#That or overpowered small men lol

[xx-sketchy-xx]

Uh oh.. I may have fallen for the grey tube. Lol auuuuuuuuu

#welcome home art #welcome home au #frank frankly #frank supremacy #fr #oops #i like his personality the most #And he’s funny #And I love his relationship in canon with julie #And his relationship in canon with eddie #And now I’m basically a mix of those two people #Boom.. alternate universe where I get the man of my dreams #A pathetic nerd #They are my type fr xD #I mean Dib #tmnt donatello #That or overpowered small men lol #What is me #Pretend ya didn’t see these tags #We love the grumpy puppet

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚? ♡︎

anon asked: (I don't even play genshin Imfao help)

1 am a enjoyer of many of the hot men in genshin but just, imagins pantalone slowly losing himself to my the readers dominance just- AGH I can't even at the thought of him suddenly being pinned up against the wall, gently being suffocated while he just plays along with it

Please I'm begging you, I need sub!pantalone who is used to dominating (but gladly takes the role of submissive with a smile

characters: sub!pantalone x nb!dom!reader

warnings: choking, degrading, dry humping, finger sucking (is that even smt that needs warnings??), thigh riding, begging, not entirely smut like my other filths but is incredibly suggestive, reader is a harbinger!!

notes: i literally accidentally posted the small draft of this req yesterday and panicked lol. june don’t you dare snitch on me

the 9th of the fatui harbingers, regrator and the 10th of the fatui harbingers, bloodhound are both terrifying individuals. one is powerful due to his public fame and recognition alongside the pure mountain of mora he has on his name while the other is a monster on the battlefield and in tracking down people.

yes, both are influential and overpowering in their own ways. sadly they just can’t seem to get along.

the fatui harbingers at least respect each other and hold decent conversations among themselves no matter the ranks, position or how they wish to do their work. that however, does not seem to be the same for the 9th and 10th.

if a room has both the regrator and bloodhound inside then soon enough, a verbal battle is bound to happen. sly remarks, amused hums and harsh threats cutting through the air like a knife through butter.

and that’s what led to this current circumstances - with the 9th crumbling away slowly like a common brothel whore, humping his arousal on the 10th’s thighs with barely contained moans. the bloodhound’s scarred hand wrapped tightly around his throat, holding him in place against the cold palace walls as he drools. glasses and the coat of the harbingers long discarded on the floor as pantalone whimpers pathetically like a cornered prey, grinding himself harsher down on the other harbinger’s thigh between his legs.

“hyaaghh.. [n-name]! please… please touch me~ please please plea-ammfgh!♡︎” the banker choked on your fingers, shoved down his mouth. thin line of saliva already slipping down his lips, drooling more and more like a harlot as he desperately humped his hard cock against your thigh.

rutting himself as much as he can with your hand tightening around his neck, bigger fingers playing with his tongue, pulling and lightly tugging on the wet muscle whenever the banker chokes on your fingers. purple eyes rolling to the back of his skill as he panted, hot breath fanning against the wet fingers of your lips as he whined and whimpered, getting more desperate as time passes.

“whore. you like it when i do this to you huh? who would’ve thought the high and mighty 9th harbinger would be such a slut for a little bit of grinding” pulling the leg he was rutting himself on away, you tightened your hands more around his neck causing him to let out a breathy moan. gloved hands prying at the limb blocking his airway with a keen. the man was getting desperate you could tell - by the small wet patch forming on his pants, the stuttering of his hips as he tries to chase after your thighs, eyes hazy with tears starting to well in them.

“silly little slut. can’t even think straight hmm?” forcefully pushing away one of his legs with your other hand, you placed your knee against his hard on. rubbing and circling around his cock painfully slow, putting very light pressure on the arousal before pretty pulling back away again. perhaps getting back at the banker like this for all the stressed nights and destroyed dummies you let out your anger on was a far better replacement.

pantalone let out more choked whimpers, bucking his hips wildly to gain more pressure to his cock, keening with eyes rolled to the back of his skull when you decide to show some mercy. legs starting to shake wildly, barely able to hold himself up as he felt your knees press more and more before he opened his mouth, jaw going slack in a silent scream as he spasmed and twitched, sandwiched between the wall and your body looming over him.

wait, did he just? - looking down at his crotch you saw the old wet patch growing bigger even wetting your pants’ knees. with an uncharacteristically timid look, heavy blush coating his cheeks pantalone reached out - holding your hand around his throat with a small whimper causing your lips to twitch up in a grin.

“more… please?”

#nobu.writes #sub genshin #sub!genshin #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin impact #sub pantalone #pantalone x reader #fatui x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin drabbles #genshin smut #pantalone smut #dom!reader #x dom reader #dom male reader #dom fem reader

[malereadermaniac]

Insecure ~ Natsu Dragneel x Male Reader

Natsu is insecure about you having past partners - SHORT smut -> Hurt/comfort

Short fic in general lol

NSFW MDNI!

Male reader! Fem readers DNI

When you and Natsu started dating, he'd never been with anyone before

Both romantically and sexually

He's known you for a while so he knew that you'd been with a few guys before, and it never bothered him

But when the two of you had sex for the first time, you said something that made him start to feel a little insecure...

"Fuck... you feel amazing (y/n)!" Natsu grunts, his dick plowing into your ass like a madman

You moan loudly, Natsu's name bouncing off of the walls of his home

Your face was flushed and your body was sweating, you back against his bed, legs on your boyfriend's muscular shoulders

"Unnngh Natsu..." you moan, your ass clenching around the dragon slayer as kisses at your neck

His sweaty body against yours as you get closer and closer to cumming

"Fuuuuck are you sure you're a virgin, Natsu?" You moan, your dick twitching in need of release

"A-Ah... Yeah of c-course, baby Haaaaa~" Natsu moans, his face a mix of confusion from your comment and pleasure

"Holy shit - Ahhh~- you're better than anyone else I've had before FUCK!" You moan loudly

The thin string you were hanging onto snaps as you shoot ropes of white onto your chest and face

Natsu cums as well, biting your shoulder to ground himself as he finishes inside of you

His cum steaming hot, as expected of the fire dragon slayer

After the two of you clean up, you lay your head on your boyfriend's bare, muscular chest, his arm around your shoulders

You're talking about your day and a small mission you went on

But you were mainly talking at Natsu, not to him...

The pink-haired man was stuck in his thoughts

Natsu was having an argument with himself

He felt insecure that you were his first, but you had been with other men, who were probably more experienced and better than him

The other side of his internal argument was angry at himself, Natsu felt guilty as if he was slut-shaming you

It was fully within your right to have sex with as many men as you wanted before you two started dating, you were SINGLE for gods sake

But he felt icky knowing that other man had felt your touch the way he did...

"And then I ran into Lucy who-" you were mid sentence when Natsu interrupted you

"Sorry baby but... can I ask you something?" The pink haired man says meekly, avoiding eye contact

You chuckle "Yeah go ahead, I could tell you were stuck in your own thoughts anyway" you say with a smile

"Were... We're your past lovers better than me?.... like in bed" he mumbles

Natsu's question catches you off guard, to the point where you're speachless

Which Natsu takes as an answer

"Yeah I thought as much but...-"

"No! No they weren't! Sorry Salamander your question just caught me off guard" you explain, sitting up to look Natsu in the eye

"Oh... are ya sure? You don't have to lie to me, (n/n)" Natsu says as he brings a hand up to your head and plays with your hair

"I'm sure babe. You're better than any other dickhead I've been with in the past! Besides, I've only ever been with two other guys, and not one of them made me cum on their own haha" you laugh, your comments making Natsu blush

As the Dragon slayer keeps twirling your hair around his fingers, he looks into your eyes lovingly

"I'm glad I can make you feel good... cause your rock my world, (n/n)" Natsu chuckles

You laugh at his comment and after a little while, slap Natsu's shoulder gently and go to get up

"C'mon salamander, let's go start our da-" you were saying, however Natsu's tig on your arm interrupted you

"Wah!" You wail, Natsu's muscular arm immediately overpowering you, situating you onto his wide, muscular hips

"Let's go for a second round" Natsu says with a grin as the eager (no longer virgin) man grinds his hips upwards into your ass

"Noooo... I'm so tired already Natsu - bottoming is much harder than topping ya know!" You whine, but as Natsu grinds up, you too grind down

"Pleaseeee, you're hard too, (n/n)" Natsu chuckles, his rough palms rubbing up your side, his eyes focusing on your waist...

Fuck he loved your waist

"Ha.... Fuck it alright" you chuckle and bend down to kiss your boyfriend with a passionate, looooong kiss, that turned into a make-out

#male reader #gay #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #anime #light smut #gay smut #fairy tail #fairytail x reader #fairytail x male reader #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail x male reader #natsu dragneel #natsu x reader #natsu x male reader

[yestrday]

ok so maybe you're gonna get tired of the whole bodyparts academy au BUT I've been brainrotting so hard my brain is like melting out of my ears dawg... i gotta get this out of my system or it WILL consume me... you know aethers like outfit?? his abdomen area(? idk waht its called english hard lol) hasnt left my mind its just/?!?!?!?! THE WAIST????? (men and their slutty waists smh) it just looks sooo good I want to bite and like put my hands on him and just manhandle him grraravdjñ, SO LIKE just imagine academy au mc jus kind of like obsessed with his abdomen area (again sorry dont know what its called 😭) who just coincidentally has their hands on his waist like ALL the time, and im just so curious abt how aether would react, would he show off?? would he be shy??? would he be running laps and screaming??? (idk how to end this im sorry words aren't wording how they should lmaoo)

the unbelievably deep sigh i just had when I saw this ask. and yet here I am, the sucker and fool. ready to do anything for genshin men and their impeccable body measurements.

i actually wrote something like this already 😭but I wanted to cop a feel for academy aether's tummy too yknow? or maybe I just cannot control myself when it comes to the twins

you might like: teyvat! aether and his little tummy <;33

oh, please. aether knows he's pretty. he is lumine's twin brother, after all! even before coming to this school he's turned heads left and right, so surely he could use his good looks to seduce the person of his dreams, right?

wrong.

whenever you snatch him by the waist, it’s protectiveness and not the perverted fondling he’d rather you’d do to him. aether is, after all, cute and petite. he looks like he can be easily overpowered by any of the students here and you just have that natural urge to protect him! you don’t know that aether can easily oneshot most of your harem members, but even if you did, what exactly would change?

when aether skips over to your side, you smile fondly at him and hug him by the waist to your side. it gets his heart pumping whenever you do that, hiding his flushed face behind his textbooks so you won’t suspect a thing. disappointment always floods his insides when you look at him like a brother and not a potential love interest. your waist is so small! you say like a naggy mother. you have to eat more!

it’s frustrating! lumine has to watch his brother scream into his pillow every night from her side of the room. she rolls over and tries to drown out his screams with a pillow.

