and remake some gijinkas so they dont resemble others' so much.

the thing next to the heart is from void termina's phase one, in his titan body, next to their shoulders, in fact, it looks very similar to the one's the three mage sisters wear in their attire's.

the pointy thing in their shoulders wasnt originally planned, but while drawing i accidantally made it pointy there and ended up liking the idea, and having it like a section so to say

i was going to have the hair have the patterns, but remembered this was more especifically void, the grey one (tho here things from all forms are mixed kinda) so his hair has the rainbow cracks, and i ended up using the weird swirly patterns in the clothes, they are really hard to draw but it feels rewarding when getting it right and ends up looking nice.

around the knees, where the clothes end, there are these feathers, purple more especifically, as i wanted to include the mane he has in phase one but i didnt know how due to how i was making the neck area, then, i thought around the shoulders but it didnt look good, before eventually setting on to add them at the end of their clothes.

before i ramble more and more about my void in general, im going to talk about the original gijinka

yikes.

three years do sure make a difference.

im not gonna complain that much about style, since i wasnt consistent and have gotten beter at drawing and honestly the eyes being so close togheter and taking up like 95% of the face is something i still accidentally do on ocassion but...

just talk about the design, in the remake, i tried making the references a bit more subtle, i think thats mainly my problem with the old gijinka, the references are way too straightforward.

its way too simple to me, yet has too much going on the sleeves, especially the left one god i dont like it, but at least i can support it, for now...the right arm is probably where the reference problem is easier to spot, having a literal drawing of a dark matter, and an eye, and oh yeah i guess dark nebula is there too but who cares about that dude.

honestly i dont know how to explain why i dislike the gijinka now (i used to kinda like it back then) that isnt basically repeating points. also it looks weird, i dunno why (aside from the eyes) but it does, tho mad props to 2022 me for drawing the patterns all over void's hair, it was so unnecessary but i appreciate her efforts.

Now, now, lets stop talking about, that, and talk about my void

i dont think it can be like, my characters interpretation, its more like an AU, but not quite, im not sure so just like, yeah im going to use au since my interpretation of how characters are in canon vs what i do with them, as in fics, drawings, things i think of them, etc differs, especially with void,

ok so, they are capable of shapeshifting, i mean, that kinda canon, but we'll just ignore whats canon or not. i mainly just choose that, aside from making him have and eye on his face from time to time, because i still do like long-haired void, so he sometimes just switches from a hairstyle that resembles kirby, to a longer one (because extremely long haired gods are soooooo)

when their angry, their hair becomes spikier, they can make their fingers longer, pointier, same with every limb they have. it can become more straight when sad, stuff like that, i also like thinking that it kinda looks like it is made of clouds, or like, perpetually under the sea, like, the hair is perpetually floating or moving around, never staying still for long, with small chunks separating and dissapearing like if they were smoke. his face can contort at will and more typical void stuff.

the original gijinka was focused more on the void termina from the story mode, the pink one, while the redesign was more on thinking about all forms he has (including the titan ones) and also after he got purged of negative emotions by kirby, so he sometimes tries to resemble him, hence the hair thing (in fact, the slight redesing i mentioned that was second, was just me making him more like kirby, shorter hair and stuff, basically the note that i had written in the og design) and sometimes i might just call him niru or nil, when refering more especifically to the post-ksa void, because i headcanon he reincarnates and basically gets adopted

sorry for rambling way too much about void, i love talking about this guy so much alongside fecto elfilis (i have way too much to say about the dude, i literally know almost all their attack names from memory)

and also for the lack of posting, tho winter break i gonna end soon and ill have to go back studying and shit, i dont want to.

but uh yeah! Jambuhbye :D

#art #fanart #kirby #kirby fanart #kirby gijinka #silly #traditional art #void termina #void termina gijinka #gijinka #shiu rambles about void for half an hour(yes it took me that long to write all of this in the most cohesive way i could) more at 11 #void kirby

[undiscovered-element]

Chapter two- Masks and scars

TW: emotional abuse (not by Vessel), toxic relationship, alcohol.

Opening the door with an unconscious man on your back seemed an almost impossible task at that moment, the drink brought a strong headache now, you just wanted to lie down right there and sleep without caring what the neighbors would think. A flutter in your pocket stirred up some of the fog in your mind, you rubbed your eyes and let the man fall again, why did it feel like you were carrying a body now?

Grumbling about his size, finally the keys fit the door and you turn the handle holding him by one of his legs thinking of dragging him to the couch but that seemed cruel, so again there he was on your back, this time a little easier, your body gave out and you both fell onto the couch, he was still in a deep sleep and you were just exhausted.

-You will pay a doctor for my back.

You become aware of the vibration in your pocket, your cell phone had rung a few times along the way. Your discouragement had a reason, a name, more specifically Joe. You wouldn't call back, you preferred to take off your shoes and throw them in a corner of the room along with your purse. You  grabbed a bottle of wine thrown under the table ignoring the hangover that was taking effect from the night's drinking, you just needed a few more sips to support that conversation, just a few more. A few minutes passed and your boyfriend's insistence became irritating.

-You forgot what time it was, Joe. - You get up from the couch exhausted wiping some of the smudged makeup on your cheeks.

-They told me they saw you making out with a man today at the bar, are you serious you've been a fucking problem and I'm wrong?

-Screw you! It's always like that, I'm sure that if I could count on you in these moments I wouldn't have to drink so much!

-What the hell, who were you with? I go there! Who are you with?

- Why can't you see how much you're hurting me? On our anniversary, what the fuck boyfriend are you? screw you

-Excellent! The fault will always be mine.

-Go to hell!-irrationally you throw the cell phone away from his sight holding his face tightly muffling a series of curse words.

- What a dirty mouth lamb.

- Oh heavens, shut up... - You quickly get up from the couch analyzing Vessel looking at you through the mask, clearly much more aware than before.

- I want to take a shower - He gets up still a little clumsy making you look at the state he was in.

-Where are you going?

-Get a towel from your room.

-What? Don't know where my room is, man? -you run up the stairs blocking the passage for him to continue.

-Do you want to kiss me?

-What? Got crazy? I can't let a drunk stranger walk into my house like he knows everything about me!

-The one on the cell phone, was that your boyfriend? -his question was as direct as an arrow, was he listening to the conversation?

-He is, and you're a dead guy if he sees you here.

As much as you couldn't see Vessel through the mask, you felt a heavy sigh leave his nostrils, he ducked a little, almost an offensive act for your height, you instinctively turn your face away from that act full of clearly no good intentions.

-Excuse me lamb.

You made a point of ignoring him, your notion, fear had already gone down the drain with that wine. Your act was to cross your arms and keep yourself inches from the masked face. Big time to get stabbed like in horror movies. A tension was building in your stomach, a mixture of curiosity and attraction, you were indeed going crazy putting yourself in such a position at the mercy of a stranger in your home. The feeling dissipates when your cell phone lying on the floor starts ringing again, Vessel's gaze is no longer on you, but on the object.

- Won't answer the call lamb?

-Shut up - you walk past him before feeling his firm touch holding your wrist once more.

-Let me change what I said, you won't answer.

-Do you think you can be another idiot and order me around?

-I don't know where the bathroom is, I want you to show me -Vessel leads you to the exact location leaving you even more confused than he was trying to do.

-Is this the part where I help you take off your clothes?

-I'm not a pervert and I don't want your hands on me, however, I don't want them on him either.

-In him? Are you talking about Joe? You've got to be kidding if you think I want dating advice from you.

- That's not a advice, lamb.

-You are really very strange, since you know the house I don't see any problem taking your shower and going back to the couch, good night Vessel.

You go to your room just throwing yourself on the bed, your body was so heavy and your feelings even more, your mind was confused and blurry. A loud sigh fills the room before his eyes slowly close giving in to a deep, heavy sleep. The idea of letting a possible maniac loose in your house while you slept didn't sound like a good thing, but at this point in the game your only threat was your boyfriend, by the next morning Vessel would be gone, so your thoughts dissipated giving space to sleep.

#sleep token #vessel×reader #vessel sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token vessel #fanfic #dark romance #the summoning #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #ii sleep token

[gubler-me-up]

Red Lingerie

Request: Can I ask for a Sub!reader fix please? Some heavy nsfw?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Very simple request but did I ever struggle to think of something LOL I hope it checks all your heavy NSFW checkboxes and it satisfies your craving! Happy reading! 😏

Couple: Dom!Spencer/Sub Fem!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, slight bondage, spanking, slapping, dom/sub dynamic, spitting, swearing

Word count: 5k

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Valentine’s Day was a day to celebrate the love between two lovers. Too bad your lover was away during the day. You two wanted to go out for a nice Valentine brunch, go for a romantic walk down by the lake before going home for the day to enjoy each other’s company. It was supposed to be extra special considering you two hadn’t spent a lot of time together for weeks.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend had an unpredictable job. He left a week before Valentine’s Day which earned him a huge, exaggerated sigh from you before you accepted he would be absent. You were excited to show him the special outfit you had planned for the night portion of your Valentine’s Day extravaganza. It was a little number you had picked up a few months prior because you felt as if you dripped sex in it.

When you tried it on in the store and looked at yourself, you felt as if you were the most beautiful version of a femme fatale. The mesh babydoll dress with mid-thigh high matching mesh stalkings that had a cute lace pattern at the top. The lace at the top of the stockings matched with the red lace thong that accompanied the outfit. Faux red feathers decorated the bottom of the mesh babydoll dress and a generous amount of the feathers covering your breasts. You knew it had to be yours immediately for not only your eyes to appreciate but for Spencer’s eyes as well.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the lingerie hanging from your fingertips as you pressed it up against your nude body. You sighed as you thought of what could have been. You tossed the outfit aside as the chances of Spencer coming home for Valentine’s night was slimming by the hours. Even though you weren’t going to wear it you decided you could at least get ready as if you were about to wear it. You opened the cupboard and pulled out your favourite lotion that made your skin feel amazing. You then pulled out your hair products and tools.

You reached for your phone on the bathroom counter to change the playlist on your phone to something uplifting. Sometimes you needed the motivation to style your hair into something decent. You noticed a text from Spencer on your lock screen. You raised a curious eyebrow as you saw the message he had sent you. A smile instantly spread across your face and you could feel your heart race in excitement. You put down your phone before picking up your red lingerie piece.

You placed it against your body again. You admired yourself in the mirror once more but this time you looked more energized, over the moon even. You used your free hand to press the lingerie closer against your body as you rand your hand down it to mimic how Spencer’s hand would caress your body in a few minutes.

“I guess I am going to be his little whore tonight.”

You spent the next 20 minutes preparing yourself for his arrival. You knew how much he loved seeing you all dolled up for him. It made the unwrapping process so much more enticing for him. He loved stripping you from perfection down to the desperate whore you masked behind your perfect hair and put-together look. You loved the way he looked at you once he had you how he wanted you. It was as if you were his candy he wanted to indulge in over and over and over again.

You made sure your hair was perfectly done with not a single strand out of place. You made sure every part of your body had your favourite lotion portioned on it. You then pulled up your mid-thigh high stockings before slipping on your lace panties. You then completed your ensemble with the red baby doll dress. You made sure to fix your hair in the mirror one last time before leaving the bathroom to get yourself positioned.

Before you went on the bed, you went to the dresser and selected his favourite perfume of yours. You sprayed your neck once on the left and then once on the right. You lightly sprayed your breasts for him. You then sprayed your wrist and rubbed your wrists together to pass on the scent to the other. You placed the perfume bottle back in its spot and went to turn off the bedroom light.

When the lights went off the only light pouring in was from the February moonlight. You went to the side table to turn on the lamp to add a bit more light to the room. You didn’t waste any more time lingering on the small things as you knew he’d be home any minute now. You crawled in the bed to get yourself ready for his arrival. You laid on your side with one hand propping your head up with the other laying on your side.

It was as if he knew you were ready for him because not even a minute passed by when you heard the apartment door open. You felt your heart race again as you could hear him place his keys down on the side table next to the door and heard his footsteps walking towards the bedroom. He wasn’t even in your presence yet and you were already getting wet at the mere thought of all the things he would do to you.

He opened the bedroom door to see you waiting for him on the bed with your red lingerie. He had a large bouquet of red and white roses wrapped in a light pink wrapping paper. You believed he wanted to surprise you with them but you had beat him to the surprise of the night. He stood there, frozen, analyzing every inch of your body.

You smiled at him. “Are those roses for your favourite whore?”

He smirked before he started to move again. He walked over to the empty chair in the room and placed the flowers on it. He looked back over at you before taking off his suit jacket. You eagerly changed your position from laying down to being on your knees on the bed.

He walked over to you as he started to undo his tie. As soon as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but put your hands on his face. You looked at him with an overbearing lust in your eyes as you caressed your hands down to his neck to pull him closer to you. You took a hold of his undone tie with both hands as you stared into his desired driven eyes.

“Please make me your whore for tonight,” you begged.

He tried his best to refrain from breaking into a smile from how needy you sounded. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs and caressed them gently up and down. Your muscles loosened up under his touch and you just wanted him to wreck you already.

“I don’t think you’re ready to be my whore tonight,” he said.

You pouted. “I am. I want you to fuck me like a dirty whore. I want you to use me as a cum dump.”

He nested his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his steady breathing on your neck before he planted two kisses on your neck. You let out an eager moan as you tugged on his tie to get some kind of response from him. He hit your earlobe softly before placing his mouth close to your ear.

“You want to be a cum slut not just a simple whore,” he whispered.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be. If you want me to be your cum slut, I’ll be your cum slut. If you want me to be a filthy whore, I’ll be-”

You gasped as you felt him shove two of his fingers into you. You felt his fingers steadily flick against your g-spot. You moaned out a hungry as you desperately wanted him to continue. He had you right where he wanted you and you wanted to continue being in his lustful grasp.

“I’ll decide what you are and what you’re not tonight. Do I make myself clear?” He asked.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered.

He took out his fingers from inside you. He leaned away from you and you immediately dropped your grip on his tie. From the way he looked at you it was clear he was ready to use you like the whore you wanted to be treated like. He placed his fingers on your mouth and then shoved them in so you could taste yourself. You moaned in delight to let him know you enjoyed the taste.

“I need a good vessel for my dick. Do you think your whore mouth can do that?” He asked.

You nodded in response. He took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately gripped your neck. He pulled you close to his face so you could see how disappointed he looked.

“I think a desperate whore like you can use her words,” he said.

“My whore mouth can do anything for you, sir,” you said.

“I don’t want to hear any gagging. You’re going to take my dick like a deprived whore. Am I making myself fucking clear?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you responded.

Without another word exchanged, he pushed you down to the side with you looking up to the ceiling. He gripped onto your hair and yanked your head so it would dangle off the bed. Even though you could see he still had his pants on you didn’t wait to open your mouth to prepare yourself for his dick.

You watched eagerly the upside-down image of him undressing. He threw his tie on the bed which could only mean he was planning on using it later. He threw off his dress shirt and flung it on the ground. He then unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them off just leaving his underwear on.

He approached your mouth and rested his bulge on your mouth. You licked the fabric which concealed what you really wanted in your mouth. You could feel his hard dick through the fabric which made you overly excited and overly wet.

“Pull it off if you want it so bad, whore,” he demanded.

You didn’t hesitate to yank his underwear off. His dick slapped you on your face as it bounced out which made you smile. With no more delay, he shoved it in your mouth. You tried your hardest not to gag on it, especially when he went right into fucking your mouth.

He pulled down the top of your babydoll dress to reveal your breasts. He gripped your right breast into his right hand with a mighty grip on it. You let out a powerful moan in response. He slapped your breast and you felt the sting linger before he did it again.

“Did I tell you to make a fucking noise? Your mouth is for sucking my dick, not for commentary,” he said as he slapped your breast again.

Your facial muscles flinched but you didn’t make another sound. If you wanted to be his whore for the night, you had to do everything he said. You knew what he had in store for you was going to be a night of sexual thrills.

You then felt his hands messing around with your underwear. You heard a slight rip of lace but didn’t care since you expected it to happen. When he was in the zone, clothing couldn’t keep him from getting what he wanted from you. You soon felt his fingers back in you stroking your g-spot. You tried your best to refrain from moaning even though he was pushing you towards it.

“Your whore pussy’s as wet as your fucking mouth. I can’t choose which one to cum in first,” he said.

You felt your legs tremble as he started to stroke your g-spot even more intensely. You tried your best not to make a single sound and continued to let him fuck your mouth. Your spit started to leak out of your mouth and go down your face. You could feel it go down your cheeks, past your forehead, and into your hair in an overflowing, bubbly stream.

Your focus switched from your hair to your clit when you felt him fiercely circling your clit. You couldn’t even hide how badly your legs trembled and you could no longer hold back your moans. You let out a cry of a moan repeatedly. Your sounds only motivated him to go faster and faster around your clit. His thrusts inside your mouth started to become more rapid and deep to the point where his dick was touching your throat.

“I thought I told you not to say a fucking word while I’m fucking your disgusting whore mouth,” he said.

You couldn't even respond to plea your case as his thrusts weren’t lightening up and neither was his hand around your clit. He stopped circling your clit and landed a harsh slap on your overstimulated clit. You let out a muffled shriek as the slap tingled throughout your body. He then went back to circling it for a few seconds before slapping it again. You arched your back as you muffled out another shriek.

“You were fucking begging me to treat you like a whore and you can’t even put out like one. You better be the fucking best cum slut right now if you want a chance to get fucked,” he said.

He went back to circling your clit as you tried to maintain your cool. Then you felt it. You felt a tingling sensation overcome your body. You tried to hold it back. You tried extremely hard to. Then he put his fingers back in you to stroke your g-spot relentlessly. You had no choice at that point but to cum.

You arched your back further as you let your orgasm take over your body. You moaned loudly around his mouth but he didn’t let up from fucking your mouth. He also wasn’t done with you. You felt him roughly squeeze your left breast in response to you having an orgasm. You let out a muffled shriek in response.

He went back to rapidly circling your overstimulated clit. You were still on a high from your orgasm so you couldn’t control anything any longer. You could feel tears forming in your eyes from how overwhelmed your pussy felt from his touch. You muffled a scream around his dick as you felt yourself squirt. He slapped it one last time which nearly made you jolt off the bed.

“You weak fucking whore. You get a little overstimulated and you decide to cum,” he said.

You didn’t attempt to moan anything. He didn’t give you the chance to anyway. He grabbed the back of your head to push your mouth all the way on his dick. You couldn’t hold back your gag as he hit the back of your throat. You could feel the tears drip from your eyes to join your saliva in your hair.

You couldn’t even move back from it with the way he gripped your head. He had you exactly where he wanted you and where you wanted him to have you. In no more than a few seconds you felt his cum in your mouth. You coughed since it tickled the back of your throat. He soon pulled it out to look at you. You let out a few more coughs and some of his cum managed to leak out of the side of your mouth.

He didn’t ignore your little slip-up. He slapped you on your cheek as a response to wasting his cum. You took it with no complaint because you knew you were being bad for wasting his cum after you begged for it. You already disappointed him with disobeying his demand of you being quiet and now this. You were definitely in for some big trouble.

“What kind of fucking cum slut wastes cum?” He asked as he slapped you again.

“A bad one, sir,” you whimpered.

“Don’t beg for shit if you can’t fucking deliver,” he said with another slap to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be a good cum whore from now on, sir,” you begged.

He grabbed you by your hair and sat you up on the bed. He then yanked you off the bed with your still slightly shaky legs. You got off and he pulled you down to your knees so you were face to face with his dick.

“Apologize to it,” he said as he shoved your face into his pelvis.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Sorry for what?” He asked.

“For wasting your cum,” you said.

He shoved your head down towards his balls. You assumed he wanted you to put them in your mouth to show how really sorry you were. You placed them in your mouth and sucked on them until a fresh pool of saliva escaped your mouth. He then pulled you away and forced you to look up at him. You could see this desire mixed with fury in his eyes. You could feel a tingle run down your spine again. If he could send chills down your spine with just a look he definitely owned you. You could have just melted into a pool with the way he looked as if he wanted to fuck his rage into you.

“Do you think you deserve punishment?” He asked.

“Yes, I do, sir. I’ve been such a bad cum slut,” you said.

He slapped you on the cheek with his free hand. “Don’t dare call yourself a cum slut until you can properly take cum. Fucking get up.”

He didn’t give you the chance to stand on your own two feet before he yanked you up by your hair. He pulled off your red babydoll lingerie dress and tossed it aside. He then threw your torso onto the bed, leaving your legs to be close to the floor. He pulled down your underwear and you stepped out of it. You felt him roughly squeeze your right ass cheek as if he was trying to find the right spot or the most tender part. You knew exactly what he was going to do and only a second later did he do it.

You let out a scream as he harshly spanked your right ass cheek. It stung so bad you knew it was going to leave some sort of bruise in the morning. He then did it again in the same spot. You screamed again as you tensed your right ass cheek from the pain. You knew his hand was in the air for a third one on the same spot so out of instinct you placed the back of your hand on the spot he hit. You could feel the heat radiating off from it.

“You fucking slut,” he said.

He grabbed your wrist and yanked it away from the spot he had hit. He then grabbed your other wrist and held them both together with his right hand. You turned your head to the left to see what he was going to do next. You saw him reach for his tie he had thrown on the bed and knew the chances of you using your hands for the rest of the night were slim.

He tied your wrists together as tightly as he possibly could. He made sure you weren’t able to interfere with his punishment any further. He yanked on his tie to see if it was tight enough. You knew they were tight enough just by the way they squeezed your wrists. They would definitely leave a mark once you were untied.

He noticed you looking at what he was doing. You immediately looked away so he wouldn’t think you were trying to overpower him in any way. You were genuinely curious as to what he was doing. You knew he wouldn’t accept that answer at all.

You felt his body closer to you as if he was leaning over you. You felt his teeth dig into your shoulder and you let out a short yelp. Then he did it again and again and again across your shoulder until he reached your ear. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t make another weak sound.

He grazed his lips on your ear. “This is exactly why a slut like you needs someone like me to keep you in line.”

You nodded your head still without looking at him. You felt his hand grab the back of your neck. He turned it so you had to face him. His eyes were low and his breathing was oddly calm and steady. You hadn’t even done much work but you knew you looked wild and untamed compared to him. Exactly how he loved you to look.

“Isn’t that right, slut?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered.

“You’re going to take your punishment and you’re going to fucking love it. Are we clear on that?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He leaned up and didn’t waste a second. You felt him spank the same spot for the fourth time. You buried your face into the sheets to prevent your scream from hitting his ears. He grabbed your hair and yanked it up.

“Say how much you fucking love it,” he demanded as he sparked the same spot.

“I fucking love it,” you screamed with tears stinging your eyes again.

“Keep saying it,” he said as he spanked the same spot again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeatedly shrieked as he continued to spank the same spot.

He then let your hair go. You let your head fall onto the bed in silent relief. You breathed heavily into the sheets as you took the time to catch your breath. It didn’t even sting anymore. After the fifth time it almost became numb. Obviously your punishment wasn’t over though. He yanked your head up by his right hand this time.

“Next cheek,” he said.

His announcement was followed by a deafening spank on a fresh canvas. You bit your lip hard as you tried not to scream. You let your tears freely escape your eyes as he did it again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeated as he spanked you repeatedly.

“That’s what a fucking cum slut should act like. Pathetic and desperate,” he said as he spanked you again.

“I’m a pathetic fucking cum slut,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked your hair. “And what are you fucking desperate for?”

“Your cum in my pussy,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked you up so you were standing in front of him. He shifted your body so you were facing away from the bed. He yanked your hair back so you could see his face. By the way he looked at you, you knew it was time. You tried to refrain from smirking to avoid another round of spanks.

“You better make me fucking happy,” he said.

“I’m your fucking cum dump, sir. I won’t waste it again, I swear,” you said.

He then pushed you over so you were at a 90-degree angle. You had nothing supporting you by your legs and your back. Your hands were still tied and you had no bed to rest on. You knew this was his way of testing how committed you were to his need for you to be his willing cum slut.

He grabbed your ass and you let out a soft yelp from the sting that ran through your body. You waited in anticipation as you could feel his dick outside of your hole. You wanted to move back so bad to take him into you fully. You had to keep reminding yourself about the stinging of your ass to calm your desire for him to fuck you.

He cut you from your thoughts as he pushed you back onto his dick. You shrieked out of surprise as you felt his whole dick enter you. He kept pushing you back and forth instead of thrusting into you. It was a unique choice but a calculated move. He for sure wanted to test you and you weren’t one to make a mistake twice. It was hard keeping your balance as your stockings were sliding against the hardwood floor.

“Keep your fucking balance, slut,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned.

You straightened yourself up as you continued to let him use you in the way he pleased. You could hear him making slight groaning sounds which you hadn’t heard all night. You just knew he was in love with the way his dick felt in you. You started to think he realized how good of a cum slut you could be with a pussy like yours. Your mouth could use a bit more work but he could never complain about the way your pussy hugged his dick so well.

“Your pussy sounds as if it’s ready for cum,” he said.

You took the time to hear the way your pussy sounded when his dick went in and out of you. You smiled at the sound of it. He then sped up the pace. Nothing but his groans, your moans and the sound of your juices sounded the room.

“My slut pussy wants your cum in me,” you moaned.

He continued to move you back and forth on his dick at a rapid pace to what you guessed was to come to his finish. Your legs started to wobble and become unstable as his strokes made you unbalanced. You arched forward as the pleasure of him fucking you was taking over your whole body.

He smashed you against him all the way. You shrieked at the thrill of having his dick all the way in you. You didn’t even care about the sting you felt when your ass hit his body. He grabbed your hair to pull you all the way up so your body was against his. He pulled your hair back so you could look at him again.

He placed his mouth against your neck to bite it. You moaned loudly in satisfaction and widened your eyes as you felt him full you with his cum. You bit your lip as he slowed down his pace to gently fuck his cum into you.

“Let’s see how good your slut pussy took my cum,” he said into your neck.

He pulled out his dick from you and reached down to rub his finger up your pussy. You shivered at his touch and let out a soft moan as he inspected. He brought his finger up so you both could see how well you did. There was a little bit of cum on his fingers. You eagerly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He gave in to your eagerness by glazing his cum on your tongue.

You gladly took his cum into your mouth. You made sure to show him how happy you were to have his cum in your mouth again. You wanted him to know you wouldn’t dare waste another drop of his cum. You opened your mouth to show him every trace of his cum was gone.

“Now that’s how a cum slut takes cum,” he said.

“Does that mean I can always be your cum slut, sir?” You asked.

“You have major potential, slut,” he said.

He used his other hand to grip the side of your cheeks. He squeezed them hard enough for you to open your mouth. He spit into your mouth. He let go of your face and watched you swallow his spit. You opened your mouth to show him you could swallow more than cum to make him happy.

“I’m dedicated to being your personal cum slut,” you said.

“I love to hear that, slut. I can’t wait to use you again,” he said.

“Maybe another day though. I think I overworked you tonight,” he said.

He let your hair go as he backed up from you. He untied your wrists and you could feel the circulation back in your hands. You watched him go over to the chair and pick up the bouquet of roses. He looked back at you with a gentle smile but still had lust glazing over his eyes. He walked over to you with the bouquet.

“For my favourite cum slut,” he said.

You smiled as you took the bouquet from him. He grabbed your face to pull you closer to him. He hit you with a huge, pleasure-filled kiss. It felt as if he waited to give you this kiss from the time he walked through the door. He backed away from you and leaned into your neck to kiss it.

“I know you wore that perfume for me. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I love a cum slut who cares about the little details for me,” he whispered in your neck.

“I would do anything for you, sir. Thank you for the flowers,” you said.

He leaned up from your neck to look at you. He grabbed your neck gently which brought a proud smile to your face. He grabbed your ass which caused you to yelp pathetically. It brought a smile to his face.

“There are also chocolate covered-strawberries in the kitchen for you. Eat up so you have the energy to be my cum slut again. I want to give your mouth a second chance,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t disappoint this time,” you said.

He kissed you gently on the lips. “I love to hear that. Happy Valentine’s Day, slut.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

[janshu]

In The Shallows...Part One.

Summary: @hanji-is-life more merman!Bakugo and so I shall provide! I was hoping to get this out much earlier, back in may because MerMay but better late than never I suppose! You, a marine biologist, take a scuba dive to see the local fauna off coast and you find more than you ever could've bargained for...

Word Count: 1.5.

Warnings: None but minor curses, mentions of the ocean, an illusion of drowning. Viewer discretion is advised at least.

How did you manage this?

You hadn't walked on the beach, much less roll around in the coarse substance. So how did it manage to get into your pockets? This was a new jacket so how?

A short walk from the parking garage to the pier was all it was, no beach travel involved yet it had wormed its way into your pockets, in between your toes and nearly everywhere else. 

Your team chuckles at your discomfort finding your squirming the funniest thing on the planet as they loaded up the sizable vessel for the day on the water. For the past several weeks you had been cooped up in a lab studying the samples others brought to you but now you were given the green light to head out into the field yourself. Your goal for the day was to gather samples, check on the status of the coral nursery, and a checklist of other menial tasks. A full plate all things considered, much better than getting a migraine staring through a microscope at sea water until you either give up or get sent home. 

Waves battered against the hull of the boat while you and your fellow colleagues suit up in scuba gear. The goal wasn't to go to the bottom of the ocean, far from it, fifteen meters was the maximum for today so simple snorkeling hear wouldn't cut it. You didn't get your diving certifications to be stuck in a lab. The salt spray refreshing against your skin for the few seconds it was vulnerable while you changed from your outfit into the designated wetsuit. Not the full suit that covered your body from head-to-toe, just a body one to keep your core warm when your swimsuit didn't offer much protection.

The boat came to a stop right around where the GPS locator dinged where the nursery site was and the captain gave everyone a thumbs up as you and your fellows attached their fins, tanks, SPG's and all the other necessary equipment. One-by-one each of them held their regulators to their mouths and fell back into the blue ocean below until it was your own, to which you received a wink instead while everything turned upside down.

Ten, twenty, thirty, a hundred. Regardless of how many dives you've had you'll never get over the beauty of the reefs. Each time serving something new, change was ever present in your line of work. Never seeing the same specimens twice to witnessing a rare species and everything in between. The sunshine overhead casting glittering ripples on the sandy floor, catching your eye on the schools of fish that swam by as their scales gleamed in different patterns. This was the closest feeling you had ever come to your childhood dream of becoming a mermaid. When you wished on your birthday candles and shooting stars to holding your breath underneath tub water in hopes gills would magically appear. That's what started this career. Maybe it was a long forgotten portion of your evolved brain from life's time in the ocean but you felt at home, a familiar sense of belonging that you didn't have on dry land. This was where you were meant to be but sadly your wishes had never come true and you were cursed to remain a land-dwelling mammal.

The beeping in your ears ripped you from your fantastical daydreams to remind you of the harsh reality. This is as close as you were going to get but that wasn't so bad, it was better having a little than nothing at all. Looking at the gauge meter it showed that you have roughly an hour left of oxygen which meant you had been in the water for an hour already. How time flies when you're having fun, absorbed in your daydreams, and checking on coral and taking samples.

"Hey, could we switch our tanks out without getting oxygen narcosis or are we screwed in that department?" Your voice came over the radio built in the full face masks everyone in the diving team used no doubt scaring those who were lost in thought as you just were. 

"Y/N...do you really want to stay out here longer? Shitting Christ, you should be glad you're out here in the first place!" The captain's voice responded from the safety of the boat. "Now get your asses back up here n' we'll head on ba-...what was that?"

"What was what?" 

A chorus of responses chimed in immediately after, some crackling from the distance they were from the source and others sounding as if they were a foot away.

"Nothing, never mind, must've been a Manta Ray. Forget about it. Just get your shit and come back, I'm gettin' hungry and its close to lunchtime so hurry up." The static cut off as he put down the radio and looked out into the churning ocean. The massive shadow he had just seen passing by the boat putting him on alert, he didn't want to witness any reef shark's feeding frenzy.

"We can come back tomorrow, Y/N. Nothing's stopping us from that, right?" Another voice, one of your favorite colleagues suggested. That was right, you were there and your boss hadn't explicitly said that this was a one time thing. Another visit would do some good to see if the biometrics have changed in a span of twenty-four hours.

"Alright, okay, we'll come back later for a differential test."