“aether!” you one day call out to him. your bright smile once again beckons him to your side. he yelps when you slide a firm hand around his waist and pull him to your lap. his cheeks flush when hug him closer to your chest, and it takes everything out of him not to squirm. “i’ve got something to show you!” your breath tickles his ear and sends tingles down his spine. 

shuddering out a sigh, he forces a shaky grin as he tries his best to look enthusiastic. “is this about the anime you sent me last week?” you brighten up at his remembrance and chatter on and on to him. he makes his remarks too, fueling the conversation, and as it goes on your hands continue to rover about his abdomen. you’re such a mean senior, not even noticing the bright red blush on his face! was this on purpose? it has to be!

a single feather-like stroke of his abdomen sends him shuddering and keeling over. he gasps into your collarbone, hiding his blush and heart-eyed expression. “you’re so mean, senpai,” he whimpers into your skin. “teasing me like this...”

“i-i’m sorry...” the tension of the situation has now finally dawned on you, and you blush when you feel aether’s lips quivering on your skin. “i didn’t realize that...”

your words trail off as temptation seizes your hand to feel up his abdomen once more. toned as they were, the curves seemed so tiny and fragile as they fit into your hands. a lean and slender body, yet supple enough to serve as canvas for your marks...

ah, no! what kind of senior are you, teaching such lecherous thoughts of your junior! and yet... and yet...! your eyes dart to the corner, where the blonde student is currently shaking in your grasp. the cute and helpful transfer student who you viewed as a brother now looked more and more like prey in your hands. you gulp.

“i’m sorry, aether,” you whisper, sending an excited rush through his body. “but you look so pretty now...”

his tongue feels like lead as it quivers in his mouth, but when you settle him down on the couch and hover above him, he giggles like the closeted perverted maniac that he is.

“no worries, senpai ♡~” he laughs, bringing you closer by the neck. “make sure to appreciate me more okay?”

perhaps he’ll start rolling up his uniform after this, just to make the rest of your harem jealous ☆

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #yandere aether #genshin aether #yester.writes #yester.au — academy 📓

[melrosing]

sparknotes for ep 2 of my made up Robert's Rebellion adaptation because I don't trust HBO :) this part is more detailed because the introductions are over and I am having fun. once again, some changes: Rhaegar and Joncon canonically meet when squiring together, but I want to introduce him slightly earlier so now they'll first meet with Joncon as a page at the Red Keep (so he's maybe a little younger than Rhaegar). also, spot bonifer hasty - this is just before he finds jesus Prev Part - Episode 1

Next Part - Episode 3

Episode 2: The Boys Are Fightinggg

It’s been five/six years since ep 1. We open in the library of the Red Keep, where a fourteen year old Rhaegar Targaryen sits reading a heavy tome, brow pinched. After a moment, he shuts it carefully and rises to walk to a window overlooking the training grounds. A maester asks if he’s alright, and Rhaegar answers “it seems I must learn to fight” (cryptic lil fuck)

Opening credits roll. They’re the same as GOT except the music is caramelldansen

Joanna Lannister at Casterly Rock, sat in her solar with Genna; she’s visibly pregnant. A maid enters the solar looked panicked, and insists she speak to Joanna alone. Joanna allows this, and the maid confides something (guess what) concerning the twins. After ascertaining the maid won’t speak (and maybe issuing a tiny little threat), Joanna dismisses her with a bag of gold

Joanna confronts her children one at a time. Cersei is belligerent, insisting it was only a game. Jaime is distressed, unable to comprehend why what they were doing was wrong. Joanna states she will be placing their rooms apart, with a guard on Cersei’s etc - and don’t make her tell their dad. Both children look utterly horrified by that prospect, and Joanna seems uneasy threatening it

Aerys and Tywin at the King’s council. Lots of matters on the table etc. Some guy called Denys Darklyn is asking for a charter for Duskendale (it's clearly not the first time), which Tywin dismisses. Some Kingsguard has died, and they need a replacement. Tywin makes some suggestions of his own, and asks Aerys which he would prefer. Aerys is not really listening, only waving his hand over the flame of a candle. Tywin interrupts his musings, and Aerys burns himself in surprise. Asking the King his input on some matter, Aerys has little to offer. Tywin says something faintly facetious regarding the King’s attention span, and Aerys thinks he sees Pycelle smile

Rhaella, also pregnant, is in the gardens at the Red Keep, sat beneath a memorial statue of her parents. She grasps a bunch of flowers that she presumably means to lay at their feet, touches her bump and looks uneasy. Watching on is a castle guard who stands at the garden gate; Rhaella meets his eyes, pleading him closer, and they hold one another’s gaze for a long moment. Ultimately the guard breaks it, and looks down to his feet. Rhaella, looking away in despair, stiffly but violently shreds her flowers, and drops the remains beneath the statue before rising and leaving the garden

Anime boy Rhaegar learning to fight in the training yard. He seems a little surprised if reassured by his own skill, overpowering the master at arms at one point. Young page Jon Connington watches on, looking like he’s about to burst into applause. Aerys himself looks on from a high window, and looks Intensely Bothered

Aerys walking through the halls past a small crowd of men. He hears one say that Tywin truly rules the Seven Kingdoms, and turns abruptly to see the speaker - one Ilyn Payne, who looks shocked to see Aerys there. Aerys looks violent, like he might do something for a moment, but is ushered onwards by Barristan Selmy

Rhaella and Rhaegar at the dinner table in the royal… chambers??? whatever lol. Rhaella says she’s heard Rhaegar is fighting: that is good. Rhaegar is not super responsive to this praise. Rhaella then asks her son if she thinks the baby will be a boy or a girl. Rhaegar looks at her sadly

Aerys arrives belatedly to ruin dinner, decides he dislikes how quiet and miserable his family looks. Cracks a shit joke, doesn’t like the way his son looks at him, reads judgement in the kid’s eyes. Aerys is about to escalate in this sudden disagreement with his son, when Rhaella begins panicking - there’s blood pooling beneath the table. As Aerys realises what’s happening his anger abruptly turns to Rhaella, and he looks like he might strike her - then Rhaegar stands between them, and silently warns him off. Aerys is furious, but it works, and he storms out

Now Aerys is storming into the throne room, where Tywin sits his throne, listening to the grievances of some visiting lord. Aerys identifies Ilyn Payne at the sidelines, calls him over, and orders his tongue ripped out. This is appropriately grim :) Tywin looks on, displeased but unable to say anything. Aerys orders him off of his throne then takes it himself, and announces that as king he is ordering a tourney: the winner will join his Kingsguard

#asoiaf #cw miscarriage #sparknotes robert's rebellion

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

In a redeemed recoms au! you can't tell me that Lo'ak and Spider don't constantly rope Lyle into their shit.

NO FR THEY WOULDDDDDD

Lyle is the fun beer uncle and no one can change my mind so upon figuring it out, Lo’ak and Spider drag him into their dumbass duo and they become a trio 💅 Lyle tried hard not to show his dumbassery but lets loose eventually.

Jake makes the mistake of assuming that being around an adult will make the boys behave better but effect is the exact opposite. Having a grown Na’vi with military training just means they can do crazier stuff and put themselves in more danger because why not? Uncle Lyle will solve whatever problem they found themselves in 🥰 be it hiding from an RDA scout group or getting chased by an Akula, Wainfleet has it covered 😎( He doesn’t, he’s actually just a big doormat for these two since they talk big game about how cool he is all the time so he comes along on whatever goofy adventure they got going on lol)

Though I also believe that he won’t hesitate to step up and be tough when he really has to. Lo’ak and Spider are both teens who desperately want to prove themselves and how useful they can be to the community, so they’ll often disregard their lives by throwing themselves into danger.

“Now tell me, what in the ever-loving fuck would you be doing if I wasn’t there? Hm?”

Lo’ak and Spider both avoided looking at Wainfleet in shame, eyeing their injuries instead.

“Fuckin’ hell. Just because Aonung miraculously gets away with some bloody stunt doesn’t mean you’re obligated to best him. Aight’? That won’t prove nothing to your old men except that you share the same braincell.”

The two boys nodded in response, finally meeting Lyle’s eyes as they hear concern overpower the anger in his voice.

Sigh “Now…how are we gonna explain these” he pointed at the bruises and cuts. “To them without getting my neck snapped, hm?”

The atmosphere lightened with his little quip, getting a small smile out of the sorry troublemakers as they looked at each other and shook their shoulders.

That’s just my take on it tho 💅😌

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar spider #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #spider socorro #miles quaritch #miles spider soccoro #avatar lo’ak #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #lyle wainfleet #avatar lyle

[theweeklydiscourse]

I've so many thoughts about Nikolai in KoS and RoW. He was one of my most favorite characters in the grishaverse but the books didn't do him justice at all. He's dumbed down and reduced to just giving great comic one liners. I think there aren't much interesting male characters in YA fantasy now. I love that the stories are women-centric but that doesn't mean you can't write actually interesting male characters too you know? And the thing about KoS that irks me the most is that it was literally marketed as "Nikolai's duology" when really it was all about Zoya it feels like Leigh always does this lol S&B was heavily marketed with alarkling and KoS with Nikolai's name and both didn't deliver what they were expected too. I love that we have stories about all these badass girls but let men be interesting too please! Nikolai was so intriguing as a character, there was so much that could've been done with him instead he's a side character in his own book. Smfh. Would love to hear what are your thoughts on Nikolai and how his story is handled.

Shadow and Bone was a trilogy that was widely known as the typical cliche YA fantasy novel with a bad ending and a contrived plot, but even with that fact, there were still flashes of brilliance every now and again. Nikolai Lantov was one of those shining flashes. He was the middle ground between the irritating petulance of Mid Oretsev and the Darkling who alternated from compelling to moustache twirling.

It seems that after S&B, Bardugo looked at the reception of Nikolai’s character and took the wrong messages away from it. “Oh, it looks like the readers love Nikolai’s witty one-liners and snark! We need more of that.” Nikolai has genuinely compelling moments (sometimes small subtle moments) in the S&B trilogy and it feels like the duology didn’t really expand upon those earlier moments as they should have. Instead, he is overpowered by Zoya’s presence and is sidelined in his own narrative. A classic bait and switch where the character with the most potential got bonked on the head by the contrivance stick and had another character get powered up in their stead.

Regarding Zoya, I often think I should like her more than I do. In a number of ways, I feel similar to a version of Zoya on paper, but I can’t find it in myself to actually like her. Most of the time, I feel irritated that Zoya is Bardugo’s vessel for her in-text commentary as well as the persistent feeling that Zoya’s characterization is an attempt to correct certain flaws of the original trilogy. Because of this, I can help but feel annoyed whenever she speaks as it feels like nearly every piece of dialogue is underlined by the condescending attitude of the author. It makes her feel incredibly flat and it only highlights the duology’s conflict with the previous trilogy.