The group had a collective sigh of relief. You were notorious for loving the ocean to such a degree you'd do anything to stay in a while longer, they were all content with leaving now and coming back later if it meant they wouldn't see your sad pouting all the way back to the van. Picking up their equipment and vials everyone began swimming back to the boat now most of them making small talk and discussing their plans for the weekend while you were once again lost in your thoughts.

Something impossibly dark darted through your vision. Blocking out the beautiful view of the turquoise water and colorful life like an angry, ominous storm cloud. A blanket of blindness shrouding all light for a moment but it felt like an eternity as dread sunk in the pit of your stomach, anchoring you to the spot. The warm water now felt cold, goosebumps running up your bare arms and thighs like pinpricks. The heart that had been so calm in the home of your ribcage now pushing adrenaline through your bloodstream, adjusting to a state you weren't acting on. Fear. That wasn't a Manta Ray or a comically large Stingray that was something else entirely. A predator that crashed against the fragile cage of safety, security and believing you were untouchable in shallow depths.

You were reminded of the psychologically scarring and irrational fear of one's ankles being grabbed particularly in the ocean by a shark, the part of your lizard brain firing signals all across your synapses to detach the leg. If only. A fair trade, being left alone at the price of a limb but unfortunately humans couldn't detach or regrow whatever they lost.

That fear was horrifically evoked when something far more firm than a limp leaf of seaweed wrapped around your ankle. Slimey, cold as death and tipped with five sharp points. Reminiscent of a hand, a very large hand. Expanding across your bare skin like a calloused cuff that threatened to break the skin, sink into the meat and tear your foot off entirely. However, that didn't seem to be happening. No cloud of your own blood instead the safety of the boat got further and further away, turning into a speck barely seen in the shallow water.

"Wait, wait no! What the fuck?! Let go! What the hell?" When your brain managed to get over its fear and shock of the situation your fight-or-flight instincts kicked into high gear and your body began to thrash around against the hold. If it was a shark hitting it in the snout and eyes was imperative to get it to release but what if it wasn't? What else could possibly have your leg in its grip with a goal of pulling you away from the boat?

A flurry of indistinguishable voices and noises came over the radio. From yelps, screams and to curses but the thudding in your ears and the furious splashes drowned them all out, everything became topsy turvy, what was the bottom of the ocean and what was the surface became an abstract concept. The primal urge to escape was ripped away when the respirator giving you oxygen was unceremoniously and harshly ripped from your mouth, the hand that had done it orange and black. The water was salty, like you had dumped an entire container of table salt into your mouth and you washed it down with a sip of water. It was invasive, slipping down your throat into your lungs as they tried to gulp air instead. The more you inhaled the harder it was to move. Your limbs becoming as heavy as cement bricks. Unconsciousness began to consume everything, your body down to your mind. The eerie sensation of falling was the last thing before everything faded to black...

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mer!au #merman!au #merman!bakugo #tw:discretion is advised #tw:fear #tw:ocean #tw:water #tw:scary situation

[deans-haunted-baby]

Okay I see there are those who are confused as to why most of us are pissed about 15x19 I will gladly explain in depth:

Let’s start off with our boys Adam Milligan & Michael. These characters have not been seen for 10 fucking years. During that time there were Adam stans like myself campaigning like mad to have him and the infamous archangel return for some much needed closure. We had to content ourselves with headcanons, fanfictions and metas based on what we briefly knew of Adam and Michael as people while they unfairly sat in Hell. You might have seen the “Adam’s Still in Hell” memes that circulated. WE WAITED OVER A DECADE FOR THIS. And finally SPN answers our prayers and returns these boys back into the story for the final season. None of us anticipated what their arc and dynamic would look like. Before we could only imagine who these two characters were/are after having been trapped in a cage so long; what their personalities would be like and if they’d be antagonistic to TFW. 15x08 was a surprise because not only were Adam and Michael likable right out of the gate but the writing for them and their dynamic was damn near flawless! And Jake fucking stole the show he killed it as these two. It’s a crime they were not featured in more episodes because the chemistry between these characters is amazing and they’re played by the same dude.

We were given so much background into both Adam and Michael’s psyches in just a short period of time. Their motivations, interests and how they viewed those that wronged them (like the Winchesters); how Hell affected/changed them both and how they viewed their families. We got to see them banter, cooperate with one another and most importantly their different personalities. With Jake Abel appearing in only a handful of SPN episodes, he still fleshed out Michael and Adam beautifully; giving them layers and complexities that most side-characters (who’ve appeared more times than they have) didn’t. The way Jake played Adam’s anger and resentment towards his brothers was brilliant because it’s more under the surface compared to his angsty teenage self in 5x18. He’d become somewhat restrained, laid-back, gentler and wiser which works because Adam displays traits similar to Sam and Dean. He’s kinder and has a sense of humor but none of that distracts from rational thought as he’s quick to analyze and dissect situations. Man, he would’ve made a great hunter/Men of Letters recruit. We know right off the bat Adam’s pissed at his brothers for abandoning him in a thousand-year-prison-sentence and didn’t lift a finger BUT that ironically doesn’t compromise his willingness to help them unlike his past self in 5x18. Jake gets the point across with this character without saying much and that’s what made him so compelling to watch in this episode.

Now Michael was even more of a mystery onion since he wasn’t onscreen as much as Adam had been in past episodes so Jake got to really build on top of this character. Going from the uptight, cold-blooded merciless celestial warrior/dutiful son of God we saw in 5x22 to someone whom despite his arrogance and regal princely demeanor was very human, intelligent, fair, mindful and compassionate. He trusted Adam and respected his opinions even if he didn’t agree 100%. Whereas most angels take over the vessel completely from their original occupant; Michael chooses to share his vessel with Adam as a mutual agreement which says a lot about who he is. He’s fascinated with humanity and wanted to explore it instead of returning to his throne in the clouds. We know that Michael was created specifically to be Humanity’s protector and guardian of Heaven and Earth so these quirks he’d demonstrated in 15x08 aren’t too far off. He holds a lot of pain inside from his abandonment issues with his father whom he loves to a fault and grief over the death of his brothers. On the surface there’s very much an abused child syndrome thing going on with him though he masks it with a domineering presence. And above all this we saw that he was capable of forgiveness. Whether or not Michael always had these traits inside to begin with, its very evident that his friendship with Adam influenced the person he became post-Hell. And that was someone who, like Castiel, chose to rebel for the sake of free will by aligning himself with the Winchesters after witnessing the evil his father had committed. He actually cared about saving the world. This is what we call character development.

What does 15x19 do? It shits all over that. We don’t get to see Adam and Michael’s dynamic at all; and this was perhaps one of (if not the first) most healthy portrayal of a relationship between an angel and its original vessel occupant in the history of Supernatural. Adam is just killed off-screen Thanos style without so much as one last word and Michael barely reacts like he gives a crap. It was just established to us in 15x08 that he’d developed an emotional bond with Adam through years of inhabiting the same body. He protected Adam while they were trapped together in Hell. They were each other’s only friend and source of comfort. They’d developed a certain co-dependency on each other while respecting one another’s space. They’d both made peace with their joint situation. All they had was each other and the writing in 15x19 basically tells us their relationship meant absolutely NOTHING to Michael based on his OOC actions in this episode. He shows up much darker and shadier now that Adam is gone and its like all those years of friendship, things like that independence, newfound strength and humility he’d gained from living with a human for so long are erased. Michael just reverts back to Chuck’s 5x22 bitchboy persona in the most ridiculous 180 shift I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. And all because his little brother called him mean names. Pitiful. Just when he lectures Lucifer about standing up for what’s right; he betrays his own words, his allies and the rest of humanity in T-minus 2 minutes. That is total character assassination. Nothing about this motivation makes any sense.

There’s no build up to it, no foreshadowing in 15x08 or throughout 15x19 until they get to the lake. He’s completely deconstructed as a character in this episode and rendered weak. It’s like 15x08 never happened. Stripped of all his development for lousy shock value. Instead utilizing all of what he’d learned through Adam and sticking it to Lucifer by proving he could be more than what Chuck tried to mold him into; Michael becomes just another NPC in the story forfeiting the hero he was. And his reasons for siding with Chuck are never specified. Was it about about saving Adam? Was it about proving something to Lucifer (whom he’d already killed in anti-climatic fashion)? Was it all an act that he was in on with the Winchesters; cause there’s absolutely NO FUCKING WAY they could’ve predicted he’d flip on them like that for their magical plan to work. Not after everything Chuck’s done, killing Adam and Jack and leaving Michael to rot in Hell for eternity. And why would he suddenly go along with destroying the Earth when defeating Chuck would probably get Adam back (if that was his goal) which IT DID not to mention its his sworn duty to freaking protect humanity, hello? So his betrayal meant jack shit in the end as it got him killed by his fucking dad!! He’s brought back into the show only to be ruined forever and killed off in the stupidest fashion.

Moving on.

Jack Kline & Castiel. This iron-clad relationship has been in development for 4 in 1/2 years since before Jack was even born. And next to Adam & Michael its the other most healthy relationship on the show. Castiel, a million year old celestial being, spent the first 9 years of his arc on Supernatural following around the Winchesters, being torn between his loyalty to them and to Heaven. He rebelled when he was supposed to be a straight-by-the-book warrior of God. And he defied every rule in the process even when the odds were stacked against him. There was an endless rinse and repeat cycle of love, loss, betrayal and redemption when it came to his relationship with Sam and Dean. It made his character complex, interesting and layered but it still didn’t give him an arc that was his own. Castiel started out moreso being written as just the Winchester’s angel BFF/side-kick. Until Lucifer got Kelly Kline pregnant in 12x08 then things really took off. Before this, Castiel was a lost soul. His faith was broken, he was depressed, lonely, battered and rundown from years of being conflicted over the other angels and Sam & Dean. He felt he’d lost a sense of self and meaning in his life. And didn’t have a mission. Once he turned on Heaven’s orders, Castiel was a rebel angel without a cause so to speak. But like I said this changes the moment he meets Kelly.

Originally Castiel was suppose to kill Kelly in 12x19 because she was carrying the child of the devil and Nephilim are considered forbidden abominations. Told that if Lucifer’s kid was born he could unleash even more evil into the world. But instead of doing what he thought he should, Castiel decides to runaway with her. Choosing to protect her from all threats (Lucifer, demons, other angels, princes of Hell); this especially included the Winchesters. During this short time-frame the angel develops a strong, emotional bond with Kelly and her unborn son that stretches all the way to the S12 finale; to the point where it actually gave him a power-boost. From the womb, Jack appoints Castiel to be his father and protector and he’s given a glimpse into the child’s destiny that he’ll bring paradise to the world. A prophecy that the writers establish head on. This is an unusual circumstance because right here is where Castiel’s solo arc apart from the Sam & Dean takes shape. The journey of becoming a first time parent and guardian. Its a new kind of independence that for the first time has nothing to do with his friends or his family members/colleagues in the sky. Its his own personal mission that he willingly accepts, the second he connects with Jack from inside Kelly. Castiel immediately falls in love with him, before they even see each other; and adopts the boy devoting himself to keeping him safe. Making a promise to Kelly that would later become a vital plot-point in the seasons to come.  

Castiel literally risks everything (Heaven and Earth) to ensure Jack’s birth and ends up dead by 12x23′s startling conclusion. Leaving the newborn infant Nephilim alone in the care of the Winchesters going into season 13; scared, confused and aged into a seemingly 18 year old boy for his own protection. And Alexander Calvert who is a fantastic addition to the cast really brings something wonderful to this role; he’s like a breath of fresh air and a bright light in the middle of a dark room. Jack’s naïve, innocent and curious about his surroundings but also as Castiel once put it “remarkably intuitive”. Right when he’s introduced his arc is intentionally paralleled with Castiel’s. Their alien-fish-out-of-water beginning is practically identical as is their adorable stoic facial expressions. Like father like son. And this helps because while the angel is currently dead in the beginning of season 13, there’s an empty void he’s left behind. So Jack is kind of his temporary stand-in. Odd enough this type of switcharoo would’ve been considered very controversial but it’s handled quite well. Alex is so likable and charming I almost wish Supernatural had introduced him sooner. I mean I really thought I was looking at Castiel’s actual mini-me and not the son of Satan. But I digress Jack’s story in the first half of this season is pretty much about discovery and reuniting with Castiel. He’s a baby so everything is new to him but he’s also one of the most powerful beings in the universe destined for greatness which makes the Winchesters very nervous.

Jack remembers choosing Castiel as his dad which is why he already feels strongly connected to him. Its a bond so powerful that it actually resurrects Castiel out of the Empty the first time. Something Chuck himself was unable to do (that was until the mess that is 15x19). When they’re finally reunited the payoff comes so naturally. Misha and Alex have such a phenomenal onscreen chemistry starting with that first hug; they really play off one another so well that it doesn’t feel like two angels interacting but a genuine father and son duo. So much of what makes Jack and Castiel’s relationship so relatable, deep and endearing is because of what the actors bring to it. But they’re not just a fascinating relationship, they’re compelling on their own too. Both trying to find their way in the world and within the Winchesters’ lives. Death is no stranger to either of them (tragic being that Jack is only a toddler). They’ve each experienced their own personal pain, traumas, life lessons, mistakes and decisions. The biggest for Castiel would be his deal with the Empty to save Jack in 14x08. While for Jack it was the consequences of said deal that would lose his soul causing him to accidently kill Sam and Dean’s mom in 14x18 as a result (something that Jack struggles with immensely to the brink of depression from so much guilt and regret that he’d rather die). Repercussions that would follow into the shows final season. What’s interesting about this deal though is that Castiel made it on parental instinct alone not as a promise to Kelly. He chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of his son as a selfless act of love and kept it a secret from Sam & Dean until his death in 15x18. That’s the extent how much this child meant to him. The other great thing about their family dynamic is that it parallels nicely with the Winchesters. Castiel and Jack share this unconditional love that can never be broken. its even greater than their ties to the Winchesters themselves just as Sam & Dean’s love for each other is greater than any of their other relationships. They would do anything for each other. Castiel would go to the ends of the earth for the little nougat baby because that’s his son.  

Each time these characters were faced with danger or died, Castiel and Jack were overcome with extreme devastation and distress. That said its not just pain that binds these two its happiness. Jack is the best thing that ever happened to Castiel. Literally becoming a father to that child saved him. It brought him back to life, restored his faith and gave him a sense of self-worth and hope he’d long since abandoned. And for Jack, Castiel is the best dad he’ll ever have! He gave this baby comfort, wisdom, nurturing, strength. Was always there when he needed him whether it was to talk or to have his back. No other person in Jack’s life has ever made such an important impact nor made him feel more safe and loved than Castiel. Even when Jack had done such a horrible thing to Mary alienating himself from his family; it was Castiel’s unyielding devotion to Jack that ended up being his salvation. This was huge because once again he’d chosen over the Winchesters proving that no matter what (whether it be the world ending) his son comes first. So when Castiel’s pact with the Empty finally comes due in 15x18 you’d think it’d have an earth-shattering affect on Jack in 15x19. I mean for the first bit it does...until he becomes God. Then its like to hell with that relationship. Castiel is a complete afterthought to Jack and the rest of TFW in this episode. JACK DOESN’T EVEN GET TO GRIEVE HIM PROPERLY. And he just lost his dad because of a deal he’d made a year ago for him. A DEAL JACK HAS BEEN FUCKING DREADING WHILE HE WAS SOULLESS MIND YOU. And when he finally has the power to bring him back, he doesn’t? Jack just walks around with a conceited smirk on his face, bids Sam and Dean adieu and fucks off. I mean who gives a shit right, its only your dad that you love more than anything. This was extremely OOC given that time in 14x14 Jack nearly lost his shit when Castiel got infected with gorgon poison; the anti-venom wasn’t working so Jack resorts to using his powers putting his soul at risk.

I mean if he was so limited to helping Castiel in the Empty AT LEAST FREAKING CLARIFIY THIS TO THE AUDIENCE. This is not about shipping a certain pairing btw. Jack becoming God is not the issue its his characterization after the fact. His first instinct would’ve been to save his dad above getting in touch with the Earth. Yes we knew this transformation was coming it was foreshowed way back in Season 12. Does that justify bad writing or character assassination?? HELL NO.

This is what I’m talking about, episode 15x19 deliberately butchers these characters and their relationships. It shat all over them. No one is behaving like themselves. The pacing is wonky and inconstant. The script feels like it underwent several rewrites and I swear there were scenes cut out. The acting is off too and maybe the pandemic could be blamed for these things but it ultimately falls on the writer. Buckleming screwed up by showing us they don’t know who the hell these characters are, their motivations nor do they give a rat’s ass. And its noticeable on screen. I’ve known better fanfiction writers for SPN than these guys. It’s like they all came back to work but just didn’t care to put the effort into it. That’s why people like me are upset and we have every freaking right to be. Some of us have been with this series for the entire 15 year run. I at least expect these characters to be handled better and for things to make sense. 15x19 doesn’t and its not satisfying its just a cruel joke. The writers and Dabb should be embarrassed to have put this out there thinking we’d just swallow it and shut up. But far as I’m concerned the only thing this episode serves is to disrespect and ruin everybody while angering long-time fans.

MICHAEL. ADAM MILLIGAN. JACK KLINE AND CASTIEL DESERVED BETTER. And that’s the tea.

#adam milligan #Jack Kline #supernatural #castiel #michael the archangel #michael spn #SPN #midam #dadstiel #adam x michael #castiel x jack #spn 15x19 #supernatural season 15 #michael #spn spoilers #spn season 15 part 2 #spn rant #spn meta #THERE IS NO JUSTIFICATION FOR WHAT HAPPENED HERE #supernatural 15x19

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4: Apologize

I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.

Summary: 

Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.

Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic. 

**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.

It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.

After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery. 

The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well. 

Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.

The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.

Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes. 

Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.

It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.

They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason. 

Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.

More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.

She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.

He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.

He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.

All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though. 

Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.

Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.

She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.

And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.

He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.  

He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.

Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town. 

Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section. 

There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.

Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.  

He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.

He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.

“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.

Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”

Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”

“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.

Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.

Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.

“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.” 

Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.

Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up. 

Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.

“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.

“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”

Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”

He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.

“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.

 “I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.

He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”

Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”

“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.

She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.

Is she fucking serious?

Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness. 

It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.

“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.

Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?

After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check. 

The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.  

So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.

“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”

A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.” 

“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.

“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone. 

            _______________________________________________

Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.

It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him. 

She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue. 

And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear. 

She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.

“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”

In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight. 

“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.

“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”

Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.

“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?” 

Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question. 

“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.

This entire conversation was throwing her off.

“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”

Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine. 

“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out. 

“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”

“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.

He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.” 

“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?” 

Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”

She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance. 

“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.

The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides. 

She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.

But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.

Had she really been so blind? 

             _______________________________________________

Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.

He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.

It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.

He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue. 

Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get. 

As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her. 

He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends. 

He’d felt used.

Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.

Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.

Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.

Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.

All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.

“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater. 

“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.

She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.

“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I? 

Was that a trick question?

“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.

“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.

He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?

He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”

His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”

It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.

“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.

“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.

“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”

She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.

Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you��d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”

She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.

“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.

“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”

“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”

“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.

As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.

“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”

His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.

“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.

She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.

“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”  

Very articulate. Great job, Soul.

He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.

“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest. 

At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.

She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips. 

This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making. 

When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face. 

“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.

He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep. 

He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaweek #soul eater #soul evans #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul x maka

[sithsecrets]

celebration | din djarin x reader

mando makes it back from his hunt. you and him celebrate, just like you said you would.

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2.3k words

mentions: fem!reader, graphic depictions of sex, piv sex, tiny bit of defining the relationship but we all know how emotionally guarded mando is, slight bit of violence, but it’s mostly off-scene and not directed towards reader of the child, SMUT like big time but i know that’s what you came for

this is part two of release! read that first if you like, but i’m sure you could enjoy this without all the context.

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Mando leaves to find his quarry not five minutes after he lands the Crest, and then you don’t hear from him for three days. It’s his typical behavior, and so you think nothing of it, going about your business on the ship, playing with the baby…

Until the comm crackles to life on the fourth day.

“I’ll be home in ten minutes. Be ready for me.”

You know perfectly what he means, one sentence playing on loop in your head again and again. Better be waiting for me, better be waiting for me, better be waiting for me… You’d like nothing more than to strip naked and crawl in Mando’s bunk like you know he wants you to, but it’s the middle of the day. The baby’s awake and cooing happily, there’s a meal to make and chores to finish… Still, you don’t want to give Mando the wrong idea, and so you perch on the edge of his bed with the baby in your arms, sure he’ll get the message.

Exactly nine minutes later, Mando comes barging onto the ship, wrestling with the quarry, telling the them to shut up and cooperate. There’s a struggle and more shouting after that, but you don’t so much as flinch, rocking the Child absently when he begins to fuss.

Two sentences in a language you don’t understand, three cuss words in Basic, the sound of a harsh kick, and then… and then Mando’s coming into the hull, huffing and puffing through the vocoder as the carbonite system engages in the other room.     It’s as if the world falls away when the two of you lock eyes, but the Child’s bright, ringing cries shake you from your chance not five seconds later.

“Hey, kid,” Mando sighs, reaching for the baby. You can’t help but smile as you watch the Child coo and gurgle in his father’s arms, thrilled that Mando’s back after so much time away. There’s small talk, just a few words about the hunt and how the quarry ended up in custody, but you find yourself riding the high of a brave streak for briefest of moments.

“Is a celebration in order?” you ask Mando, shifting just the slightest bit on the covers beneath you. He’s watching you move, that much you know, and so you run your palm over the quilt, sure to move slow slow slow.

Finally, he nods. “Yeah,” he says, “I think so. As soon as the kid’s asleep.”

“As soon as he’s asleep,” you affirm, nodding in turn.

---

It’s not until hours later that the Child goes down for the night, drifting off as the Crest blasts through hyperspace. You listen as Mando tucks him in, fussing over his blankets, telling the baby goodnight in a soft voice that you’ve always loved. Settled on top of a crate, you wait for him to finish up, dressed in little more than a t-shirt and underwear. Mando’s liable to rip it all off of you anyway, so you figured getting fully dressed for bed was pointless.

Every blood vessel in your body thrums with excitement, every nerve sings with anxiety… Your heart jumps clear up in your throat when you hear Mando’s boots coming from the back of the ship, his footfalls heavy and imposing until he’s standing right there in front of you. He pauses a few feet away, the black, endless void of the visor trained directly on you, on your body. You can sense how intently he’s looking you over, but more importantly, you can see just how tense Mando, how his body’s drawn tight since he got back. He’s always wound up after a hunt, always comes home jumpy and tense, but it hasn’t dawned on you until now what that could mean, for you and for him. If he’s got the stamina, this could be a long night…

You think about breaking the ice with some innocuous question about the baby, but Mando doesn’t give you the opportunity. Without taking a single step closer, without so much as touching you, he asks, “You wet?”

Something about his tone implies that he already knows the answer, and you sure as hell don’t have to check. “Yes.”

“Good,” Mando declares, deadpan. “Go lie on your stomach.”

You do as he says without objection, starting when Mando calls out to you again.

“Take your underwear off first.”

Yes, sir, is your only thought after that, but you’re relieved to find that you still have enough about yourself to bite back the words. Two quick motions, and then you’re prone in Mando’s bunk, breathing in the smell of his sheets as you wait for something to happen. Not once before tonight have you ever felt this vulnerable, this exposed, this much like prey. Mando walks to you, slow and deliberate, and you feel yourself trembling for him, because of him. You yelp the second his hands land on your ankles, warm and calloused and distinctly ungloved, powerless to resist Mando as he drags you down the bed. He tells you to spread your legs, to kneel wide and low for him, and so you do, scrambling to brace yourself and follow orders all at the same time. A belt buckle clinks, you hear a button and zipper being opened, and then Mando pushes inside you with one firm, fluid motion of his hips, effectively knocking the air out of your body. There’s no adjustment period, not so much as even a word of warning before Mando sets a relentless pace, fucking you up his bed and into the mattress. You moan for him without shame, scrabbling at the quilt just to have something to hold on to as Mando manhandles you every so often. Pinning your arm in place, readjusting your legs, pushing you down by the back of your neck— you don’t protest one bit through all of it, unable to form so much as coherent thought. Never before in your life has a man fucked you like this, and you’re struggling to keep up, but you don’t ever want it to stop. That’s why you let out the most pathetic little whimper when Mando does go still, his hands gripping your hips like a vice as he pants through the modulator.

Words are still lost on you, but you try to speak anyway, stammering and stuttering through a few aborted sentences. “I— I don’t— Mando, please—”

“I’m being too rough with you,” he cuts, grip going slack. You whine again, but it’s like Mando doesn’t hear you, talking almost to himself now. “I just— You don’t— I’m being too rough with you.”

For a brief moment, you fear he’s going to end things here, but then Mando’s moving again, groaning as you clench around his cock. By no means he making sweet, gentle love to you, but you do find yourself appreciating this steadier, more controlled change of pace. You can take full breaths like this, the bite of Mando fingers on various parts of your body isn’t so harsh, isn’t so bruising… He even tells you that you look pretty laid out for him like this, and that little piece of praise almost has you seeing stars.

You feel the loss immediately when Mando pulls out, whimpering in distress. But then his hands are on you, rolling you onto your back, settling your legs around him. The angle is different this way, but you’re no less satisfied when Mando starts fucking you again. He yanks your shirt up and cusses coarsely at the sight of your chest, the press of his hips relentless now. He’s got to be close, you think, the two of you have been at this for what feels like so long…

Fire spreads through you at the first brush of Mando’s thumb on your clit, wild and all-consuming, and it’s all you can do to hold a conversation with him when he starts talking again.

“You gonna cum for me, cyar’ika?” he asks, and you might think it was a tease if Mando’s own voice didn’t sound so strained and broken. He’s holding back for you, he has to be.

You manage to squeak out a ‘yes’ at that, but your capacity for speech ends there, all words choked off by the way Mando laces your fingers together. And though the two of you are fucking, for the Maker’s sake, the gesture makes you feel shy, makes you turn your head even as you feel your orgasm beginning to crest. For just a few seconds, the world blurs, your body contorting in pleasure. Mando says something, maybe asks you a question, but you couldn’t even begin to guess at the content of the message.

When you finally come back to reality, when sound and sight and everything like them comes back into focus, you pant for breath, exhausted. Mando looms over you in the darkness, masked and armored and covered from the top if his head to the tips of his toes, and you wish so badly that you could look at him as he his. Even if you could just see his face, could just look into his eyes…

“Stay here,” Mando says to you, words crackling through the vocoder. He walks off with his pants open, returning seconds later with a wet rag in hand. You watch Mando clean himself off, hands rough and graceless as he works himself over, but the way he treats you is anything but. No, Mando swipes the cloth between your legs so very gently, head bent to his work as he cleans his own cum off your stomach. Like before, something about this tenderness has you feeling shy, face hot as you wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s thinking anything at all.

“You got another pair of underwear?”

The question catches you a bit off-guard, but you manage to get out an answer anyway. “I— Yeah, in my bag.”

Without a word, Mando goes away again, this time coming back with a pair of your panties in hand. Once again, he defies your expectations, dressing you himself even as you insist that he doesn’t have to. Finally, in a move that shocks you the most out of all that’s happened tonight, Mando tells you to crawl in his bed.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he offers, calm and casual. You try to mirror his demeanor, simply nodding as you go to get under the covers at the other end of the bunk, but your pulse is pounding. It’s not like Mando blew you off after you went down on him— quite the opposite, actually— but you hadn’t been expecting something like this.

You pretend to be disinterested as you lie there, watching in shock as Mando strips off his boots and armor. The sight of him in nothing but shirt and pants is a bit shocking, but you find your heart singing as you take in the plane of his back, the shape of his arms… You like the beskar, especially when it’s on Mando, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t imagined him like this a thousand times. The real him, who he is under all the armor and weapons. This isn’t exactly Mando bare to the world, but… but it’s closer, and that’s all you can hope for right now.

It’s a tight squeeze in Mando’s little bunk, but the two of you make do with what you have. Mando’s warm when you cuddle close to him, chest firm under your head, stomach soft under your hand. Every move Mando makes is hesitant and delicate, almost like he’s handling something volatile and wild, and so you let him take his time, gentle in every way until he gains confidence. To feel his bare hands in your hair reminds you of what happened when you first offered yourself up to him, though the memories don’t exactly upset you.

“I… That was good, mesh’la,” Mando finally says, speaking slowly. “Thank you.”

You let your hand trail up and down his side, content. “Any time.”

“I’m serious,” he presses, “I needed that. You’re… You’re very good to me. For letting me do things like that, I mean.”

“Mando,” you say, serious now, “I told you that first time that you could do whatever you want to me, and I meant. You don’t have to thank me.”

It would seem he doesn’t know what to say to that, and so Mando just holds you closer, arms wrapped tight. You study him for a moment, catching just the barest, littlest glimpse of his chin under the lip of the helmet.

“What do those words mean?” you ask, throwing your leg over Mando’s hips.

“Which words?”

“The ones you called me when we fucked.”

“Well,” Mando begins, “Mesh’la means beautiful.”

“And the other one?”

“Cyar’ika is… Cyar’ika is like sweetheart, but with more feeling. You wouldn’t— It’s not something you say casually.”

You could pry into that, you know, ask a lot of questions and stir the pot. Hell, maybe Mando would even tell you some of what you want to hear. But that’s a big risk, and you don’t want to ruin all the good that’s just passed between the two of you.

“Sleep with me, please,” you say softly, pressing your lips to Mando’s neck. “I know you’re tired.”

“You think an old man like me can’t keep up with you?”

You smile, snuggling closer even as you tease him right back. “Not after he’s been hunting for days.” You turn your face upwards, earnest now. “Seriously, promise me you’ll try to get some rest.”

“I will, cyar’ika,” he says. “I promise.”

#my writing #release and celebration #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 9

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

Tulipa gesneriana ~ Commonly called the Garden Tulip. A lovely flower with cherry red petals that is never seen cultivating by itself.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Now that we’ve had our pity party, how about I act like a proper grandmother and show you some photos.” Oma smiled and rose to grab a weathered tin and a photo album from the bookshelf. Levi felt like the couch was engulfing his form with its soft cradle. When Oma turned around she was met with his body half eaten by the overly plush material; his shoulders hunched and tea propped up against his chest as his body reclined even further inward. He looked pleasantly comfortable and stiff at the same time.

As she plopped the two memory vessels on the coffee table, Levi’s features hardened akin to the rusted box now in front of him. The foreign lettering connected in geometric shapes that he recognized but could not decipher. They left remembrance teetering on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s my father’s cigar box.” Oma explained when she noted his fixation on the object. Levi heaved himself out of the couch’s embrace and propped his elbows on his knees, still fixated on the memento.

“The writing on the side…” Levi let his sentence flit away on his breath as his brain delved deeper into the patterns.

“Writing? What makes you think its writing?” Oma pursed her lips and picked up the weathered box to give it a closer examination. “Looks more like a decorative design.”  

Oma shrugged and passed the box to Levi. It felt cold on his freshly tea-cup warmed palms. Flashbacks of loitering about the weathered guard posts, frosted cabins, and Utgard Castle drew back vivid images of the strange symbols. They sparked his curiosity enough to imprint within him, but he didn’t care enough to debate with the old woman.

It would be a memory put on hold for another time.

“I’ve seen something like it at one of the outposts on old crates of supplies and alcohol.” He stated, placing the box down in resignation.

“Hmm.” Oma gave one final acknowledgement before popping the top open. She lifted the haphazardly stacked photos out of their resting place with a gentleness that cradled each precious paper.

As she flipped through them, Levi felt like he was gaining memories of a childhood... a family ...that he never had. It was like observing someone’s entire life through a looking glass. These pictures were of Oma; of her and her husband, of her and their children, of her and you and Petra.

Levi’s brow knitted when she came to a photo of a spry, young version of herself embracing a familiar face-only with a full head of lucious locks.

“You and- Pixis ?” Levi said in exasperation and squinted at the photo as if that would make his shock dwindle.

Oma couldn’t have been much older than you; her statue was slight but her physique was robust. Her hair cascaded from her bun and softly framed her face that smiled wryly at the camera. She was arm in arm with Pixis; his eyes crinkled with happiness and hair (comically) blowing in the wind.

“Ah yes. Dot and I were both squad leaders and grew very close.” Oma sighed with a nostalgic glow. “That man truly had a way with his hands. The last time I saw him Ymir knows I couldn’t restrain myself-”

Levi inhaled his tea so furiously that it seared his throat with the same passion Oma gave off for the garrison commander. She looked on in amusement as he collected himself and cleared the assault on his lungs.