#shadow and bone #lb critical #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyanelsky #rule of wolves #king of scars #Grishaverse #s&b critical #anti leigh bardugo

[space-apples]

@hopepetal and @happy-hermit are involved in this post, but others have been mentioned.

context: zera is an eight year old prince, and jay is the new ruler of the kingdom. jay’s married to stiff there’s also magic, and space can read auras. it isn’t actual aura reading like irl, so take everything with a grain of salt lol. that’s all you need and that’s all i’m willing to give <3. skskjdodjs hope you enjoy <3

if i write more i’ll explain zera and jay’s aura in more depth lol

-

Space, like usual, had no idea what was going on. Their ruler was in the gardens, glaring at the pristine manicured rose bushes as if they personally betrayed her. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered Space. Rose bushes hurt to run into, and he should know. What was strange was that neither Stiff nor Zera was in sight. Jay was normally not without the two, ever since— Well— things happened, and they had returned from the war. He couldn’t blame them, really. Jay never expected to become ruler so early.

None of them did. Jay had become one of the youngest rulers in history, yet no one batted a goddamn eye. She was a good, reliable ruler. Maybe that’s why Space’s heart hurt as much as it did. It wasn’t like Jay was twelve, but they were so young.

He didn’t know where Stiff was, but Zera was in their room. The tell-tale sign was the sniveling, the yellow aura emanating even from behind the door. This, too, was strange. Zera was crying. Alone. Jay was not with them, Stiff was no where to be seen.

He knocked gently, and the quiet sobs were immediately brought to a stand still.

“Go away, Jay, I don’t— I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Lucky for you, then,” Space said softly. “‘s just me.”

“…Space?”

Their aura sparked. Orange, blue, orange, red, red, red.

“The one and only! Well— technically there’s a whole lot of space, but—”

“I don’t wanna joke right now.”

“Okay.” Space frowned, but accepted the request nonetheless. “Okay, kid, that’s alright. Serious talk time. Could you let me in?”

Silence. Then the small pitter-patter of footsteps. Then the rustling of a doorknob. Then the door tentatively opening.

Zera wouldn’t look up at Space, instead, their gaze was aimed at the floor as if he was ashamed. Only a few moments later, Space was holding one of Zera’s bee plushies.

“Jay’s gonna leave soon, I think,” they blurted, shrinking into themself. “They love Stiff now and they don’t need me anymore.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true.”

“It is! It is! They’re gonna go and they’re gonna leave me like everyone else.”

“Well,” Space started. “Have I left you?”

“…No,” Zera admitted, his aura spiking green, orange, green, red, green, red, red, so much red. “But you almost did. And it was cause of me.”

Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear.

“Kiddo—”

“It was my fault!” Red, orange. “It was my fault and you don’t even know it!” Green, red, yellow, red. “You’re saying it’s okay when it isn’t! I don’t deserve it, and Jay—”

“Kiddo, you know I don’t normally like interrupting you, but please, hear me out, okay?” There wasn’t normally this much red in their aura. The red barely ever overpowered the yellow.

From outside the door, Space could sense the green and black warm aura, but he didn’t pay attention to it. This was more important.

Zera nodded, albeit hesitantly, and Space continued. “Remember what I said about the bad men?” He shook his head. “That’s alright, I’ll repeat it. The bad men didn’t care if you were the best or the worst, and they didn’t care if I was the best or the worst. They just wanted to hurt people to hurt them.”

“They hurt me, firefly. Not you. This wasn’t your fault, okay?” Zera’s frown grew, and Space quickly carried on. “And even if you were bad, which you’re not, who says bad people don’t deserve love either? You don’t need to be worthy to be lovable, kiddo.”

“But—”

“Again, your highness, you know I don’t like interrupting, but I want you to listen to what I’m saying, yea?” Another nod. Spikes of blue, green, blue, red, red, yellow. “You don’t have to believe me, but I urge you to consider it. You do not need to be worthy to be loved. And Jay? Jay’s heart is so so big, kiddo. It holds the kingdom and all the people in it. Stiff, Bee, me you— especially you.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. The aura from before— dark green, black, splashes of what could only be described as warmth. Jay.

“It’s your sibling,” he whispered. “Can I let them in?”

Zera fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. Red, red, yellow, purple. Instead of nodding, the prince got out of his bed, and apprehensively opened the door themself.

“Zera, I came to apologize to you,” she said immediately. Their eyes spiked in nervousness, in fear, in regret. Bending down to Zera’s height, her words became ever more soft. “You’re growing bigger. And I— well I didn’t think you’d want me around as much. I suppose I just thought because of what—”

“Please, I don’t want you to leave, Blue Jay,” Zera said. “Please stay, please stay.”

“Oh, love.” Jay wrapped their arms around her little sibling. “I wasn’t going to leave you, I was just— trying to give you some room to breathe.”

“So you— so you still love me?” Zera asked desperately, his voice trembling.

“I could never stop.”

Zera sobbed, and Jay could only hold him tighter. And Space— well, Space felt like he was intruding. So he tried to quietly get out of the room, doing his best to scooch out and back into the hallway. Before he could reach the door, a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him into the hug that he definitely didn’t think he should be a part of.

But it was nice, so he didn’t pull away. Zera’s aura (yellow, orange, blue, yellow, yellow, yellow) entangled with Jay’s (dark green and black shouldn’t have been as warm as it was, but Jay was living proof that it was possible).

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Zera had basically fallen asleep in their bed, and Space couldn’t help but sigh fondly at the peaceful deep breathing the kid had started doing.

“Thank you.”

It was so random, so sudden that Space jerked back.

“For— For what, Your Majesty?”

“I think you know,” she said, smiling gratefully. “I— I heard what you were saying before, and just— thank you.”

“It— I mean— it wasn’t a problem. Zera’s a good kid.”

“He is.”

After a little while, Space leaves Jay alone in Zera’s room, turning left in order to go back to the knight barracks.

He was supposed to go to the right, and he came back a while later, itching his head, quite confused. Sheepishly asking Jay how to get back, she narrowed their eyes.

“I think it’s right.”

“Yea, I thought I went the right way, too.”

“No— Space—”

It took a bit longer to actually get back, to say the least. How Space managed to know so much emotional intelligence, yet still doesn’t know his left and rights will never not be a mystery.

#spaceapples writes #5llsmp fanfic #technically #5llsmp royal au

[kingdimitrx]

Hello! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to ask for headcannons (SFW or NSFW, it doesn't really matter!) for serial killer! Muzan x detective! Yoriichi. I saw this AU somewhere and I can't stop thinking about it lol. I think you would write it the best, though!

Hope you're doing well <3 Thanks in advance!

I remember this concept! I think it’s super interesting — so sorry this took me so long to get to!! I’m still so busy, but you sent this ages ago.

This got really long! I ended up telling a whole story instead of just going with basic hcs… I’m so sorry!

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Serial Killer!Muzan x Detective!Yoriichi Headcanons

CW: Death, child abuse, sexual abuse, animal abuse, minor death of a major character, descriptions of murder, unhealthy/toxic dynamics, yandere(?) themes, love/hate relationship  

This prompt is additionally themed with reincarnation. It takes place in a western-style modern day setting, in a large nameless city similar to New York.

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Muzan Kibutsuji was reincarnated as a very sick human male, just as he was before. Only this time, the medicinal capabilities of doctors was much more advanced.

Thanks to various procedures and medications, Muzan can live as a somewhat normal man. He needs to take medications daily and occasionally needs injections to keep himself alive. Even so, it’s unknown even to doctors exactly what condition Muzan suffers from.

Even though he’s able to live and function as a regular human, Muzan’s mind functions differently than the average man. Perhaps it’s an instinct left over from his past life as a demon, or perhaps just a twisted urge he possesses from birth, but either way, Muzan has always felt the overpowering desire to take the lives of others, even when he was a child.

Growing up, Muzan didn’t have the safest family life. A Japanese native, he was born into a moderately wealthy but corrupt family, and while his mother did her best to keep him safe, she was frail and married to a cruel and greedy man. Muzan’s childhood was riddled with mistreatment at the hands of his father.

(TW!) Muzan’s father often used his underage son to get money from people (usually other wealthy men) who would pay a great deal of money to take advantage of him. A majority of Muzan’s early life was spent this way, and it was extremely damaging to his growth.

As he got older, Muzan’s anger and fear began to spiral into the urge to kill, which only got stronger the more he was sold off to perverted men.

When he was 17 years old, Muzan finally snapped. His father was paid to give another man free reign of his son, but before anything could take place, Muzan took one of the men’s glass chalices and broke it to form a weapon. He used it to brutally smash in and destroy his father’s face after tackling the man, and didn’t stop attacking him until there was hardly anything left. The other man who had paid for the “service” escaped, but never spoke a word of what he had witnessed.

Muzan’s mother arranged for the cover up of her husband’s murder, as well as carefully arranging for her son’s identity to be changed and for him to be sent to America, so he wouldn’t have to take the blame for anything that happened. 

By the time Muzan was 18, he was living on his own as an American citizen, in a big city where he worked as the manager of a corporate office.

Over time, that urge to kill returned, and Muzan eventually decided that he needed to act on it or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 

He started with mice and rats. He was hoping that taking the life of small animals instead of humans would be able to satisfy him, but it didn’t work. He moved to Guinea pigs, birds, cats, and even large dogs, but nothing worked to keep that urge at bay

He was 22 by the time he committed his second murder, in which he attacked a homeless man with a knife. He was never even suspected for the killing and no one bothered investigating the death of a “meaningless” man, so Muzan’s confidence only grew.

Fast forward ten years. Muzan, now a 32 year old man and the CEO of the corporate office, is a seasoned and very careful serial killer. With over 30 kills to his name and scarcely even suspected of a single one, Muzan is an expert killer.

His other crimes - which he is not suspected of - are stalking, harassment, kidnapping, false imprisonment, and arson - all related to each of his carefully calculated killings.

He is known as the Demon Killer, as all of his murders are so well-covered up and hard to predict that churches began to declare it must have been the Devil’s work.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni, 34 years old, has been a police officer for ten years. He currently holds the detective position and is the head of the homicide department at his PD, and is well-respected as one of the greatest detectives in the city - not a single case he’s ever taken up has gone unsolved.

That is, until the Demon Killer became a public and feared name.

Yoriichi didn’t originally investigate the Demon Killer’s crimes, as the many killings weren’t even connected to one another for years. 

However, once Yoriichi’s own twin brother, Michikatsu, was brutally murdered without a trace of evidence, Yoriichi took up the case and very quickly connected all 34 seemingly unrelated killings to one another.