“You mean, you two-” Levi started, mentally wiping away the unwanted visual before it left a permanent stain in his cranium.

“Oh yes. As casual and dedicated as friends but as steaming as this kettle.” Oma’s youthful vigor radiated extra brightly as she reminisced.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Levi asked.

“My husband snatched me away.” She winked and continued on her trip down memory lane.

“Ah! Now that one of you is here…” Oma began excitedly as the next photo was unveiled. “You can tell me all about this one.”

“You have this photo?” Levi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he relieved the corporeal memory.

“Yup, she sent it to me for safe keepings. Said in her letter that she saw your face enough everyday that she didn’t need the photo right now.”

Levi felt the familiar feeling of his heart expanding when he set his eyes on your elegant beauty. The photo in question was taken at the last Royal Gala after everyone had swapped their military uniforms for evening wear. He always secretly wished he had more excuses to see you in a gown such as that one; the smooth fabric billowed gracefully from your hips, accentuated your curves, and pushed upward the swell of your breasts that were cradled in a lining of lavish lace trim. It would be eternally alluring to him, partially from the lavish overstimulation of the elite banquet and because it was-well- you. He remembered the insatiable feeling of the stark and sudden transition of having absolutely nothing to his name, to being flushed with an abundance of everything in that moment.

You were beaming, a brilliant smile outshining the flashy festival mask that you adorned. Levi...not so much. He gazed into the viewfinder with features hard but eyes delicate in a way that demonstrated he was putting up with your antics. The two of you were pressed into each other's sides as the decadent swirling of the wealthy framed your faces.

If you squinted closely, and looked past the grainy texture and into the background, one would be able to observe Hange swinging Moblit wildly in circles among the party-goers.

↞♞♘↠

“Why not?” You prodded, arms crossed in defiance at his rejection of your proposition.

“I’m not going to wear some gaudy mask that most likely has the sweat stains of hundreds of people on it.” Levi stated with sharp disgust. His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull when you began childishly tugging on the sleeve of his tailcoat.

That tailcoat was the precise reason why you desperately needed to get in line for this photo. It was hard enough to see Levi out of anything but his scouting uniform or his everyday combo of a long sleeved button down and trousers. Both options were easy on the eyes but tonight he looked ravishing. The tailcoat was expertly tailored and clutched the curve of his slim waist and the expanse of his toned arms close to the obsidian fabric.

He was always clean, but cleaned up -so to say-he was absolutely divine. You would never tell him this but his fox like beauty paired with the fancy dress endowed him with the grace of a prince.

“You don’t have to wear the mask! Although that would make it less fun…” You mumbled in a last ditch attempt, hoping he would take pity for you on this special occasion.

“Great now that we’ve established it’s not fun, let’s go get another drink.” He replied, unfazed and unwavered. He began turning towards the outer end of the ballroom where waiters danced with shining trays instead of partners.

“No!” You yelped, scampering as hurriedly as your heels would allow you to stand in front of him. Your chest was heaving in excitement for the extravagant evening (and by the walls was that corset tight). Your heels increased your already apparent height difference and made your very... perky breasts at eye level with his gaze. Levi coughed to rebuild his crumbling composure. He kindly reminded himself he was at a government sponsored event and that no matter how desperately he desired to let his eyes wander this was not the time and place.

“You said I look beautiful tonight, right?” You quipped with a pointed glare.

“Of course.” His lack of hesitation in his answer made the alcohol content in your blood skyrocket as you became drunk on him even more than you already had.

“Well if you would take 5 minutes to take this photo with me that’s 5 minutes until I’m willing to sneak out of here with you. Then you can see this beautiful gown on your chamber’s floor.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief akin to the iridescent pearls that were nestled into your ears.

Levi’s brow quirked in intrigue and you were a deer caught in the sly beams of his eyes.

“Fine.”

↞♞♘↠

“What a wonderful gala that was. I usually despise such events but I gotta examine you in person for the first time, no matter how brief our encounter was. I got to see my girl in such a lovely gown, and I got to absolutely feel Dot-”

“I don’t need a narrative.” Levi intercepted quickly with a sharp tinge of annoyance that sent Oma into a mess of snorts and laughter.

That strange sensation washed over him once more. The pleasantly warm bubble that made him feel like he was home but standing on the outskirts of the precipice all at once.

“Is that why we didn’t get to actually meet?” Levi trailed off as realization snapped him like a taut rubber band. While he was forced to blandly entertain the higher ups and delegates your grandmother was snogging a commander.

“Oh hush, you’re an adult, stop acting like a teenage boy.” She playfully chided with a glint in her eye that made Levi take step closer to that tempting bubbling feeling.

A gentle knock on the wood paneling caused Oma and Levi to raise their heads to meet Felicia’s gaze.

“I’m going to head home now, Frau Vogel.” She said with a tired smile as she poked her head around the living room archway.

“Damn, it really has gotten dark hasn’t it?” Oma mumbled as she took in the waning light.

“My dear, it’s much too late to be walking back by yourself. You can stay in your old room.” Her response was a medley of chastising and fondness.

“O-oh, no. I mean-how kind of you-but I don’t have a change of fresh clothes and these ones have bits of blood and schnitzel on them…” Felicia sighed with a whine. Oma was about to interject her dramatic behavior when Levi’s voice filled the space instead.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered, tone as smooth and calm as the golden liquid in his cup. He placed his cup on the saucer with a small clank and rose from the couch. Felicia bristled in bashful gratitude as he quietly padded over to the front door and began lacing his boots.

Oma gave Felicia a wink and nestled further into the couch, letting the cushions cradle her old bones and the aroma of the tea lull her into relaxation.

“The kitchen is clean, I folded all of the towels-” Felicia hurriedly explained when Levi held the door open for her.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Now off you go, I’ll come fetch you tomorrow.” Oma shooed the jittery girl out of the house with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, Felicia-” She interjected. The young woman poked her head back into the archway.

“If I hear one peep out of you about not paying you for looking after Y/N this next week I will have to start cooking the schnitzel myself.”  

Felicia gasped in betrayal as the fireflies that worshiped the porch flowers sent she and her companion off on their moonlit walk. The grit of shoes against the pebbled road took over the silence which Levi observed Felicia desperately wanted to fill. She seemed to feel pressure to speak, to offer something other than the emptiness of the countryside. Levi, on the other hand, was completely content with bathing in the blissful numbness of the cricket symphonies and the wind kisses of the path.

“How does our village compare to where you’re from?” Felicia barely overpowered the whistling of the grass with her slight tone. Her question was an innocent one. One with good intent that Levi didn’t dare spoil given the past two days of anguish.

“It’s...definitely more colorful.” He let the sweet air fill his tired lungs. He had seen a larger aurora of colors in these past 48 hours than he reckoned he had ever seen in his monochromatic existence. Going from the diluted underground to the emerald green seas and burnt brick of the walls didn’t leave much room for hue.

“So you’re from an urban area then?” Felicia continued, enthused that Levi had picked up her conversation.

“You could say that.” His reply was vague but left no room for further explanation. Truthfully, he felt as much from that festering tumor as a migratory bird feels for its winter home. It was where he was birthed, raised, existed . But he didn’t truly live until he rid his mouth of the dusted, stale air and crumbing ceilings of the underground.

Felicia’s mouth hung open with an incoming response when a screech erupted in its place. Levi grunted as she jumped sideways right into him, colliding into his sore shoulder. He just barely caught her as he staggered backwards. She stumbled against his chest before he propped her back up straight by her underarms.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked with an irritation he couldn’t restrain. Felicia’s bodyweight had punctured his shoulder with sharp needles that disturbed the dull hum of his pain.

“Oh walls, I’m so so SO sorry sir-I MEAN LEVI!” She babbled as she floundered to eject herself from his support so as to not burden him any more.

“I-I, something moved in the bush right next to me!” Felicia’s tone wobbled just as her legs did. Levi followed her trembling gaze and prepared himself for a feral dog or a wild boar. If it was anything bigger than that, like a bear, they were absolutely fucked.

The snort that erupted from the bush elicited another shrill scream from the maid. Levi’s muscles tensed in the realization that he would have to fend off the beast with his bare hands in his absence of weapons. He brought up a protective arm in front of Felicia when a pawing in the foliage neared the paved pathway. The thick anticipation mingled with the drumming of hearts was the soundtrack to the animal moving into the lamplight.

Levi’s muscles instantly relaxed. All except his chest. It shook with candid chuckles that materialized as a small hum and blossomed into a full blown laughter.

“Hello Big Shit.” Levi’s smile was radiant against the artificial lighting as Puddle aparated out of the bushes, his form now fully visible in the dim illumination. “He must have followed us.”

“B-big shhhh?” Felicia stammered, eyes wide with embarrassment. She was too polite to finish the last word.

Then he did it again.

He laughed so freely it put the crickets to shame. Felicia pursed her lips awkwardly and smoothed her nervous hands along her apron.

“He’s Y/N’s.” Levi cooed , reaching a delicate hand out to the horse and letting him press his plush nose to his knuckles. Felicia’s jaw went slack once more. She felt like she was regarding a completely separate individual she had previously been acquainted with. His cicada shell had been discarded on the path with the others and now only tenderness enveloped the man’s being.

“He is quite terrifying.” Levi teased gently as Puddle extended his neck to nuzzle hot breaths into his cheek. Felicia flushed at her overreaction. Levi turned from the horse to her with a glow that made her swear he was a tranquil forest spirit rather than the man who was walking her home. At her shock he immediately reigned himself back in, clearing his throat and partially crawling back into his cicada skin.

“If he’s followed us this far he’ll keep walking with us.” Levi said, the brief bloom of outward happiness coming to an end.

After a few minutes of only the comets’ luminous words trickling through the sky and the occasional snort, Felicia spoke up.

“It’s nice to see you happy.” She commented bashfully.

“It’s not like I haven’t been happy before.” He huffed, unsure of where to place her heartfelt compliment among the ever turbidness of his mind.

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just-I’ve never seen you smile before.” She cringed as she said it and Levi’s snort mimicked the horse behind them. He let her observation marinade under the moonlight.

“Happiness shows itself in different ways.” He mused and the corners of her lips upturned smally at her silliness.

“I just can’t imagine what you and Y/N have to go through.” She said with the careful articulation of a confession.

“D-did you see it happen?” She asked apprehensively. The nightmare scape tore through his cornea and implanted itself as if he was seeing it vividly again.

“No.” He exhaled.

The mass of flesh reeked of steamed rotted meat in the background of your shuddering form blanketed in torn cloth and soaked in sticky blood. His feet were caught in a time loop, too slow to reach you but too fast to wrap his mind around the potential discovery of your demise. His knees burned against the fabric of his trousers as they slid on the viscous ground to you. Your eyes were open wide and even though they were looking right at him, they went right through him like he was transparent against the skyline. The titan and you shared a bed of grass but by the walls not a resting place.

“But I saw the one that did it to her.” He continued as he blinked away the flash of mental scar tissue. “Her blade was lodged into its neck and it was bleeding profusely from its eye.”

Felicia winced at his description.

“She’s grown so strong.” Her whimper got lodged in her throat.

Little lanterns perched on the exterior of modest cottages floated into existence on both sides of the road as they neared Felicia’s neighborhood.

“How long have you known Y/N and Oma?” He asked to change the conversation for the sake of both their emotional turmoil. Felicia brightened up a bit at his term for her mistress.

“Since I was very young.” She smiled the weight right off of Levi’s shoulders. “My parents worked for Oma and her husband. I became Y/N’s babysitter or sorts, and by default many times Jean’s too, then the housekeeper to make some money.”

Levi recounted her reaction to the photo of Jean earlier and decided to attempt to lighten the mood like the wispy moss that dangled over their heads.

“Jean is single.” He revealed and eyed her in muted amusement for her reaction. Felicia turned beet red, the statement adding an extra sheepish pop to her step.

“O-oh, that’s hard for me to believe.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Really?” Levi replied without a drop or sarcasm. He understood why you put up with the boy because you had been friends for so long. But he would forever wonder how mentally stable the person who would willingly date him was.

Felicia gulped as his question hung out to try on the overarching maple branches.

“W-well, I mean-he’s funny, considerate, determined-”

“Determined to keep his long face up my asshole.” Levi finished her musings, dodging a moth as it flew too close to his nose. Felicia giggled at his half-assed insult.

“Determination, no matter what the kind, is a handsome quality.”

Levi hummed at her sincere answer. Her excitement over the boy rubbed warm circles into his chest. It reminded himself of his blooming feelings for you.

“When was the last time you saw him?” He asked as Felicia led him down a left fork in the road.

“Oh, a little less than a year ago? He and Y/N don’t get to come home a lot, you know.”

Their conversation was concluded in the middle of the road when Felicia halted in front of a beige cottage.

“This is me.” Her grin pushed up the apples of her cheeks and she cheesily pointed to the home. Levi nodded once and watched as she delicately climbed up the steps, deftly avoiding the garden rocks in the darkness until she reached her porch.

“Thank you for walking me here. You’ll be okay finding your way back?” She affirmed as she turned her key into the lock. Levi nodded once more and she breathed out a timid laugh.

“Alright, good night Levi.” She smiled sweetly.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Big...um.” She turned to Puddle and wrinkled her nose.

“Shit.” Levi finished with crinkled eyes.

“Sh...shit.” She blurted and danced in place as if she had uttered a tremendous sin. Levi waited until she was halfway inside when she surprised him by returning to his presence. She paused, the light emanating from the open door allowing them to see each other clearly. She threw him a genuine smile that made him feel naked in the pale night.

“You know, you fit in really well here.”

Levi twirled the circlets of metallic promises between his fingers as he let the warmth of this evening’s reactions carry him home.

Fuck, did he just think home ?

In such a short amount of time, these gardens of tulips and those that harvest them had uprooted the numbness he had trained himself to harbor. He’d now gotten a sickeningly sweet taste of life and it was going to be hard for him to not grow addicted to it. The rings began to feel too heavy for him to carry and he placed them securely back in his pocket as he neared the estate.

With Puddle contained for the moment, he tapped his dirtied boots against the doormat and stepped into the living room. His feet sank deep into the fertilizer as he looked upon Oma. She had fallen asleep curled into the sofa, her empty tea cup cuddled into her embrace and the photo album discarded on the adjacent cushion.

He felt oddly like an intruder as he gingerly released the cup from her grasp. Felt the peculiar stab of domestic alienation when he draped the crocheted blanket over her. This was what home was supposed to resemble. Not a sullen room with a single bed and a mother called upon only to come home a wilted flower with her petals torn. Levi was knee deep in the garden soil now and he dove further and further into the dirt every passing day he spent here.

He tiptoed up the creaky steps, shed your father’s clothes in exchange for more appropriate sleepwear, and gravitated to your room. The armchair screeched dully against the flooring as he brought it closer to your bed. And he allowed himself to dream of living for once instead of just existing.

You fit in really well here.

Morning arrived on the chaotic wings of angry sparrows and a pleasant plush heat on his back. Levi groaned as he felt his back scream at him for his hunched over position. He clutched the blanket to his body as he stretched out the kinks. He rubbed the fluffy material between his fingers as he groggily recalled that he definitely didn’t go to sleep with this. As he sat up a light fluttering fell to the ground from his shoulder. Looking to the floor he noticed a note. He bent down to retrieve it and held it close to his sandy eyes.

I let you sleep in today because you need it-don’t deny it.

I’m off to get Felicia and we’re stopping by the apothecary on the way home but we shouldn’t be too long.

Here’s a blanket.

You don’t want your body to be as cold as your heart <3.

Oma

Levi rested his head on his blanket covered palm, nuzzling into the softness as he sighed in mild contentment.

“I lied-I understand how the two of you are related.” Levi whispered lightly towards you, the sounds as airy as the birds tapping at the glass.

It was another beautifully scenic day dressed in another of your father’s outfits babysitting another kettle of tea. Levi peeked out the kitchen window and wondered if everyday in this countryside was euphoric. But rather than basking in the lovely weather he opted to spend his morning tea with the one whose absence left this house just short of paradise.

He was careful to not clank the tray around as he reentered your room and spread open the curtains. However, the moment his fingers pulled the fabric apart the little winged rats announced their presence rather aggressively.

“Fuck off.” Levi threatened with a flick to the glass. His finger came back coated in dust.

"Felicia is a fucking disappointment of a cleaner."