Yoriichi was the man who realized that a serial killer was currently living in the city, and this serial killer had made the mistake of taking the brother of the city’s most respected officer.

Neither Muzan nor Yoriichi directly remember their past history with one another. 

However, when the two men just so happen to pass by each other on the street, they both immediately sense a connection between them - one that fills them both with equal sense of pure dread.

Muzan innately knows that this man is someone to be feared. Yoriichi gets the undeniable, gut sensation that this is the man he’s been looking for.

From then on, the two investigate one another simultaneously. Muzan’s intentions are to take out this detective, as he discovers Yoriichi is, as he has a deeply horrible feeling about him. Yoriichi’s intentions begin as being to track down the Demon Killer and take him to justice.

However, the closer and closer Yoriichi gets to arresting Muzan, and the more he learns about the man, he gets this strange feeling like he needs to bring him to justice himself - outside the law. 

By the time both are equally familiar with and full of detest for one another, each has fallen into a twisted love with the chase, almost drunken on the hate they mutually share. Neither can resist a smirk at the thought of the other.

This is why Muzan starts leaving signs and hints and messages at his gruesome crime scenes, and why Yoriichi learns how to send them back through vague public statements about the Demon Killer’s crimes.

The two are locked in a vicious game of hatred and twisted affection and have been for almost years now - but one has to wonder: how long will it go on, and who will manage to kill the other first?

#machigai ask box #machigai headcanons #muzan #muzan kibutsuji #yoriichi tsugikuni #michikatsu tsugikuni #machigai au #demon slayer #kny au #kny #kimetsu no yaiba

[local-littleguy]

home alone au

or the one where Tommy Innit-Craft is ten years old and it is Christmas. he is in this absolute giant fucking thing of a house because his parents divorced, and he’s there for his mom’s side of the family’s big Christmas party. The house is owned by some old geezer named Philza. his family then runs off because they almost missed the plane back home,

but oops, shit, we left the kid.

meanwhile kind old uncle Phil is stuck at a hotel cause his car broke down and it’s being repaired.. he’ll show up later.

side note: some other kid in the family he doesn’t even know tells him OOoOO look those guys are MURDERERS

it’s Wilbur and techno. Neither understand why the small children are running and screaming.

so Tommy is like, holy shit, I wished my family away, this is my house now. the wet bandits are unchanged because I can’t make them any better lol. so Tommy kicks these grown mens’ asses for like four hours.

He runs from the house to get away from the bandits who nearly get him, and then bonks into tech and Wilbur while he’s on the street. immediate connection, he asks for help.

“sure,” techno says. “I’m always up to punch a guy in the face.”

So the three try and overpower the bandits. they succeed.

Phil shows up.

“oh, hi dad,” Wilbur says awkwardly.

“what the fuck,” says Tommy.

Yeah it turned out Wilbur and Techno are Phil’s kids, but they had to leave the house when everyone was there because I dunno great aunt Bethany hates them idk. plot ok.

so his mom shows up and is like “holy hell I’m so sorry” and Tommy’s like “idk mom these guys are my new family actually”

so yeah. since mom can’t take care of him well due to the divorce, Phil does instead. and mom comes to visit often. because she’s not evil yippee.

idk man I really like home alone. and I thought this would be a really fluffy silly au 👍

#dsmp au #au concept #home alone #christmas movies #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #arden doodles

[mewatchingstuff]

Daemon and Rhaenyra - Thoughts

Spoilers for the show beyond episode 5 and some book spoilers

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I've said before and I'll say again, as much as Daemon and Rhaenyra connect and love each other, they are also a couple that are coupled primarily for political reasons. They are each other's biggest political marriage - even more so than marrying into the Velaryon House.

I feel like the show has been trying to use the first 5 episodes to show their romantic/sexual entanglement as a prelude to their larger story but it feels flatter than it should. The actors are great, their chem is great, and I'm excited for Emma as adult Rhaenyra but showing us Daemons was happily married for 10 years - opposed to the happily 4 years in the book- and showing Rhaenyra loved Harwin enough to have three of his children and mourning his own death at Harrenhal almost overpowers Daemrya as the "ultimate Targaryen power couple" at least romantically.

Daemrya is without a doubt a power couple but more politically so. They are both Targs with a strong sense of their history, responsibility, and rights as Targaryen royalty. I believe the show has actually done a pretty good job with Daemon's Targ pride - even if their other choices for him are questionable. Daemon in HOTD is a staunch defender of his brother and niece. He sees Otto for the snake he is and he understands that not everyone in the small council is after what's best for the seven kingdoms or Viserys. He's brutal as the commander of the city watch because he knows that having crime run rampant will hurt Viserys image in the eyes of the common folk. Daemon fights a war in the Steppstones for (fun) Viserys benefit because the Crab feeders are encroaching on Viserys kingdom. Daemon may toy and play and anger Viserys but he has always been a man who loves his brother and the Targ Dynasty.

Rhaenyra also has the "blood of the dragon" running through her and that's part of the reason her and Daemon have good synergy. But Rhaenyra has long outgrown Daemon as a person, a royal, and a Targaryen. Daemon is a comfort and steadfast ally in her war against the greens and her usurper half-brothers, but as a mate he's not exactly reliable or faithful *cough*Nettles/Mysaria*cough* but he gave her additional heirs whose claim could not be questioned. In the end, Daemon being Daemon and Rhaenyra slowly losing her hold on everything drove them away from each other.

The books theorize Daemon joined Rhaenyra to strengthen his own claim to the Throne, but it always seemed like Daemon was too much of a narcissist to really care about the Throne itself but instead enjoyed the glory of Targaryenism within him. The Rogue Prince and best living Dragon Rider. I believe the show and book versions of Daemon will agree that he also sided with Rhaenyra to protect the Targaryen throne from the Greens. Daemon is never particularly close with Viserys other children because of their inherited alignment with the greens, so you could possibly say he saw them as traitors to the Targaryen dynasty because they were more Hightower than Targaryen. After Viserys dies, Daemon and Rhaenyra are the only royals left who truly value the Targaryens. Aegon and his siblings are Hightowers. They were brought up in Targaryen customs and learned the Targ + Valyrian history, but they are Greens through and through. Daemrya joined to keep the Targs alive and they both accomplished and failed at that goal. The Targs still became a mess because even though the Blacks won the war, the greens were still around and the Lords of the green still had a political impact.

I have a feeling the show will give us a clearer distinction of Rhaenyra's men. Laenor will probably be the best husband and friend she's ever had. Harwin will be the love of her life, and Daemon will be her greatest ally and Targaryen kindred spirit. On Daemon's part, book Daemon's true love was himself and Dark Sister (lol) but his relationship with Laena shows he could be happily domestic and respectful of his wife. I think Laena was the only wife he didn't cheat on? Daemon in the show seems to be following suit, but given what the showrunners have in store for Laena - I don't believe they'll write that marriage as something positively impactful for Daemon. And then there's still also the beginning of the show that has been pushing/foreshadowing Daemrya as being each other's great love which is just not going to hit the way they want it to. At least for me.

Daemrya is a great pair but they're not necessarily a great romantic couple. I hope the show allows for that to be shown because that layered relationship to each other, to their history, to their enemies, and to themselves is so interesting to see.

#house of the dragon spoilers #house of the dragon #fire and blood spoilers #Rhaenyra Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen

[msookyspooky]

The most disturbing part of ch 20 I think was just how defenseless Y/n was without her gun. This entire time she's been threatening to kill them, but the moment she lost that gun? It was game over basically. The way Stu ran at her and started screaming at her to shoot him? Absolute insanity. Y/n really didn't want to shoot him even tho he was terrifying her 🤐 and it was that hesitation that got the gun taken.

Without her weapons, Y/n kinda goes back to being her Set Up self bc she's so vulnerable. The idea of a 6'3-6'4 man running at me is terrifying lol as someone who's a woman and very short and small, I wouldn't stand a chance. Billy and Stu could toss me around like a ragdoll and there probably wouldn't be much I could do. I really appreciate how this chapter makes me feel weak😭 it makes you feel so defeated and it had me livid.

I was enraged when Stu got the gun and took complete control of the situation. If it hadn't been for Billy, Y/n's brains might have been splattered all over that wall. Y/n had to run into the bathroom bc she KNEW she couldn't win a fist fight against Stu. When Billy pushed her against the wall, I wanted to start screaming and kicking lol I hated that vulnerability, I hated how Y/n couldn't get to Randy bc of how overpowered she was. It's a sobering thought knowing that yeah, these men CAN and WILL hurt you.

You are not special lol yeah, they care, but if Billy had really wanted to, he could have slit Y/n's throat. If Stu had really wanted to, he could have busted that bathroom door down probably. Y/n's confidence took a hit and I loved it and hated it ❤

THANK YOU YOU GET IT!!!

I'm 5'10, over 250lbs and regularly do heavy weight lifting and I know my tolerance level for being hit in the head/face w/o too much trauma dumping. I know first hand what that helpless, trembling, can't breathe feeling of helplessness and fear feels like. That being said, a normal guy one on one? Yeah, I can hold my own with them. Doesn't mean I'm winning, not by a long shot, but I could hold my own enough to get away. Especially when in fight or flight mode.

But Stu and Billy? You can't even think of them like fighting normal men. It's like fighting someone drunk or drugged or in their case just crazy fueled rage that makes them not feel pain and have 10x the strength they normally do. And the fact there's 2 of them makes it 10x worse. And of course like you pointed out, a smaller person they would toss around like a ragdoll.

I definitely never want to mary sue YN to the point she's some badass kicking crazed mens asses with ease like she's the chosen one. Could some women do that? Yes, I truly do think so. But the average woman? No way. Hell, the average PERSON. Look how scared Randy was of Billy with Stu cornering him in the video store! Their level of mental issues and rage and size especially for Stu and both of them together? You're not getting out of it unless you outsmart them somehow.

We did get a sombering feeling that w/o that gun and even with self defense classes and weapons and fighting them before; it still is a freezing fear of fighting them. It's still not compared to them both enraged coming after us.

We truly didn't have a choice whether it's Ray or not; we got a wake up call that we were right about Stu in chapter 2. One day, we'll piss him off enough that maybe his 'caring' for us goes out the window and...Then what?

#Thank u sm for this I love love love analysis of chapters like this!!!!

[thatsridicarus]

I probably never talked about this before...

I'm guessing most of y'all are excited about the whole Good Mythical Evening livestream, with R&L and the crew going uncensored and live, saying whatever they want & touching on more risqué topics.

But I just can't bring myself to watch that without triggering my trauma.

I'm used to the clean R&L & GMM, and used to watching their episodes for comfort from what went on in my first workplace where the traumatic event started. They didn't heal me fully but at least they helped soothe my anger gradually. Yes I'm aware of GMM's shift into making subtle sexual undertones but I still can't bring myself to watch them saying curse words or being lewd, else it'll sent me to a violent rage & I'd swear up a storm at them, hurl insults and having raging murderous thoughts of them.

Y'see, it all started with my first real job at [REDACTED]. The cause of this problem is pretty stupid & mundane, but it lasted until now, after years of leaving the company I first worked in, and it persisted even with new surroundings in the company I worked with.

First off I was the only female & fresh graduate in my division. It's a small company. I've got 2-3 other men working and they're all dads. They present themselves as righteous, religious family men & maintain a friendly casual connection with my religious parents. But they'd destress by playing online games and when they play, they'd turn 180° from their religious good guys facade into ABSOLUTE DICKS with their cussing & racist & sexist remarks. It feels terribly off & it scared & angered me & I never wanted to witness this again. It's repetitive enough to traumatize me. Not to mention these assholes would cut off the wifi to play their game, which meant cutting my connection with my online friends (cuz I had no friends IRL then), isolating me even further & worsening my work days.  So there I was, stuck all alone in a room with no one to talk to while having to hear these cocksuckers screaming & yelling & acting like they shouldn't be. THIS is one of the main reasons why I started talking to myself louder. To DROWN THEIR NOISES.

Btw the game they were playing was League of Legends. There's nothing wrong with the game but for a long while these guys ruined the game for me. Luckily I found my love for LoL again through K/DA and Arcane, despite never playing the game. It's never the game. it's these mofos.

One time I got pissed and acted exactly like them, being generally angry, yelling & spewing the same hateful stuff they did when they were playing, but y’know what? They told me to shut up & thought I was "possessed" cuz they were doing fucking WORK (and I was taking a break). They have the GODDAMN NERVE to gang up on me telling me I need to "repent" and chant the Istighfar a couple of times so I won't be disturbed.

BITCH WHAT.

It wasn't the "demons" or "evil spirits" disturbing me, IT WAS YOU DICKHEADS AND YOUR TWO-FACEDNESS. I was alone. I was visibly frustrated, hyperventilating. I was crying. I felt overpowered. This is what a MENTAL BREAKDOWN looks like. This is ANXIETY. NOT DEMON POSSESSION YOU DIPSHITS. Don't these guys see the irony of telling someone else to repent, pray & say the istighfar when their hypocritical selves are yelling curse words spewing racist & sexist bullshit at the same time?

Anyway they acted nice whenever they’re in front of me, like occasionally giving me work guidances and buying drinks once or twice, but still, I’m always under the constant fear of them possibly acting up again. This is why I always put headphones on at work until now.

Even years later after I moved on to a new workplace, I’d still react the same way whenever a coworker accidentally swears, like I’d still insult them & swear at them the same way. And cry. A lot. From restraining from physically harming them cuz it was supposed to be a professional setting & I can’t punch anyone or stab them with a pen without the consequences of getting fired.

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Anyways, update, I just realized that I'll get triggered with new people (who i hang out with) if they started cursing or saying things they shouldn’t. With IRL friends n internet friends, i'm used to them. Turns out the fear lies not so much with age. It's weird cuz I have an online friend whom I met up a few times irl, and she's around my age and we talked about subtle dirty stuff and violence & murder but if she ever so slightly drop an f-bomb in convos/tweets it'll make me want to bludgeon her face with a mallet while yelling all the profanities n insults at her telling her she's a waste of oxygen, etc. when the truth is I never meant all of that. I don't wanna call someone "a waste of oxygen that doesn’t deserve to live".

No one deserves that. I hope those never comes outta my mouth. Especially not directed towards my friends, my family, people I care about. Which is why whenever I meet new people I always need to tell them to watch their language when they’re around me, cuz I don’t wanna unleash a mf-ing monster & physically hurt them.

And when it comes to Youtubers I'm somehow fine with people like Smosh, or the Try Guys (and other ex-Buzzfeed ppl) using profanity or dirty sexual jokes, but sadly not the people at Mythical (even though they technically own Smosh). It all lies in the introduction to me.

TL;DR I'm only fine with people swearing & making sex jokes when it comes to my friends, people close to my age, art school people, childless people & people that aren’t children. Other than those mentioned would result in me I getting triggered. I will get violent. I would cut a bitch. I hate how one measly traumatic event made me a hypocrite. (internet people are alright, I’ll give y’all an excuse).

So yeah, I’ll just stick to the usual dose of GMM & GMMore. I feel bad cuz I can’t listen to Ear Biscuits anymore or enjoy exclusive content, but I’ll lurk on the internet for any mythical beasts to fill me in on EB updates.

As for those guys who used to work at the old production house, you’re part of the cause of the toxic environment and the lasting trauma I endured. You guys can gladly go fuck yourselves, unless y’all are still hiding behind that religious image that made you think masturbation is a sin.

(originally posted on my 2nd twitter)

#r2 rants #r2 rambles #trauma #tw: murderous intentions #gmm #good mythical evening #ear biscuits #arcane #league of legends

[leandra-winchester]

Just crossed the 50k mark on my current buddie fic, A Tale of Teeth and Talons.

Only two chapters published so far because my beta hasn’t been feeling well for a couple of days, but it’s progressing really well. I have 5 whole chapters finished now (well, 1 prologue and 4 chapters) and a good portion of the next. The entire plot is outlined, and I’m tracking my progress in an excel sheet because it provides additional motivation for me to push myself to write. 

I don’t think I’ve ever written that much, that fast. My Destiel fic was 132 words and took me half a year to finish. This one? Well, I have no idea how much it’s going to be once it’s done, but I have a feeling I’ve barely covered a sixth of the planned plot yet. Which would mean that this fic might easily go around or even above 300k words. Holy effing shit. 

I just hope I can keep it up to write as much as I have the past three weeks. I mean, I do expect it to slow down eventually, and me hitting phases where I’m stuck for a little while; my goal was 1000k a day, but I’ve been writing 2300 daily on average. Plus editing. Plus researching. Plus map drawing. 

Oh, yeah, I bought a graphic tablet just so I could draw a better map for my fictional world, lol. 

(Those mountains were driving me insane last night. Also, I think I need to do the rivers as black outlines and just fill them with a more muted blue. Make it a little more Tolkien style). 

Anyway. In case anyone is reading A Tale of Teeth and Talons and was wondering when I’d update, have a few more days patience please. 

And in case you are reading but haven’t left a comment yet, please consider doing so. I can definitely use some additional motivation to keep me going, getting through this insanely huge project. 

A little excerpt of chapter 3 (4 if you count the prologue as one) after the cut. 

At that moment, however, they saw someone run through the gate to their right that was kept open during the day. It took Buck a moment to recognize Will, who looked around, very obviously rattled and out of breath. His eyes found Bobby first, and he came running towards the two of them who rushed rushed to meet him in the middle. 

“Numans,” Will panted, taking a moment to breathe in and out as he straightened himself, but Buck already felt a wave of ice cold dread run down his back. 

“Numans?” Bobby asked. “Where?” 

“They… They—” Athletic though he was, Will barely got a word out. He must have run all the way from one of the outposts close to their clan’s border to be this out of breath. 

“Not many,” Will said, huffing out as he gradually seemed to calm his breath down a little. “Twenty-five men. They crossed our borders by the south-eastern wall.”

“Why did you let them in?” Buck asked in confusion. Surely, with their advanced position on the trees and behind the earthen wall, the watchmen could have kept the Numans in check, even overpowered them, once they tried to proceed without invitation. 

“They said it’s a… a friendly mission. A visit, not an attack.”

“When was that?” 

“This morning,” Will replied. “They’re on horses but they were in no rush. Said they wanted to cross the Daegea. I…” Will looked back and forth between Bobby and Buck. Then his brow furrowed deeply as his gaze rested on the wolf’s fang on Buck’s chest. 

“I think I know who was with them.” 

(context: this is a fantasy setting closely similar to Europe in the 1st century AD. The Numans are what the Romans were in reality. The Daegea is a river.)

And another one from the following chapter. 

“When are you coming back, papa?” Christopher asked, his voice thin with a sadness ringing in his words that cut through Eddie’s heart. 

Squatting down in front of his son so he was at the same height, Eddie laid one hand on the small boy’s shoulder and looked at him with a smile as bright as he could muster. 

“I’m not coming back to Greotiacum. We’re all going to meet again in Novatrivium, remember? It’s a five day trip up there, and I bet it’s going to be sooo exciting. You’ll see things you’ve never seen before. Vast green forests and hills like we didn’t have them back in Megitia or Numa.” 

“Why can’t you come with us?” Christopher asked, no enthusiasm raised in him for the adventure Eddie was trying to paint. 

“Because I and a couple of other legionnaires need to visit a few people and talk to them. We’re guests in their lands, see? So we’ve got to make sure they’re happy with us being here.” 

“Are they… are they people you know? From… before?” Christopher asked, and his eyes lit up a little with expectation. 

Eddie didn’t like having to tell him that he was going to see Christopher’s grandparents while Christopher himself couldn’t, yet, but he had no other choice. Lying to his son was not something he did if he couldn’t absolutely avoid it, and he wasn’t going to start now.

He nodded, also chasing away the lump he felt rising in his throat at the thought. “Yes. We’re going to visit the clan I’m from, too.” 

Christopher’s eyes became a little bigger. “Your parents and sisters too?” 

Eddie nodded again, the knots in his stomach now rising all the way up his chest, something between longing and anxiety making his heart beat faster and more painfully. 

“Why can’t we come with you?” 

“Because it’s no place for young children. Or women,” Shannon said a little too quickly, with an air of barely suppressed annoyance. 

“Shannon,” Eddie muttered under his breath as he got back up, looking at her pleadingly. 

“What?” she huffed. “They don’t even have baths or latrines. We’ll be much better off in Novatrivium, Christopher. It’ll be much more like what we’re used to.”

Eddie let out a long sigh. This was not the moment to get into another argument with Shannon. Of which they had plenty, the few days after he had told her about the move. Eddie could understand it; he would not have chosen this himself, but so was the life of a soldier in Numa. Shannon felt powerless in all of this, and on top of it, she had never known life outside of Numan society. It didn’t matter that she spoke the language, or appreciated a few items of Ardenian jewelry; Shannon was Numan more than she’d ever been Ardenian, and Eddie had had to uproot her, too. 

“No latrines?” Christopher asked in confusion. “But then how—”

“We can visit them in the summer maybe,” Shannon now said, and it was a peace offering to Eddie much more than simply wanting to raise her son’s spirits. “When the weather’s nicer and warmer. Or they can come up and visit us. You’ll get to meet them eventually.” 

“You promise?” the boy asked, looking back and forth between both his parents. 