And so the morning was spent sipping on temporary relief and gazing at the embodiment of comfort in your bed until his cup grew vacant. His chair creaked with age as he abandoned his post to refill his energy source.

Time slowed as it did two days ago and it was a miracle he avoided burning his fingers. They froze on the hot kettle as he was electrocuted by a weak gasp.

“Lee-” A desperately familiar voice with the body of a crumb murmured. He whipped around to see his most treasured blend of colors open up into his being.

Conscious.

Looking at him.

Actually at him.

The china fell from his petrified fingers and hit the rug with a bounce.

“Le-vi”

#levi #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #Levi Heichou #Levi fanfiction #levi fluff #aot #snk #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #Jean Kirschstein #bisexual jean #levi/reader #hange zoe #aot fluff

[mishasminion360]

Space Age Love Song, Ch. 1

A Mandalorian x O/C Fic

Warning: Language

Notes: I’ve had this idea for awhile now and decided “why the hell not?” It’s been quite some time since I’ve written a full fledged fic, but I’m going to try to remain committed and complete this one. I already have a good idea of where I want it to go, so that’s a plus. Readers, you’re in for plenty of Mando romance, fluff, angst, action, and suspense. I hope you enjoy!

He crashed into her life like a falling star. The brightest star in the cosmos.

Ch. 1: Crash Into Me

The world was always a lonelier place at night. Rural Kansas appeared much more desolate in the dark; the roads and the land seemed to stretch on forever, both leading to nothing. The whistling of the evening breeze was the only voice to be heard for miles.

A half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand, Sara craned her head skyward to gaze at the stars. At most times, it seemed, they were her only friends. At least there were plenty of them to go around.

Her shift at the Hillsboro Community Hospital had been a grueling one this evening. She had just managed to drag her weary bones home a little more than an hour ago and already the night was creeping into day. Though exhausted, she’d suddenly found herself wired the second she’d pulled into her driveway at nearly 3 a.m. Now coming up on 4 in the morning, she downed the rest of her whiskey in hopes of calming herself long enough to drop into dreamland.

She had no reason to be awake so late, or early, rather. Sara had no one to pass the wakefulness with. The last of the only family she’d ever known had vanished from her life nearly a decade ago, leaving her with nothing but an old country house in the middle of nowhere that was far too big for a solitary woman such as herself. That house and memories.

There shouldn’t be any joy in the thought of coming home to an empty house. No happiness at the thought of eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone. But, as it began to happen more frequently, Sara came to realize that this rush of adrenaline she felt upon returning to her solitary homestead night after night was from the hope that she wouldn’t be lonely for long. One night she’d come home and there’d be someone worth coming home to. Someone waiting for her.

For now, though, Sara pulled herself to her feet, blinked the stars from her eyes, and prepared to head inside where she’d climb the stairs to her room and finally sleep the sleep of the dead.

She had just yanked open the finicky screen door when she heard a peculiar thoom! Her tired eyes returned to the sky to see that it was ablaze with light. A star, like a white hot ember, arced through the night, tumbling, tumbling down. So bright. So fast. So BIG.

That is not a star, she thought.

Sara watched the object’s decent with her heart in her throat. What if it was a meteor? Or a guided missile gone astray? Should she take cover? Would there be enough time? Would it even matter? The time she could’ve spent moving was lost to an endless string of “what if’s” playing on a loop inside her head, and by the time her brain managed to squeeze a logical thought about running into the mix, the object was crashing to earth in the field behind her barn.

She felt the impact from her porch; wobbled unsteadily on her feet as a tremor passed through the ground below. She could see the glow of flames in the distance. With the threat of a wildfire from space igniting the field beyond, with her house and all its memories in danger, she sprang into action.

Sara darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Then, opting to take the back door, she darted back out into the chilly pre-dawn and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward what she could only assume was Fox Mulder’s wet dream.

***

So, it definitely wasn’t a star. It wasn’t a meteor or a missile either. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for what she was seeing. It was in pieces and it was on fire, but even partially destroyed Sara could positively identify (having watched enough cheesy sci-fi movies with her gramps to do so) an alien ship when she saw one.

“What kind of Superman origin story bullshit is this?” she wondered out loud.

The flames licking at the wreckage weren’t too big, and the small extinguisher did the trick for the most part. The dented silver exterior was still smoldering in some places by the time the canister was empty. Tossing the empty red cylinder aside, she stood and stared at the UFO in a mix of wonder and fear as another round of incessant questions bombarded her brain. Should she call someone about this? Who the hell was she supposed to call anyway: the cops, a scientist, the news, or all of the above?

With a startling groan of metal and a hiss of pressurized air, a large door at the rear of the ship (or was it the front? She had no fucking clue) descended, assuming a new role as a ramp, or so it appeared. It was almost as if the ship were inviting her inside.

Sara took a moment to peer into the vessel’s dark innards, then shook her head. She’d seen enough Ridley Scott movies to know that going inside was a terrible idea. Blindly investigating a mysterious extraterrestrial ship is how people ended up dead or, at the very least, pregnant with an alien baby. She wanted no part in either one of those scenarios if she could help it.

The rationalist inside of Sara urged her not to take another step farther; practically shouted at her to turn around and run the other way. But the nurse in her wouldn’t, couldn’t allow her to abandon someone who might be aboard and may be hurt, human or...otherwise. Damn. Sometimes she felt like she’d chosen the wrong profession.

Taking a cautious step up onto the ramp, jumping a bit at the echoing of her own footsteps, Sara called out to the darkness.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

When she got only silence for a response, she decided to forge on ahead into the belly of the great metal beast.

“Okay, I’m coming in so please just...don’t eat me and keep your tentacles to yourself.”

The cavernous ship was as black as night. In the distance she could see lights blinking, like stars in the night guiding her way. Sara felt along the walls blindly and inched forward with small, cautious steps.

“If anyone is in here be warned. I do not like surprises and, so help me, if you jump out at me here in the dark I will punch first and ask questions later.”

As she drew closer to the flashing lights, she began to hear noise. What sounded like about five different alarms were blaring, but still nothing resembling a voice.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to rise by a foot and she stumbled at the sudden change in elevation. Her arms flailed dramatically as she desperately reached for something, anything to grab onto. Sara hit the ground hard and loud, her cry of surprise cut short as her head thumped against the cold floor.

Disoriented from the blow, she looked up and took in her surroundings with blurred vision. The alarms screamed at her from every direction, which was doing absolutely nothing to help her gradually building headache, and the lights blinked furiously in sync with the shrieking sirens. She could make out other objects now, what looked like buttons and knobs and levers and screens all illuminated by the incessant flashing of the warning lights. Damn her shit luck. Alone on this alien ship and she’d managed to stumble (literally) into the freaking cockpit. But where was the pilot?

Okay, maybe whatever had been flying this saucer never heard her, had no idea she was here. Maybe it was an unmanned craft. There was still a chance she’d make it out of this incredibly foolhardy endeavor alive. Stiffly and carefully Sara rolled onto her back, glanced up, and immediately screamed.

A face, or at least what she assumed was a face, more like a mask of some sort, peered down at her from above. Stifling another cry, she scrambled up to a sitting position and shinnied away until she felt her back hit wall. Even with that outburst, the creature didn’t appear to stir. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and vigilant observation, it didn’t appear that the alien was conscious.

Before she even realized she was doing it, Sara was on her hands and knees, creeping closer to where the sleeping being was collapsed heavily in what she figured to be the captain’s chair. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a man than a monster. A man (or a woman) encased from head to toe in a suit of shimmering silver armor. Hell, it could have been a robot.

Through the small t-shaped visor in the dome-like helmet Sara could see no traces of a face. She had no definitive way of knowing if the spaceman was truly slumbering or just waiting for her to get close enough to grab, and for a moment she hesitated to move any closer. But when she saw the small trickle of blood leaking from beneath the helmet and onto the right pauldron, her fear instantly vanished. Definitely not a robot; a living, bleeding person. RN powers activate!

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Sara gave the shiny helmet a light tap, trying to conjure a response. “Come on spaceman, spacewoman, are you with me? Wake up!”

His or her head rolled limply to the side as the blood continued to run. Unconsciousness following a vehicular (or spacecraftular) crash was never a good sign, but Sara couldn’t know for certain until she saw the source of the blood how bad the damage was. Gripping the helmet between her sweating palms she began to slide it upward carefully. Before she could even get it past the wearer’s chin, a hand reached up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her instantly. She flinched, in surprise rather than pain; their grip was unexpectedly gentle.

“Don’t-don’t take it off,” a very male voice stammered weakly. “You can’t...”

Sara was momentarily stunned. The alien spoke perfect English, and in a voice as soft as their grasp. She shook her head to reorganize her thoughts. This situation called for the utmost professionalism. When you’re a nurse, first impressions are everything. And she wasn’t representing just herself at this moment, but potentially the entire human race.

“Sir, I...it’s going to be alright, sir. I’m a nurse. I can help you, but I’ll need to assess the injury. I need to remove your helmet in order to-“

“Please...”

Sara had entered this ship expecting to find a monster ready to frighten her. What she’d never anticipated was that the monster could be just as frightened as she was. And that’s what she heard in the spaceman’s voice: fear. He was scared. Of her. And that’s when any remaining trace of her own fear vanished. She reached down and found one of his gloved hands and squeezed it gently in her own.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m going to help you. You’re safe.” With her other hand she caressed one side of his helmet and tried to imagine that she were stroking his own cheek. “You’re safe.”

He seemed to relax a bit under her touch, but that may have been from the second wave of sleep overtaking him. Sara released his hand, took a step back, took a deep breath, and began mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Dragging a snoozing spaceman all the way to the house was not going to be an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. As a nurse, she’d be damned if she’d let a patient, even an extraterrestrial one, die on her watch.

Sara slid her arms around the limp man’s chest and began the first chore: hoisting him out of the chair.

“Welcome to Earth.”

#the mandalorian #original work #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal

[mamahersh]

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 3

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore, torture)

Chapter rating: M

Back to BDubs and friends

Welcome back to my first attempt at Ethoslab angst! Time to find out why EvilX is being evil lol. Sorry again if any of the characters are OOC, though as stated on the box, EvilX is going to be fairly OOC. If y’all have suggestions or feedback, feel free to come and say hi!

P.S. I got my inspiration for this fic from this fic over here! Give them some love too.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

“ETHO?!”

BDubs was having a waking nightmare. He had to be. This was so far out of left field, he legitimately was having problems processing whatever this was.

Here he was, standing with Doc and Beef, watching a screen with their final NHO member beat to hell and back sitting in a chair next to EvilX. Not only that, but Xisuma himself had been acting so weird up till now, and now he seemed to be just as confused as the rest of them. He could hear Iskall and Grian already going off on Xisuma (which honestly he would normally be over there right along with them), but from the looks of it, Xisuma seemed to have no idea what he just did. Which was a whole thing to unload later, because right now he didn’t like what he was seeing on the screen. 

To start, Etho didn’t have his mask on. BDubs had never seen Etho without his mask, never. He knew Beef had more than likely seen Etho without it, but that was one of those things all the Hermits had never brought up. You just didn’t ask Etho to take off his mask, and he never removed it. Also, BDubs was absolutely horrified to realize that not only was Etho chained to the chair with cuffs that looked like they were spiked inside the cuffs, but he also had stakes in his arms to keep them completely immobile. Plus, Etho was still conscious, though how much so was difficult to discern from the TV alone. And they had no idea where Etho was. They didn’t know where Etho was, and they were about to watch him probably get even more hurt. BDubs was about to pop a blood vessel, mark his words. 

“Beef. Beef, we don’t know where Etho is,” pleaded BDubs to the open air as he continued to stare at the screen. He felt a solid hand on his left shoulder, and a slightly leafy one (as only creepers could have) on his right.

“We know BDubs,” replied Beef, gripping onto the shorter one in a vague hope to comfort them both. “God, I know.” Doc gave a quiet hiss of agreement, clawed grip a bit too tight to be comfortable.

While the Hermits devolved into chaos, EvilX had stood patiently beside his captive till in a brief lull in shouting he called out, “HERMITS!” Suddenly, the group was silent, all members anxiously awaiting his words. “I hope you are all doing well in your various business ventures, but we have called you together today for an important step in my business empire!” BDubs could not let this stand.

“OY!” Suddenly every eye was turned to BDubs. EvilX looked stoic as always, expression impossible to see beneath his mask. The rest of the hermits were in various states of confusion and worry. “Now you listen HERE, you… you OAF! What do you think you’re trying to pull?! This isn’t a business deal, you’re holding Etho hostage and- !!!” Suddenly he was cut off by a worried looking Doc covering his mouth.

“Please BDubs, just a bit longer… we need to find out why first,” mumbled Doc.

“I-I must agree with BDoubleO, EX.” There was Xisuma, finally speaking up. “What you’re doing here most assuredly doesn’t seem like a business deal.”

EvilX chuckled as he placed a hand on Etho’s head and gripped his hair. “Oh, I assure you all, this is a business deal. A very pivotal one as well.” Evil X gestured grandly as he spoke with his free hand. “You see, Derpcoin has hit a plateau. A major roadblock if you will. Some of it is due to inaccessibility in the markets, you know who you are who don’t allow Derpcoin in your shops.” Here EvilX paused, the mild grandiose gesturing stilling to allow him to give a meaningful stare at the camera. Then he continued. “I tried peaceable means of convincing you all to use Derpcoin. In fact Etho here was having productive discussions with us about potentially expanding into Iskall’s prismarine business.” BDubs glanced at Iskall to see a conflicted expression on his face. “But, he had his doubts, and so he was planning on going the route of Boatem.” The air became tense as the Hermits waited with baited breath for the inevitable. The Boatem Crew in particular looked ill-at-ease, Grian’s feathers fluffed and Mumbo looking like an anxious puppy beside him. “So in response, I decided to enact a new plan for Derpcoin expansion. If you all do not accept Derpcoins in your markets:” EvilX suddenly pulled at Etho’s hair, lifting his head at an awkward angle and digging the spikes in the collar into the back of his neck. He barely let out a whimper. “I’ll make an example of Ethoslab.”

Understandably, the Hermits burst in furious bickering, not the least of which was the Boatem crew arguing heatedly amongst themselves. BDubs wanted to yell and scream; preferably at EvilX, though Etho was a close second. What he would yell at Etho for was undetermined, but he was ready to give someone a very loud series of rebukes. However, all 3 of the remaining NHO members had in one way or another ceded to EvilX’s Derpcoin cult. They had heard about Boatem being a diamond exclusive economic zone, but never in their wildest dreams had they thought this would be the end result of any of their choices. To be honest, BDubs now felt dirty accepting Derpcoin. If this was what it meant to use it, he wanted no part of it. But now, not allowing Derpcoin would lead to EvilX doing something terrible to Etho.

“Well Hermits? Will you allow Derpcoin in all your markets?” Seemed like EvilX had become impatient with them. And now all the server was staring directly at the Boatem crew because they all knew who it was EvilX wanted a response from. Mumbo, who was the most nervous, yet also CEO of their megacorp, was pushed to the front of their group. He stuttered for a few moments, looking just as terrified and lost as everyone else in the group was feeling.

But before Mumbo could say anything, they could hear Etho say, “D-don’t do it.” EvilX slowly turned his head towards Etho.

“Would you like to repeat that Ethoslab?” Never had BDubs felt so helpless. It was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion, knowing that at least one person would die in the process but there was not a single thing he could do to change it.

EvilX slowly let go of Etho’s hair, and went back to crouching, though now slightly to the side so the camera could see everything that they both were doing. Etho, meanwhile, glared at EvilX the entire time, and finally huffed out, “they shouldn’t do it.” EvilX didn’t do anything, so Etho kept going. “You and I both know there’s more t-to this than what you’re asking.” BDubs could see how nervous Etho was, how his hands spasmed and the rest of him was set more still than stone. BDubs could also see that EvilX had a knife in his hand, and he looked about ready to use it. 

“Etho!” BDubs shouted, and lurched at the screen in a failed attempt to stop the inevitable. Just as he called out, EvilX stabbed down into the meatiest part of Etho’s thigh, and left the knife there. Etho threw his head back and grit his teeth, moaning through them as he seemed to adjust. The rest of the assembled Hermits let out various noises of shock and dismay; a particularly angry screech came from Cleo, and BDubs could hear Doc angrily hissing to himself behind him.

“Let that be a lesson,” said EvilX, standing back up and turning back to face the camera. “Now, with no further interruptions,” he took a moment to turn his head back towards Etho in a meaningful gesture. “I would like your answer.”

BDubs felt his heart sink as he watched a furious flurry of whispers start up in the boatem group again while Mumbo looked uncharacteristically serious beneath all the anxiety. Mumbo pushed out from the group, though Grian latched onto his suit jacket; whether for moral support or to try to pull him back in was unclear to BDubs. “We have an answer for you.” BDubs felt Beef come back beside him to grip onto his shoulder. “We…” Everyone seemed to hold their breath, or maybe that was just him. “... will NOT accept Derpcoin as a legitimate form of currency in our shops.” He felt his breath leave him. His feelings were mixed up in a boiling stew, though if he had to pick a predominant one, it would have to be dread. “We can’t justify allowing the use of alternate forms of currency until there is a transparent, stable conversion rate between them and diamonds; as well as a way to easily convert the currency to diamonds. If people on the server want to use derpcoins at our shops, they should be able to exchange them for diamonds so that we are all aware of the actual value they are using in our shops.” Mumbo deflated a bit after he had said his piece, almost seeming to fall back into Grian’s white knuckled grip on his suit. They all knew that he had doomed Etho. BDubs could feel Beef behind him getting tenser, and he thought that if he looked behind, he’d see the rage building on the alien face.

“He did not just sacrifice Etho for his shopping district,” muttered Beef from behind. “He absolutely did not just sacrifice Etho to guarantee a profit for his fucking mega-corp.” BDubs heard a whirr of machinery, and Doc hissing behind him, “Beef, you know why he did it. Etho himself didn’t want them to give in to EX’s demands.”

“That doesn’t make it right, though!” angrily whisper-screamed Beef.

“Will you two just drop it?!” exclaimed BDubs, turning around to them both. Doc and Beef both looked mildly shocked and embarrassed. “There are bigger things we gotta deal with, like trying to save Etho from whatever horror show EvilX has cooked up right now!”

A sudden laugh from the screen shut him down however, as EvilX faced the camera. “Oh please. By the time you find me, I will already be done! But how about a challenge then?” EvilX gestured at the surrounding stone on his end of the screen. “I shall give you an x coordinate, and you can have Etho back once you find him! However, at least one of you has to stay back and watch, and I’ve messed with the respawn mechanics. Now, you respawn where you die, and you only come back with two hearts. I think you can connect the dots. And remember, I am doing this, because the kiddie gloves are off. You forced my hand. I would never have done this if you had just accepted Derpcoin when I offered it to you.”

“And now,” with a flourish, EvilX brought up his communicator and typed a quick command into it. “You can find me at x=537.” 

BDubs frantically tried to remember coordinates, but his usual estimations were falling through his brain like sand through his fingers. “Say, that’s not too far from our base!” called out Stress, Tay and False nodding along beside her. “We could start at my base and work out from there perhaps?” Suddenly it seemed like every hermit was piping in. 

“I’m fairly certain the Goatem Pole is by those coordinates!” called out Impulse.

“My base is nearby as well!” called out iJevin.

“Our base is along that axis as well!” called out Cleo, Joe looking ill-at-ease beside her, though nodding along.

“Fucker couldn’t make it easy, could he?” mumbled Beef, glaring intently at the screen. It’s a point somewhere along the longest axis of the island with the most players situated along it, realized BDubs a moment too late. It would take them hours to search along that x coordinate.

“I’ll stay,” called Mumbo, an odd mixture of sheepish and serious sounding. “It was my choice that put Etho into this situation, so I will stay to see the consequences of my actions and be with him the best way I can be.” Here Mumbo looked fully ashamed. “Plus, I will be the first to admit I am not good at finding my way around, muchless finding a hidden bunker.”

“I’ll stay with you,” stated TFC from the opposite end of the crowd. “I’m not in my prime anymore, so I would be best with those staying behind with Etho.”

“I’ll help with the search,” said BDubs, unable to contain himself any longer. He wanted, no needed, to find Etho, and the only way he could do that would be to go with the search group.

And after a bit more haggling, the groups were divided up as to who would stay, and who would go.

Going was the gals, BDubs, iJevin, the Boatem Crew minus Mumbo and Scar, Beef, Ren, Horsehead Farms, and Welsknight

Staying was TFC, Xisuma, Mumbo, Scar, Joe, and Doc.

With that, BDubs and the rest of the search party shot off, plan set up and in motion; and all BDubs could do was hope they wouldn’t be too late.

#bdouble0 #ethoslab #docm77 #vintagebeef #Mumbo jumbo #nho #boatem crew #the hermits #hermitcraft #evil xisuma #xisuma #blood #gore #graphic depictions of violence #torture

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And today is the day we power through the rest of chapter 3! The last three pages have been living rent free in my head since I first saw them, and by god I’m gonna fucking ramble on those as much as my brain allows - but first I need to get there. Well, I know there are more fantastic Izuku faces along the way, so I suppose I can live.

[No. 3 - Entrance Exam]

God, that’s an actual small city, what the fuck UA, how do you afford this? Izuku is trembling from nerves (and exhaustion, you can still see the eyebags on him). A picture of the crowds around him:

So there’s Shouji and Aoyama, along with Uraraka, and we know Iida’s here too, so that’s a fourth of 1a in the same arena. We also have the featured extras (right to left): Beaker (The Muppets), High School PE Teacher, MSPA Reader (Homestuck), Big Meaty Elbones, The Pompadour to Pierce The Heavens, and Slenderkid.

(Yes, before you ask, I will be giving all the extras names in the spirit of Bakugou.)

But yeah, Izuku notes everyone’s confidence and the gear that goes with their quirks, and then he notices Ochako, who is getting herself into the zone. He tries to shakily make his way over to thank her, but Tenya comes in again and stops him, telling Izuku that she’s meditating and wondering if Izuku’s there to interfere, which of course freaks out Izuku. 

Engineer (TF2) recognizes him and calls him out:

Hello Aoyama, yes we see you looking at the camera, good to know that’s not an anime-only thing. And that looks like proto-Tokoyami, who does appear to be the actual one next time we see him, so that’s six members of 1a in one zone. But yeah, everyone considers themselves lucky, which seems a bit silly when he’s just one out of, what was the number again? 1550 students per cityscape? I suppose this is something future Izuku is narrating, so maybe that’s just how he felt about it. 

Anyways, the call to begin goes out, with everyone going ‘hmm?’ all at once in confusion. They all look up to the top of… what the fuck?

How fucking tall is that building?? When the cities are this big??

Is there an atmosphere up there? Is he halfway to low earth orbit? What the fuck UA. (Also poor Izuku, so many nerves.) 

By the time Izuku catches on and turns around, the rest of the crowds have already gone off, including Ochako, Tenya, Tokoyami, and the extras Pompadour, Dudley Dursley, High School PE Teacher, Knock-Off Pussycat, and Skull Mask. He panics and starts running after, telling himself to calm down, that it’s fine, that he’s meant to do this, even as the crowds get further ahead of him.

We then flash back to the beach, with this fantastic face:

Hahaha poor kid. Izuku mentions he doesn’t feel himself transforming, and All Might laughs and notes that it needs time to digest and that he’ll feel it in a few hours. Izuku is flailing with nerves as he walks off, thinking about getting home for a shower and breakfast; All Might calls out to him, telling him that he might be a proper vessel, but he was put together in a hurry, and hasn’t had time to get used to the power, so prepare for kickback. He says there’s no time for a detailed explanation, and so we then zone back into the present as his words echo in Izuku’s head, saying that when using OFA, to ‘clench your butt and let your heart cry out, saying…’

Before it’s cut off with a one pointer crashing out in front of Izuku, literally - you can see the wall debris flying away. 

Yeah, me too. The one-pointers are noted to be quirk but fragile while the robot that it’s target locked on him. Izuku sees it coming, but he can’t move and his body is shaking from the instinctive terror. He chastises himself, calling himself an idiot as he tears up-

And a laser slices through the bot, Aoyama giving the quick save. He thanks Izuku for the assist, but that he doubts they’ll meet again, giving Izuku a sparkly wink as he zooms off. Present Mic then announces six minutes left, and Izuku starts to panic and think about how bad the situation is. 

We see him take in the situation around him:

Yup, that’s definitely Tokoyami, and who might that dark-haired person be close to the middle?

Yup, a discord friend pointed out that that’s Kirishima! So that’s no less than seven members of class 1a in the same battle zone! And considering how Ashido and Kirishima were in the same school and her name comes before his, like Katsuki’s comes before Izuku, I wouldn’t be surprised to know she’s in Katsuki’s battlezone. 

(Imagine if all of 1a, sans the recommendation duo, were either in Katsuki or Izuku’s battle zones. The sheer odds of that happening…)

But yeah, Ochako is up to 28 points, Tenya to 45, and Eijirou to 32, all while Izuku realizes there are barely any enemies left. He’s freaking out, tearing up, and you can see just how fucking exhausted he is. 

We shift over to the ‘teacher commentary’, where we can see Midnight and Thirteen in the back, and then Vlad, Cementoss, and presumably other teachers in front of and to the sides of them. They note how a wide battlefield with limited time brings out the best in the applicants - intelligence gatherers (featuring Shouji), mobility experts (Tenya), decision makers (Aoyama), and natural born warriors (Katsuki). The abilities the students need to preserve peace are judged by their points.

They note that that year has a bumper crop, but that that’s not confirmed yet, as they push the big button labeled ‘Yaruki Switch’. Which unleashes massive, multistory robots into the battle centers (and where the fuck were they hiding???)

Yeah, me too, kids. Izuku thinks that that’s way too big to be a ‘gimmick’. It punches down into the street with a massive blow, sending wind and debris everywhere, and the other students run while Izuku is sitting there, frozen in terror. Tenya runs past him with barely a glance, while the teachers’ commentary continues - people show their true colors when faced with the zero pointer.

Izuku is in tears and yelling at himself as he picks himself up to run. He knows he has to get away while also getting points, but he’s still stuck at zero, and believes this’ll all be for nothing. 

And so we get to the pages that have taken rent-free residence in my head for days now:

God just. The composition, the entire change in his thought process and demeanor because someone was in danger, the fucking smashing blow and the power behind it, everyone else’s reactions to him oneshotting the monstrosity, and that ominous ending, with Toshinori grinning while the narrative notes that Izuku’s current score is zero.

I’m just going to paste in my gushing from discord, to be clear how I feel about all this:

And no, I’m not particularly ashamed of all the gushing or the images or how much I repeat myself. I’m still feeling a whole lotta things from these pages and like. Jesus fuck if I wasn’t already in this fandom, I would be now.

#chapter 3 #opening arcs #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #yagi toshinori #aoyama yuuga #god I just #fucking love those last three pages so much #I cannot begin to describe the feelings they evoke in me #way more emotions than the anime ever did #god comics class did not prepare me for this #nothing did #oh my god #i've been on a spiritual journey and obtained enlightenment

[hazbincalifornia]

Even if the story was going into the “I’m a surrogate for his kid, I’ll pop them out and then be a friendly uncle figure” route he would’ve so changed his mind immediately or soon after the birth I bet, it’d be painful to part from the baby and he wants more time

Birth hurt like a bitch, a son of a bitch, and anybody else down the bitch line that felt like getting lippy about it being any kind of ‘miracle’. 

The little brat started wailing their head off as Blitzo slumped back on the hospital bed, covered in sweat and blood and probably piss at this point as they snipped off the cord that kept it sucking off him, vampire-style. Good fucking riddance.

“Oh, Blitzy...” Stolas’s voice was hushed, awash with a kind of awe that usually was reserved for sunsets or the final big blow-out of a fireworks display or Blitzo himself going ass-up. He groaned, hips feeling sort of like some bratty kid had started dragging their puberty claws along the blood vessels of the bone- which wasn’t an inaccurate summation, honestly.

“Just... get it out of...” Blitzo blinked as a towel-wrapped little ball of fluff was placed in his arms. It was definitely still wet, but the doctor had dried it off just enough that he could see the markings on its face. Its eyes were squeezed shut, and a tiny imp-like tail brushed against his wrist. When it yawned, its beak revealed a pink tongue. 

“Look at her...” Stolas’s smile was softer than anything, and he practically radiated light as he brushed away the cluster of back feathers on her forehead. “It’s just like yours.”

“I don’t have feathers.”

“You do have a mark there, though, a lovely little heart.” Stolas’s finger continued to trace down over the mask-like white markings. “The color’s all yours. She’s perfect.”

Her eyes fluttered open, the scleras Stolas’s rich red but the irises a golden color, more like the one that filled Blitzo’s. An inversion of his own red irises and yellow sclera, in fact. He swallowed as she let out a little ‘ah!’ and shifted in the towel before there was a nudge against his palm. She was trying to wiggle a hand out, and mesmerized, Blitzo pulled back the towel for her. A black hand wrapped around his pinky finger.

She laughed a little, and it sounded like a heart breaking.

Stolas waited a heartbeat before standing up and trying to pull her away. “I... I suppose we should go.” 

Blitzo clung tighter. “Wait, what?”

“You insisted, didn’t you?” Stolas looked down. “On only visiting. We can set that up later, but your part of the deal is... complete, if you wish it to be. You’ve done well. I’ll let you go back to how things used to be, just full moons. I won’t even tell her to call you Daddy, if you don’t want.”

Blitzo’s eyes dropped back down to the squirming newborn, and she looked back up at him. She squeezed his finger again.

“Can we re-negotiate?” 

#this one turned out different than I was planning it to but I like it anyway #ot spinoff #helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo #asks #anonymous #shadow writes stuff

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Shut You Out

90’s Punk!Michael x Non-Binary Reader  -  1626 Words  -  Part 1 of 1

Notes: This was written for @sadistmichael‘s Michael Week! The title comes from my favorite Black Flag song (i know it’s not from the 90s but it’s a vibe). Shout outs to @sexgodashton, @cheekysos for helping me workshop this! It loosely connects to my other 90′s AU Fic which you can read here!

Warnings: Cigarette and alcohol usage, unprotected semi-public sex in an outdoor setting, instances of knife play, rough sex, and a lip piercing. 

“Someday we'll all be rich/ Someday I won't listen to you bitch/ I'll turn up the volume (and shut you out)” -Black Flag “Fix Me.”

The hum of the basement sent shockwaves through your veins. The music was alive. It was raw, real, and hypnotic. The DIY t-shirts our front had been up for grabs. They had the handwritten name of the night’s second act and you were more than happy to pull one on. The punk group’s lead vocal and guitarist made your mouth run dry and your knees want to buckle. Michael was an unwitting icon in the fight against commercialization and the bastardization of music. They hated the way the world was turning people into profit, they hated how people like you were treated- and their endless supply of fight left you breathless.

The flash of metal when Michael sang helped too, the piercing had featured in one too many of your own daydreams- and now you couldn’t keep your eyes off it or him. You watched every stroke of his fingers across the strings, hypnotized by how effortlessly they appeared to find their targets. His body moved with all the intoxicating power of his music’s genre and each time his hand wrapped around the microphone you imagined it pressing against your throat.

There were moments while you were screaming along and dancing, where you felt his eyes on you too. The way your body moved was equally as mesmerizing and there was something absolutely sinful about how the DIY shirt clung to your torso. 

Through the smoke and sweat haze of the overcrowded basement, his eyes found yours. Your already flushed face felt hotter as Michael winked at you and licked his lips, his piercing peaking out. 

The lyrics roared through the basement, the screaming guitars and firecracker drums bounced off the cement in a strange battle cry that had everyone out of the corners moving, and screaming. Your mind was still replaying the image of Michael gripping the mic and licking his lips as the music ended. By the time their set ended everyone in the audience had been transformed by the music and shared that ‘just been fucked’ look, their already disheveled aesthetics further unraveled with sweat. Your throat stung and your body felt supercharged looking to fight, fuck, or both. 

Unable to catch your breath you stumbled upon the stairs and around the back of the house. You leaned against the siding and closed your eyes focusing on that first inhale of smoke. The Pacific Northwest night was cold, the rainfall wasn’t expected to start until the next morning and for now, the world around you was at peace despite the riot inside your mind.

You opened your eyes and saw Michael standing near the backdoor lighting a cigarette of his own. You unconsciously licked your lips watching him. Something about him felt magnetic as if some secret part of you was linked to some secret part of him and refused to be denied any longer. 