Eddie got down again in front of his son and nodded. “I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. I’m sure they will want to meet you too, once I tell them about you. But now you’ve got to go to our new home with your mama first, alright? And once you’ve settled in, and made a few new friends, before you even know it, I’ll be back with the two of you.” 

Christopher nodded, his chin wobbling softly at the realization that this was, at least for a while, goodbye. He handed his walking sticks to his mother and then raised his slender arms, demanding a hug from his father that he was more than willing to give.

(context: Ardenia is the name of the lands the Numans are trying to bring under their control. Greotiacum is a city already under Numan rule, Novatrivium a smaller town and summer camp of the legions.)

But that’s enough for now, before I end up posting the whole thing here ;-) 

#my fanfic #writing #buddie #ATOTAT

[daydreamtofiction]

Hi! First of all I want to say I really love your writing<3

I saw your post asking for requests and noticed at the bottom you said you would take Doctor Strange ones too. So I was wondering if you’d mind writing something where Stephen is the hero and the reader is the villain but instead of fighting they end up.. well you know. I’m a sucker for the enemies to lovers trope lol and I love Strange smut but I’m getting sick of the reader always being another sorcerer so I thought it would be cool if maybe the reader is a villain instead. Idk totally disregard this if you don’t want to write it! But thank you in advance if you do<3

The Villain // Doctor Strange

Summary: "You hated him. Hated him so much. Yet for some reason, you didn't want to hurt him. You wanted to see him falter, to lose his composure, to blur the lines between good and bad by giving in to you. You wanted him to suffer the torment of his own bad decision. You wanted to be his bad decision." (Doctor Strange x Reader)

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Rough/angry sex, oral sex, verbal & physical fighting, (light/brief) bondage, mild bad language, mentions of scars. Anything else I’ve missed please let me know. Readers must be 18+

You never set out to be the bad guy. Although, being the good guy had never really appealed to you either.

You'd witnessed the battles over the years; the gods vs monsters, the super-soldiers and men in armoured suits destroying cities in the name of justice, of avenging. You would watch as the little people cheered and worshipped their so-called heroes as they stood atop the remnants of their homes - their livelihoods disintegrated to nothing but rubble and ash, their loved ones caught in the crossfire. Yet somehow, no matter what, they still saw them as good.

And so you decided, from the moment your palm first itched with a spark, that if that was what good looked like, then 'good' was not for you.

You were the last of your kind; a product of an experiment that enhanced your DNA, that gifted you with more power in the tips of your fingers than most could ever dream of possessing. Your creator was slain, the rest of your team wiped out before they even had a chance. But you, somehow you had got away. And since that day you only had one thing on your mind; to bring the man who destroyed your people to his knees.

Doctor Stephen Strange.

You'd come face-to-face with him many times. So much so that he had become familiar to you; an almost comforting presence in the most twisted, masochistic way. You knew his personality, how to get under his skin, to make him angry. You liked to watch the frustration build in the lines of his face whenever you outsmarted or overpowered him, to watch the conflict behind his eyes when he showed mercy even though you didn't always deserve it.

This time, however, you'd messed up; flown too close to the sun and got yourself burned. Or in this case, locked up.

You stood inside the cold, stone dungeon with your arms folded across your chest, watching him wander back and forth around the dingy basement of the Sanctum Sanctorum. The glass imprisoning you was thick, charmed with some sort of spell that made your attempts to blast through it completely useless. So useless that he'd laughed at you when you tried, which only made you angrier.

He hadn't spoken a word since your capture. No matter what you said or how you said it, he'd ignored it all, and it was driving you insane. Partly because you wanted to antagonise him, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed his attention.

"The great mystic Doctor Strange," you said with a chuckle. "First he didn't make Sorcerer Supreme, and now he's been demoted to babysitting duty."

He turned his head in your direction, the flecks of silver at his temples catching in the low light. "I'm here because I chose to be," he said bluntly.

You were stunned to finally hear his voice, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "Really?"

"Yes really," he said curtly, putting down the small trinket he'd been messing with. "I wasn't going to let anyone else have the satisfaction of finally seeing you behind that glass."

You laughed. "Ah, is that what you guys do all day between meditation and magic tricks? Assign yourselves 'arrest warrants' like some kind of mystic police?" You lowered your voice, mimicking his deep tones. "'This one's my problem, that one's yours'."

"Oh, you've made it very clear that you're my problem."

"Is that right, Stephen?"

"It's Doctor Strange."

"Well, Doctor, I'm glad you noticed. I was starting to worry I was being too subtle."

"You blew through the walls of my Sanctum and shot a beam of light at my head. I struggle to understand what's subtle about that."

"Eh you know what they say about kids in the playground; they always pick on the one they have a crush on."

He scoffed. "Give me a break."

"Just trying to make this interesting." You raised your hands in surrender. "Nothing else to do in here."

He glared at you for a moment before turning his back and making his way over to a bookshelf.

"So what's your plan for me, Stephen?"

"Doctor Strange," he asserted.

"You gonna execute me?" You cocked your head. "Hand me over to the government? Keep me locked up in here like some little exhibit you can come down and observe whenever you like?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Well if you could speed it up a little, I'd really appreciate it. My legs are getting tired from pacing this box."

He tutted, looking at you over his shoulder and pushing out his bottom lip. "You poor thing."

"For real, though, you could've at least given me a chair."

You watched as he moved his hands quickly, creating a small ring of orange sparks in the air beside him. He pointed to an old desk chair on the other side of the basement and flicked his wrist, sending it flying through the air and into the portal. The familiar hissing appeared behind you, the warmth and light illuminating the walls, but before you could turn around, the chair rolled out of another portal towards you, hitting you in the back of the legs and making you fall into it.

"Wow." You laughed, crossing one leg over the other and resting your elbows on the arms. "So can I like... request anything in here? I just say it and it appears? A basket of puppies! A million dollars!" You were smiling, highly amusing yourself. "Oh actually, I know what I should summon... One Doctor Strange, please!"  

He wasn't finding you anywhere near as funny as you were finding yourself. His face barely moving from the cold, irritated look you'd come to know well. "You don't want me in there with you," he said.

"Why? Don't trust yourself?"

He turned on his heels and approached you, his cloak swaying behind him as he walked. "No."

You raised an eyebrow. "At least you're honest. I probably wouldn't be able to resist me either."

His face broke with a slight laugh; a disdainful, contemptuous laugh. "You seem to have the wrong idea here." He leaned in until his face was almost touching the glass. "I wouldn't sleep with you if the fate of the world depended on it."

"Sheesh, you could've just said I'm not your type."

He walked away, and you couldn't take your eyes off him. You hadn't mentioned anything about sex. It was him who made that connection, meaning it was on his mind, and now it was on yours too.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your thighs. "But if the fate of the world did depend on it... Like, really depended on it..."

He paused and turned back to face you. "You know, flirting isn't really appropriate for these hero-villain confrontations..."

"Why would you call yourself a villain?"

"Hilarious."

You placed a hand on your chest, pretending to be awfully offended. "Wait, you think I'm the villain here?"

"Which one of us is in the cage right now?"

"Only because you put me here."

"After you tried to kill me."

You rolled your eyes and threw yourself back in the chair. "Ugh, get over it already."

He grumbled.

"You know all this self righteous bullshit is really tiring," you continued. "It's like the lines are so clear for you between good and bad that you can't recognise your own actions as anything but justified. You got rid of them all; no mercy, no concern for the people behind the powers you were so scared of. But heaven forbid I come and shoot one tiny little light beam at your head and suddenly I'm evil incarnate. I mean, the double standards in that-"

He spun around quickly, speaking through gritted teeth. "Do you ever shut up?"

You straightened your back. "You want me to shut up? Why don't you come in here and make me, Doctor?"

"Don't tempt me."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do."

He stormed back towards you, his blue eyes piercing through the glass. "I didn't mindlessly take anyone's life, alright!? Your creator was forming an army. He wanted to take over the world-"

"I didn't sign up to be in any army. I was sick, and he said he could fix me. I didn't know what he was planning. I didn't ask for this, I didn't want to be this."

"Funny way of showing it."

You felt the rage bubbling in your chest, your hands burning, heat emanating from your skin. You rose to your feet with such force that the chair flew back into the wall, and let out a scream, your body creating an explosion of light that shook the entire basement.

When the light faded, you took a step closer to the glass, furious to find not so much as a scratch on it. Stephen was staring at you, knees bent, anchoring his feet to the ground to stop him falling in the quake. Then he stood up straight, brushed the rubble from his shoulders and sighed.

"You see," he said. "That's why I did what I did. Because one little tantrum from someone like you and the whole world could burn to the ground."

"Oh, I have no interest in watching the world burn," you replied. "I want to watch you burn. I want you on your knees at my feet, begging for your life."

He approached you again, lowering his voice until it was nothing but a rumble in his throat. "I will never kneel for you."

"We'll see."

You turned around and looked down at the chair, letting out a huff when you saw it broken on the floor. You sat down beside it, leaning back against the wall and bringing your knees up to your chest.

You sat there for a while, staring at him as he pottered around the basement, trying to make himself busy, anything to avoid looking at you. He released his cloak from his shoulders and you watched as it floated away, like it was its own being with a mind all of its own. You wondered where it went when it wasn't attached to him, whether it moved around, curled up somewhere and rested like a tired, loyal pet, waiting until its master summoned it again.

"So," you finally broke the silence, your tone light and playful, as if you hadn't been threatening him just ten minutes earlier. "Since I'm technically locked up here, do I get my one phone call?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, willing himself to ignore you.

"Also," you continued. "If this were jail, I'm pretty sure I'd be entitled to legal counsel-"

"You'd also have the right to remain silent. Which I'd appreciate if you invoked."

You pressed your lips together firmly, drawing your fingers across them like an invisible zip. He nodded, relieved to see you finally doing as you were told, and sat down in a chair. You eyed the way he sat; like a typical man, leaned back, legs spread, taking up as much room as his body would allow. It made you think back to what he'd said earlier, that he would never sleep with you, and you found yourself absentmindedly biting your lip, wondering if he'd really meant it.

God, you needed to get out of there.

"I have to use the bathroom," you said.

"Nice try."

"What do you mean 'nice try'? I've been in here for hours."

He leaned forward. "When I said I wasn't letting you out of there, I meant it."

"Fine, I'll just pee in the corner."

He waved his hands, calling your bluff, gesturing for you to go right ahead.

You stood up and walked to the corner of your cell with a huff, glaring at him as you unzipped your long, heavy jacket and shrugged it off to the ground.

"I'm really gonna do it," you pressed.

"Sure you are."

He folded his arms and nestled further back into his chair, watching you like you were giving him a private show, waiting for you to break first. But you refused to let him win. So instead you carried on, dragging down the zip of your suit and letting it peel away slowly to reveal the bare flesh beneath it. You kept eye contact with him as you slipped your arms out and tugged it slowly down your body, past your waist and over the curve of your hips.