“That was a really great show,” you called over to him, fighting your urge to cringe at the awkward platitude.

Michael laughed dryly, freely letting his eyes roam over your body as he approached. 

“You come to these things often?”

You shook your head, “my friend’s band played before you,” you grinned and gestured to the homemade shirt you now wore, “but I guess you could say I’ve been converted.” 

Michael cocked an eyebrow, “converted? Does that mean I get to tell you what to do?” For a moment you noticed the bright color of his eyes before his pupils turned black and intense. The change made your mouth run dry. 

“You’ll just have to try-” you whispered, sliding against Michael, looping your arms over his denim jacket and around his neck. He tasted like sickly sweet copper, cigarettes, and salt- a deadly combination that you instantly craved more of. You let Michael walk you back against the side of the house until you were pressed together. 

The kisses had turned into desperate gnashing of teeth and tongues that left you devastatingly excited when he broke the kiss. Michael panted against your cheek, his hands thickly running over the shirt that read his name. It stretched across your chest tightly the peaks of your nipples teasing him from behind the fabric and he was getting impatient. 

“Can I take this off?” Michael tugged harshly on the shirt and you nodded through the sex-fueled haze. 

He deftly slid a pocket knife out of his jacket and slashed down the front of your shirt before the lusty strangled gasp fell from your lips.“ Oh, you liked that,” he crooned mockingly, pressing you into the wall with his hips, “let’s see what else you like.” He teasingly pressed the flat side of the blade against your collar bone, eagerly drinking up the noises you made at the cool sensation.

Michaels hands now explored your body openly, his mouth often trailing behind as the shirt flashed between movements. The fire was growing too strong between you. In a passionate play of hands and knives and the resounding sound of metal- your pants were pushed to the ground and Michale’s moved down his thighs. You eagerly wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted and pressed you into the wall, his growing erection pressing against you teasingly.

His hands clawed over your exposed shoulders and down your back pulling you closer and pushing deeper through your arousal. The scents of cheap beer, cigarettes, sex, and rock’n’roll made your head spin and your knees weak. Your head fell back against the cool siding, a fervent moan escaping your lips as his mouth and bit kissed down your neck.

The trail he left behind flushed pink and then blood-red as the tiny blood vessels burst like fireworks under your skin. His tongue piercing added a stark contrast as he soothed the marks, all while tightening the knot of pleasure growing in your core.

His thrusts scraped your back against the wall, the pain sending shocks of pleasure down your body. He was bigger than you had anticipated and the slight stretch burned deliciously through your body. Michael’s pace was relentless, rocking yourself out your body into the wall bruises blooming across your skin.

Your whines and moans echoed into the night, and down in the basement, another band started. The music reverberated through the house and you felt the dull thrum start again, thankful for the growing noise as you screamed through your climax. Michael’s thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, each movement overstimulating your sensitive body. 

He shuddered and moaned sinfully as he came, the sound driving you crazy. The blissed-out moment ended time quickly as the clang and stutter of the side screen door echoed around the house. 

Michael swore and carefully set you back on your feet. The both of you shuffled pants back up as footsteps approached.

“Hey!” You said elbowing him pointedly gesturing at the tattered shirt you had been wearing. 

A wolfish grin spread across his face, “what’s wrong sugar? You look great without it.”

You cocked an eyebrow giggling lightly as he handed you his patchwork jacket, which kept the cold out quite nicely. Michael swallowed thickly at the sight of you, easily backing you against the wall for a kiss, teasingly darting his hands under the jacket and around your waist. 

He was about to make a comment about how you almost wore it better than him when another couple stumbled around the corner. They smelled like they were drunk or high, and giggled excessively upon seeing the other couple already there. 

“Sorry, mate didn’t see ‘ya there,” called the blonde who towered over the person in front of him. Even in the partial light you recognized your friend and tried to hide behind Michael. 

Michael laughed again, a dry sound that masked the sound of his ignored belt refastening. “No problem, we were finishing up,” he said with a smirk before quickly walking back to the house, exposing you to your friend. 

They exaggeratedly grinned at you, “nice threads, whaddya do for ‘em?” 

You rolled your eyes at the joke, “nothing you haven’t… d’ya have a light?” 

They nodded and handed you a cigarette, before nodding over to their companion. “Think I should take him home?” You laughed around your cigarette and pretended to carefully inspect her newest prospect. 

“Well, he’s got that starry-eyed golden retriever look going for ‘em. The black nails are a nice touch though. But I’d have to say, uh-“ 

“Luke,” they offered you helpfully.  

“Luke,” you said nodding, “might be fun for a bit.” 

“That’s funny I was just thinking that about,” they said nodding towards Michael. 

“Michael,” you said grinning. 

You both giggled looking between the two and you were happy to see Michael lingering near the side of the house. Although he had a cigarette smoldering in his hand you hoped it was because of you. 

“I think,” your friend said giggling again, “we should share.” 

You laughed openly and shook your head before unconsciously clenching your jaw finally feeling the burning soreness in your thighs. You held the denim jacket tight over your body to keep the cold off your skin, greedily breathing in Michael’s distinct scent. You stomped out the end of your cigarette and smiled at your friend before wishing them good luck. 

You walked away and then turned to walk up the stoop, almost stumbling when Michael grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. He wrapped his arm around your waist under the jacket that was his, causing gooseflesh to spread across your skin. He held you close to him again and you felt his hot breath on your face, “if you’re not too busy,” he said licking his lips teasingly flashing the metal piercing, “I’m not done with you yet.”

#rpf #michael2020 #oneshot #michael x reader #5sos #smut

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy gets all upset under the evening sky

whitmore guy masterlist

word count: 2284

warnings: language

notes: welcome back the Winchester brothers

music: lost without you by blink-182, PRINCESS by lil peep, articulate silences, pt 1 by stars of the lid

He had four hours before work so he dropped by at home, took a shower and changed. After that, he called the FBI guys and met with them at the coffee shop not far away from the college.

He was a bit unhappy about how badly those two pretended to be with the Bureau. They had no idea Mal Osbourne had been the one who tipped them off about the weird shit going on in Mystic Falls. But he still felt as if they’re set adamant on letting him down and had to work a lot not to snap at them. Kai was a good actor, these two hunters were not; but from what he’s heard, they’re good at killing things.

This whole section of the plan was sheer fucking circus.

 “Wrestler”, who looked like a worried seal all the time, had his little notebook with him again. "Reddington”, crashed by the early hour, was swollen and unhappy as he consumed one cup of coffee after another. They both smelled of disappointment. One of the perks of being an extra-perceptive vampire was that you could smell all these things. For example, Kai could sense their blood running under skin, untasty for him, but still with a hint of familiar sweetness. And the way it was sweet told him they had the same blood. Which meant these two idiots were brothers. Kai was having fun as he watched them sit there, pulling their masks tightly on their miserable faces.

“Have you seen those poor people from yesterday?” he asked.

Reddington winced, swallowing a big sip of coffee, showing him it was way too early. Wrestler just nodded.

“I haven’t looked at them too closely, but I’m sure they were drained of blood, just like the first group of people”, Kai put his elbows on the table and gave them his concerned face.

“What bothers me the most though… is that, I think, if there were more people in the house, he’d kill more”.

Wrestler stopped his fidgeting with a pen and stared him down.

“He? Are you… do you have an idea about who did it?”

Kai shifted on his chair and brought his hand to his chin.

“Well, you guys… let’s come clean, right? As a newcomer, I’m not overly happy about this town. And I see things exactly the way you see them. You’re not FBI, are you?” he whispered, leaning forward a little and giving them both meaningful eye.

The brothers followed his thought like two hunting dogs. He could see their phantom sharp ears go up with caution. He was assessing how much fuckery would be allowed until they figure him out.

“Go on”.

“Why don’t you tell me first what you think about this place, and then I’ll give you a cold or a hot. I don’t wanna seem crazy”.

Reddington tapped the spoon on the table, and the two guys exchanged looks.

“Well, Mal, just tell us what you think. Believe us when we say we keep hearing crazy things every town we go to, there’s nothing you can surprise us with”.

“It’s adorable how you say ‘we’. Are you guys dating?”

Reddington threw himself back in the chair and pierced him with bright green eyes. Kai could tell that uptight dude hates him so much.

“We’re brothers”, the seal replied calmly.

“Ow. You don’t look alike at all”.

“Mister Osbourne, why don’t you tell us what you think?”

Kai sighed.

“I think this place is infiltrated with vampires”.

Their faces stayed stone calm. Homophobic one looked a bit annoyed.

“Who else knows about it?” Wrestler finally asked. Kai’s face lit up:

“I’m right? You believe me?”

The hunter interlocked his fingers and looked at his own hands before muttering,

“It’s kind of our job…”

“I knew you weren’t with FBI. You’re the worst FBI agents I’ve ever seen in my life”.

Reddington pouted and looked at his brother.

“Mal, how do you know about vampires?”

“I’ve been hanging out with Y/N, that girl who works at the welfare department…”

“Yeah, we remember her”.

“And she’s friends with these Salvatore brothers. Who are like, big thing for Mystic Falls”.

“It’s one of the founding families, right?” the seal helped, and started writing in his notebook again.

“I think so. Anyway, she’s really hooked up on them, she says they have history together… I don’t know much, but when we were at that bar… when people started going crazy… I think I saw several of them tear people’s like… bones and flesh apart. Damon Salvatore”, he fell on the table, plastering both his hands on the cold wood, “ripped the heart out of my girlfriend’s chest. That’s not what normal people do. And then I went to the library…”

He nearly cracked right then and there, and had to pretend there was something in his throat. LIBRARY. Kai coughed politely into his fist.

“And I found that book on the town’s history. They’re in pictures from 1864”.

There was a dramatic pause.

“Something tells me you’ve seen those pictures, too. Who are you?”

Kai started chewing on a toothpick vigorously, showing that he’s very anxious.

“Are you like, hunters? Can you kill these things?”

Reddington pushed his empty coffee cup away. He finally reached the stage in which he was able to work.

“How many vampires? Do you know their names?”

Kai licked his lips impatiently.

_______________________________________________

After their coffee-breakfast he still had two hours before work started. The morning was on, and the sky was very warm, so Kai walked to the college, looking around, enjoying the world, listening to birds and smiling at people. Several days ago he had a breakdown, so he was still in his energetic phase, the blissful alleviation that floods one’s mind after it realizes there’s nothing to lose.

Every morning he reminded himself of his own name, but it wasn’t his own oblivion he was afraid of. What he really feared was that he wouldn’t want, or wouldn’t need to be Kai Parker anymore. Kai Parker was everything he had for forty-three years, and then he met her. She stripped him away of his loneliness, of his agony. She took away and consumed all his pain. She was the pain consumer. She ate it like he eats vampires now. And everything that made him strong, together with everything that made him evil, died when he helped her survive, again and again. But when Damon threw him into Malivore… it returned. He was on his own, alone with Kai Parker again, trying to escape that guy, adopting a new name, and he kind of remembered he loved being Malachai. What now? Kai could laugh in his face, he could torture him, remind him of everything, and he couldn’t oppose him in any way. Mal didn’t have childhood, he didn’t have family. No past, no memories, no superpowers. No coven. Kai Parker held all his weight against Mal Osbourne knowing she won’t come to rescue this time. She won’t hold his head on her lap, caressing his hair, she won’t say, you are good, Kai. She doesn’t know any guys named Kai. And Damon Salvatore will pay for it even if it kills them both, even if it kills the whole town, even if it kills the whole world.

What’s his place then? Where is he supposed to be? He never had a place in the world before, and he doesn’t have it now. He can grow into Mal, give him history, but Y/N doesn’t believe him. She sheds Mal off him like he’s a snake, and soon she’ll know Mal doesn’t exist either.

So, what is he supposed to be?

Who is he?

Who is he?

From the times he showed his face on the camera of Mom’s recorder, he’s been trying to figure that out.

Wow, Mal, I mean, Kai, you gotta stop now, because you’re going to drive yourself crazy, he said to himself.

He realized he had no idea who he had been even before Malivore stripped him of all remains of humanity as he lay on the field under the lilac evening sky. Disgusting to admit that, but at that moment he really needed someone to hold his hand and say something. By ‘someone’ he, of course, meant Y/N, and by ‘something’ he meant what she used to say to him.

“I understand”.

She once took his palm, shaking and hot, a little wet (and she wasn’t grossed out! Wow!) in the last attempt to calm the storm of his rage, bright orange like a flame. Smart little thing, she figured out the way to open him like an antique locker. She didn’t yell anymore – although she liked that, generally. She stroke right into the core of his being, brave as fuck, reckless, he would say. Nobody ever tried that, of course, because nobody gave a shit about him and his salvation. But if, IF they tried, they’d stop breathing immediately. She said, hey, are you with me here? Listen, I know.

She didn’t specify what she knew exactly, but somehow Kai felt so exposed it made him horrified. It made him as scared as he used to get when Momma locked him in the broom-room, and banged on the other side of the door, imitating monsters coming for him. Malachai, she used to say, the monsters will come for you, and they will eat you alive if you don’t stop this. He waited and waited, wailing and sweating, clutching on his own hands, in complete darkness, aching all over because of that damn fever that lack of magic used to give him; the monsters never came. Took him a couple of years to realize his house has been filled with monsters ever since he was born.

His family, get it?

Anyway, she said that, and Kai thought, well, if she scares me as much as my Momma used to, then I need to have her. Vessel or not, she should me mine. He clicked the switch and found out he was hooked for life. Long, painful… soon to be eternal life.

Wait, did he say “crazy”? Ironic. Hahahahaha

He could get serious if he needed to. He could stop all the whirling that butchered his mind with a powerful will gesture. He just didn’t feel like it most of the time. Ever since he became the Master of Everything in the World, he felt pretty invincible, but this thing, this realization almost made him want to cry.

If he never had any idea who he was, Malivore couldn’t have changed anything in him. He’s still the freak, as Bonnie the Judgy Face puts it, the Malachai from Pearl Street in Portland. The siphoner who killed his family, the witch nobody cared about. The vampire who was unmade in a wrong way so that he can’t drink human blood, but instead, needs other vampires. If you think about it, everything is wrong. He returns to the circle one gradually, thinking about all that.

That’s what angered him the most about Damon’s little trick – to take away life from a creature who has so little; just a girl and a shitload of magical power, and charisma, is just vile. Kai was a flower in the wind, he believed that. He was so vulnerable to pain, it’s insane to think Damon would violate him even further like that. How many years more he needs, and all of them, too, to realize that the hurt from losing someone to murder is not a reason enough? Y/N took her father’s death like a champ. Kai never told her why he really killed him. He was a sleazy worm about it, giving her what he knew she would believe. Kai played along with the famous narrative that he can’t handle anybody else near her. Rolled his eyes, gave a couple of demonic laughs, and she bought it. She cursed him forever for killing her dad, with the anger that only Medea would be capable of. But she came round eventually. It was all better than telling her the truth – what Kai saw her dad was doing in his room. He was capable of mercy. Opposite to a popular misconception, he knew how to take care.

He watched the clouds, tender like fluffy jello. Once in the previous lifetime, when they were young and in love, they laid here like this, on the grass soaking with evening dew, and watched the pink clouds fade away slowly. Her hair was laying in waves on the green grass, and her hand was small and bony in his palm, and Kai felt complete. There was so much oxygen in his then human lungs he was finding it hard to breathe. He wanted to scream thank you for making me a teen again. How awesome it is to feel like you’re free again. Again? For the first time! He wasn’t hunted. He was consoled. He could float among those pink clouds, but he didn’t want to leave her, to undo their handlock even if it was for heavens. He told her everything about his childhood. Every-thing. From beginning to end, and watched her, with her big butterfly eyes as she memorized every detail of that bleak tale. She turned everything into a fairytale, attaching a song to it; there was a time Kai sincerely believed Y/N had some kind of disorder that wouldn’t let her take things seriously. She had a very strange system of priorities; once, when she got punched hard by a vampire, and Kai had honors of being present at the time, everybody thought she cracked her skull. She raised a ghastly shriek about breaking one of her nails though. Kai could relate on some levels, he just didn’t expect to find someone as disinterested in respecting logic as him.

For every tragedy, she had a song. For every word, she had a color. She said his name was red, like blood from throat. When she looked at him, she would say, a song would play so loud in her head she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

He loved that girl so much it hurt his ribcage. He couldn’t let go of her.

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