Finally, he looked away, and you couldn't tell if it was out of embarrassment or the need to resist temptation. "For god sakes put your suit back on."

You smiled triumphantly and pulled it back up, zipping it up to the neck and taking a step forward. "So about that bathroom break..."

He got up from his chair with an irritated groan. "Fine. But I swear if you try anything..."

"I'll be good," you replied.

With the wave of his hands, the barrier between you disappeared. You took another step and he held up his palm, halting you sternly.

"Hands where I can see them," he said.

You did as you were told, holding them up in front of you with a smirk and walking slowly out of the cell towards him. He stepped out of your way, silently instructing you to walk through the basement, remaining close behind you, eyes on your hands as he escorted you towards the staircase.

Your gaze flitted to a shelf nearby, and you knew this was your only chance. You twitched your fingers, so subtly it was almost unnoticeable, but it was enough to make the shelf fall away from the wall, landing on the ground with a loud crash. Stephen turned his head in search of the noise, allowing you the chance to ball your fist into a cluster of light and swing at him, striking him in the chest and sending him flying onto his back with a heavy thud.

Then you ran.

You didn't look back, hurrying through the cluttered basement towards the bottom of the stairs. But as you took the first step, something stopped you. You looked down to see a glowing orange rope wrapped tightly around your waist, Stephen behind you holding the other end. He yanked on it, pulling you through the air and into a nearby wall. Your back crashed against it, the bricks crumbling around you as you gasped to catch your breath.

You growled in anger, the heat in your palms burning hotter and brighter until sparks began to fly. You grabbed the glowing tether and tore it apart with your bare hands, watching it fizzle out and disintegrate in the air in front of you. You charged at him, but he stood his ground, waiting until the very last moment to raise his hand and grip you by the throat. He spun you around and slammed you against another wall, pinning you against it, his other hand raised with a disc of orange light circling in his palm.

It was only then that you noticed his hand was trembling, and at first you thought it was from anger, but then you noticed the scars on his knuckles, scoring along his fingers and tracing the bones beneath the flesh.

This was the first time you'd ever touched. No barriers; no gloves or forcefields or mystical weapons. Skin on skin, close enough to feel his laboured breath on your face, for him to feel your rapid pulse beneath his fingers.

"What happened?" You nodded towards his hand, the other still bracketing your throat.

"Car accident," he replied bluntly.

You giggled and he narrowed his eyes in anger, making it clear you'd touched a nerve.

"Oh, you're being serious," you said, struggling to speak as his grip tightened around your neck. "Sorry, I just imagined something a little more in keeping with whole sorcerer thing."

"Sorry my scars aren't interesting enough for you."

You pushed your hands against his chest, shoving him off you with such force that he stumbled backwards. He grabbed you by the arm as he fell, pulling you down with him, and you began to roll across the floor, the pair of you throwing punches and deflecting blows until you finally came to a stop.

He was lying on his back, you straddling his hips and pinning his hands to the ground. He tried to move but you kept him there, smiling down at him and opening your mouth to speak. But before any words could leave you, he flipped you over, stealing back the power with a smile of his own.

You looked around the room, your eyes landing on the shelf you'd broken; a thick, heavy plank of wood with large brass fixtures. You extended your arm and engulfed it with your powers, sending it hurtling towards him at a frightening speed. He raised his hand calmly, and for a moment you thought he was going to try and catch it. But then it changed, exploding into a burst of water that washed over you both like a tidal wave.

Your nose burned with the cold rush of water, a cough catching in your throat as you tried to steady your breath. He was looking down at you angrily, his wet hair dripping onto your face, eyes burning right through you. You hated him. Hated him so much. Yet for some reason, you didn't want to hurt him. You wanted to see him falter, to lose his composure, to blur the lines between good and bad by giving in to you. You wanted him to suffer the torment of his own bad decision.

You wanted to be his bad decision.

You brought your hand up to slap him, but he was quick, conjuring another rope that wrapped tightly around your wrist and tethered it to a large stone pillar. You growled, trying again with your other hand, only for him to do the same. Now, both wrists were bound, leaving your arms outstretched either side of you as you lay splayed out on the floor beneath him.

You could have broken free. You were strong enough, powerful enough. Yet instead you remained still, glaring up at him, waiting.

"You said you'd be good," he growled.

"More fool you for believing me," you replied.

He stared down at you, breathing heavily, the anger turning his bright blue eyes a stormy grey.

"So what's your next move, Stephen?"

"Doctor."

You swallowed hard, lowering your voice to a whisper. "You know, you didn't answer my question earlier."

"What question?"

"If the fate of the world really did depend on it..."

He lowered his head, bringing his face just inches from yours. "Not even then."

You paused for a moment. "Why don't I believe you?"

He inhaled slowly through his nose, filling his lungs to the brim before holding it there. His jaw was clenched, deep lines forming between his brows as he glared down at you.

And the last thing you expected him to do in that moment was kiss you. So when his lips crashed against yours, you gasped into his mouth. It was a hard, intense kiss, a mess of teeth and tongues, heavy breaths and low groans, like he was pouring his frustration into you, like he was finally giving in to a desire he'd been trying so hard to suppress.

You knew it. You'd known from the moment you first fought each other that his rage ran deeper than a basic need to defeat you. That every snarky comment you'd made, every flirtatious jibe and lingering stare had crawled into his mind and unravelled it, until he finally came apart completely.

You bucked your hips against him, the only part of your body you still had control over, and revelled in the sound he made; a grumble of pleasure and fury, like he was no longer battling you, but instead fighting against the conflicted thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. Hurt you, hit you, restrain you, have his way with you and throw you right back into the dungeon after he was done. Go ahead, you thought. Do your worst, Doctor.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip as he kissed you, his facial hair rough against your skin. He shifted his weight, pressing his knee firmly between your thighs, the friction agonising against the ache that had begun to swell there. You were desperate to touch him, pulling hard against your restraints until they finally broke, bursting into scatterings of orange light before fading away into nothing.

Your hands were your greatest weapon. They could kill with a single bolt of energy, could level cities, destroy worlds. Yet instead, you chose to run them up his chest, weaving your fingers into his hair and tugging on it as you rolled him onto his back.

His lips broke away from yours as he grabbed both of your wrists tightly, moving them away from him with a snarl. "I don't trust these." He gestured to your hands.

"I don't trust you," you replied sharply.

"Glad to know we're on the same page."

"What? That we're both completely stupid?"

"No." He sat up swiftly, bringing you face to face. "That I still don't like you."

A smile twitched in the corner of your mouth. "Good."

You joined in another hot, aggressive kiss, your bodies flush together as you sat in his lap. He had made it clear he didn't like you, but the hard length beneath his robes definitely did. It was bulging through the fabric, pressing against your throbbing centre as you ground your hips wantonly, desperate to feel it without the barriers of robes and suits between you.

He let go of your wrists and you immediately began undressing each other, so eagerly you were almost tearing the layers away. You dragged the heavy, dark fabric down his arms and lay a kiss on his bare chest, trailing your lips up over his collarbone. He let out a hiss as you nipped and sucked at the sensitive flesh of his neck, resisting the urge to mark him, at least for now.

The tremor in his hands did little to stop him tearing away your suit. He unzipped it, peeling it down over your shoulders and freeing your arms, letting it pool around your waist. But when he reached around and began trying to unhook your bra, the lack of dexterity in his fingers was clear. He growled in frustration as he struggled with the clasp, until eventually you decided to help him. You grabbed it by the strap and ripped it away from your body in one hard tug, returning your hands to his face and pulling him into another kiss.

He ran his hands up your waist, over your stomach, your ribs, his nails grazing the bare skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake - you sometimes forgot you were not the only one with magic hands. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them firmly and rolling his thumbs over your nipples, drawing a moan from you as you kissed him, another desperate buck of your hips.

"You know I could kill you, if I wanted to," you said, rolling your head back as he kissed your neck. "Maybe I will."

"If you were going to kill me you would have done it already."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because this is what you wanted from the beginning." He pushed you off him slowly until you were lying on your back, crawling up your body as he spoke. "The first time we finally came face-to-face. You had me there, you could've won. But I saw it."

"Saw what?"

"The fact that you act like the flirting, the lewd comments, the sexual tension is all part of your plan to antagonise me. But I know there's truth behind it." He planted his hands either side of your head, caging you against the cold, hard floor. "I know when you throw your punches, shoot out your little light beams, create problems all over the city for me to come and fix... That's just your idea of foreplay." He brought his face closer with a menacing smile. "So that's how I know you'd never kill me. Because it'd destroy any chance you ever had of getting what you really want."

"What I want is for you to pay for what you did-"

"No. What you want is for me to fuck you."

The words ripped through you, igniting a fire in your stomach and stealing the breath from your lungs. Maybe he was right, maybe that was exactly what you wanted. But hearing it out loud, in that dark voice, with those eyes staring down at you, it was like you'd never truly considered it until now. Your feud, your rivalry, your search for revenge; it was all tainted by the fact that every time you looked at him, you wanted to screw him. And you were an idiot for it. But as you felt the erection pressing against your inner thigh, you realised he was an idiot too.

You kissed him forcefully, reaching down in the narrow space between your bodies to slip your hand into the waistline of his pants. There was a part of you that always wondered if his arrogance was all for show. If his bravado was merely an overcompensation for something a little less... impressive. But you were wrong. Thank god, you were wrong. He groaned as you wrapped your fingers around his cock, and you smirked against his lips, tightening your grip and moving your hand up and down his length.

He closed his eyes, melting into your touch as he kissed you. But then he snapped out of it, jerking his hips back, taking your wrist and pulling your hand away from him.

You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek. "Still don't trust me, huh."

"Not in the slightest."

"Then what do you expect me to do if I can't touch you?"

He didn't reply, instead he stood up, pulling you to your feet and pushing you back against a tall stone pillar. You watched as he dropped to his knees in front of you, dragging your suit and underwear down your legs and casting them aside. You smirked, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging his head back to look up at you.

"And you said you'd never kneel for me," you whispered.

"This isn't for you."

"Then who's it for?"

"Me."

He grabbed one of your thighs and hooked it over his shoulder, pushing against the other to part your legs wide. You stopped breathing as his mouth made contact with your hot, yearning centre, his tongue gliding the length of your slit and flicking over your sensitive bud. He pulled back for a moment, his crystalline eyes glancing up at you, like the threat you posed was still weighing at the forefront of his mind. Then he dove back between your thighs, devouring you completely.

You threw your head back in ecstasy, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the ministrations of his tongue, how it flattened and pointed in all the right places, how he sucked and kissed and lapped over every inch of you like he was made to do nothing but this. But even through the overwhelming pleasure, you couldn't help but get the last word.

"I don't care what you say, Stephen," you whispered between heavy breaths. "This is for me. You're kneeling for me."

"For the last time, it's Doctor Strange," he replied in a low, agitated voice.

"Don't you think we're past the formalities?"

"No."

You couldn't help but weave a hand through his hair, pushing him deeper, harder against your needy centre. Your legs were shaking, moans pouring from your open mouth as each press of his tongue sent a current of electricity to your core.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, holding you firmly in place, not a tremor in sight. And you wondered if this was what he meant when he said it was for him; whether sex and pleasure and passion were some of the only moments where his fingers didn't tremble, when his bones didn't ache.

You felt your climax building, but it seemed too soon - like your mind hadn't caught up with your body, your orgasm working its way through you before you'd even had a chance to welcome it in. You didn't want to come yet, the idea of falling apart in front of him before he'd even removed his pants felt like a loss of power, like you'd be letting him win.

"Stephen," you whispered between desperate moans.

He ignored you, continuing to bury his face between your legs.

"Oh, god," you cried. "Stephen..."

Still, nothing.

You rolled your eyes. "Hey! Doctor Strange."

He pulled back slowly, looking up at you with the slightest smile.

"I need you," you breathed. "Now."

"I can tell."

"Don't be an ass." You grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him up to his full height, immediately pulling his face down to kiss you.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of where it had been, what it was capable of. He planted a hand on the pillar beside your head, his other hand working off the rest of his robes, shimmying them down until his cock sprung free against your stomach.

You snaked your arms around the back of his neck as he brought your thigh up to his waist, positioning himself at your entrance and letting the head of his cock glide along your slick folds. You angled your hips and he pushed into you, slowly at first, letting your body adjust to his size, to the desperately welcome intrusion. You gasped softly against his lips as he brought your other thigh to his waist, lifting you off the ground completely and sliding his full length into you with a low groan.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to move, drawing his hips back fully before thrusting into you again, each time with more fervour, more drive. You dug your fingers into his shoulders, moaning desperately as he pushed deeper and harder, stroking the places that made you shiver, working you back up to the climax you'd denied yourself.

Your hands were on him, the hands he'd been so cautious to avoid, now clutching at him, leaving marks in his skin. It was fascinating to you; the fact that even the most virtuous, brilliant men could lose all sense of logic the second they got laid. He didn't trust you, and you didn't trust him. Yet somehow, it just made what you were doing feel even more satisfying. Because it was forbidden, deliciously wrong.

He dropped his head forward, panting and groaning into the crook of your neck as he pounded into you, slamming your back against the hard stone with an anguishing, unrelenting rhythm. You let out a cry as he hit the perfect spot, the sensation rippling through you and making your eyes flicker with light.

That had never happened before.

You shook it away, bringing your focus back and laying kisses on his shoulder, biting softly and drawing a growl from his throat. He fixed his grip on your thighs, hoisting you further up against the pillar to stop you from slipping, his grasp so firm, thrusts so deep, that you knew you were moments away from orgasm.

"Shit," you gasped, reaching back in a desperate search for something to hold onto. But as another jolt of pleasure shot through you, your fingers ignited, creating a deep crack in the solid stone.

Your skin was growing hot, the palms of your hands burning with a familiar, dangerous energy. You tried to suppress it, but with every deep, hard slam of his hips it only seemed to grow stronger, until light was illuminating your fingertips, pulsating in time with the coiling of your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, crying out as the coil finally snapped, releasing a wave of orgasm through you, and with it, an explosion of light from your flesh. You opened your eyes, your irises glowing, your power stronger than you'd ever felt it. Stephen let out a groan, releasing his own climax into you before his attention was quickly stolen by the heat emanating from your body, the earthquake you'd accidentally caused.

The ceiling above you began to crumble, a large piece of concrete breaking away and falling down towards you. He raised a hand, creating a bright orange disc that shielded you both like an umbrella, the hunks of ceiling bouncing off it and shattering into rubble around you.

Your eyes began to fade, your body tingling with the remnants of your power as you panted to catch your breath, staring at him in a stunned silence.

That had definitely never happened before.

You didn't even know it could happen. And by the look on Stephen's face, neither did he. He pulled out of you carefully, lowering you until your feet touched the ground, and took a step back. You stayed quiet, your body so tired and spent that all you could do was watch as he looked down at his body, examining his arms, his chest. Not a scratch.

"What was that?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," you whispered.

He looked around at the destruction you'd both left behind, the crumbling walls and pillars, the fallen shelves, books and items strewn around like a hurricane had ripped through it.

“Hm,” he muttered, like he was thinking, but you were too tired to pry. 

You both dressed quickly, pulling on your clothes like costumes, each layer returning you to the roles you’d so carefully crafted for yourselves. The hero and the villain.  

"Sorry about your ceiling," you said.

"You're sorry for damaging the ceiling but not for almost killing me?"

"It's a nice ceiling."

He rolled his eyes.

"Well, this was fun," you said, extending your arm and summoning your jacket through the air towards you.

"You know I'm not just going to let you walk out of here..."

You shrugged the jacket on with a sigh. "Actually, that's exactly what you're going to do."

"Over my dead-"

"Stephen?" A voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

You looked at each other. He gritted his teeth in frustration, battling with himself about what to do - catch you and risk revealing what you just did, or letting you slip through his fingers again.

"Are you still down there?" The voice continued, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. "There was some kind of explosion, did you feel the ground shaking?"

You winked at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth as you backed away into the shadows of the basement.

He turned on his heels and cleared his throat. "Yeah, Wong, it was me- well, it wasn't me..."

"What the hell happened down here!?"

You crept around them, making your way to the stairs behind Wong's back.

"She uh, she got away," said Stephen.

"She got away?"

"Yeah... My bad."

As you hurried up the stairs and down the halls of the Sanctum, slipping out through the heavy front doors, you couldn't help but question if he'd chosen to let you go. He could have easily locked you back up, restrained you until he was able to convince Wong he had it under control. But he didn't. 

Perhaps it was for his own pride; the refusal to let his fellow sorcerers know what he'd just done. But as you ran your fingers along your neck, tracing the places he'd kissed, you wondered if there could be another reason.

#Smut #smut writing #benedict cumberbatch smut #doctor strange #doctor strange smut #benedict cumberbatch #fanfiction #fanfic #lemon #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfic writing #AO3 fanfic #ao3 recs #wattpad #wattpad recommendations #stephen strange #stephen strange fanfiction #fanfic oneshot #oneshot #enemies to lovers #the villain #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Mmm imagine Kars wanting a concubine to tend to him, but he's annoyed that since there aren't any Pillar Men/Women (who would traditionally make up a leader's harem) aside from his companions, he has to settle for a fragile human. Pillar Men traditionally don't keep humans as concubines or spouses since they're so fragile and short-lived, plus they seem to need sunlight to stay healthy. But, Kars is too prideful to tend to himself on his own and wants a pet to take care of his "stress". He decides if they break, he'll just find another one he likes to take the role.

Wammuu is eager to procure the very best human for his master, and he tries to find one that matches Lord Kars's preferences. And lo and behold, he finds one! He simply approaches them the night he discovers them and very politely informs them that they've been chosen to fulfill a VERY prestigious honor: they're to be Lord Kars's concubine. With his size and power, there's no way Darling can deny him. If they do he'll just put them over his shoulder and carry them, and kill whoever gets in his way.

If they're more accommodating, he'll escort them to their home to bring a few sentimental items as a gesture of goodwill. He's never entered a human home before, and he's a little curious and looks around while Darling is tearfully getting their things. If Darling has a pet, Wammuu says that it can come as well; Kars has an appreciation for living creatures, and he wouldn't wish to separate it from its master.

Kars is very pleased when he comes to his bedchamber and sees his little human asleep, with visible tearstains on their cheeks and looking so wonderfully vulnerable in the revealing silky clothing that Wammu had given to them. All of their own attire wasn't fit for their role, since they need to wear things that display their beauty and are also very easy to remove. But the outfit Wammu dressed them in was perfect. Kars wished he had one of those human-made boxes that capture images, just to preserve how they look.

He knows that humans sleep during the night and he wants them to stay healthy, but he doesn't make much of an effort to keep them from waking up as he settles into bed with them and holds their body against him. They're so small that he can pick them up with one arm around their waist. And their soft thighs are the perfect thing to keep his cock warm for this first night as his pet. He'd like to put his cock all the way inside of them, but he knows that his new pet would need some preparation before that.

If they wake up, he'll smile and toy with them while using those large hands of his to make them nice and complaint and needy, the way a good pet should be. If they try to resist he'd easily overpower them with barely any effort and warn them that he won't tolerate any misbehaving, even if it IS their first night as his concubine.

He enjoys having them sit in his lap regardless of whether or not he's turned on. The first thing he trains them to do is take his cock with their hands and mouth so they can tend to him while he does something else, like reading or just relaxing. Their primary goal in life is to please him, and he loves whenever they start to let their arousal and excitement show through their fear. He definitely has a corruption kink lol.

Taking his Darling's virginity would be nice, but he won't be upset if they've had sex before. He's the first Pillar Man to grace them with his cock, and he's going to mould and shape them into the perfect pet until all they can think of and remember is how good his cock feels.

Wants his cock worshipped SOOO often. Even if it's a lazy kind of worship, eg. Darling using one hand to stroke his cock or rubbing themselves against him while they read something from his library. His favorite sight is them giving sweet little kitten licks and stroking him with both hands.

He'll use them any time, no matter what they're doing. They'll wake up to him fingering them and prepping them for his cock, or they'll be interrupted from ehatever they're doing by him bending them over or scooping them into his lap. Soon he's got them trained to get wet as soon as he touches them and gives them the order to service him.

He doesn't mind sharing his concubine with his comrades, though he makes sure Darling is prepped with a lot of foreplay to avoid breaking them. Just his cock inside of them is already at their human limits, so two or even three Pillar Men at the same time needs some preparation.

During these times, Wammu is the one in charge of giving Darling oral and making sure they cum at least once before anyone puts their cock inside. As another one of Kars's servants, he's happy to work with Darling to please him. He still views Darling as "beneath" him since they're a human, but they're still Lord Kars's pet and so he is eager to serve him by serving them.

Expect daily--hell, hourly overstimulation. Darling will be fucked into unconsciousness and then wake up to getting fucked even harder by their master and his high stamina. And this is double for any orgies involving the other Pillar Men. It becomes a game for them to see how many times Kars's human can cum before losing consciousness. Humans are such fragile little things, but that's part of their charm. And Kars is so happy to have his pet at his side and in his bed.

#.kars #.jjba #.pillar men #.wammu #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #yandere kars #yandere jjba #.myshit #thots