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#beasts are only appreciated in their cages.... BARS
hauntingblue · 4 months
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Usopp you better work.....
#franky saying he is going to destroy this place just bcz ajdjakd#see he is merciful bc he could just kuma laser them and thats done.... but alas....#luffy saying usopp will do what is needed.... well he could have done it a thousand times by now#usopp do not run away wtf... i will make sn illustration book to show the future generations how brave they were omg ajfbskw#this is a new low for usopp i think.... like put on the sogeking mask and get to work man#also my girl robin turned into a doll.... unforgivable#tontatta species going extinct after this operation lmao#oh god..... well this is tunring around#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 674#kyros (15 years old): 💪🏻😤💪🏻#oh he has rebecca's reputation oof#beasts are only appreciated in their cages.... BARS#yeah scarlett put that mans whole development down yeees!!!#maybe rebecca is a product of asexual reproduction because scarlett just did a copy paste....#this man is not fucking... maybe he said we should have a baby and scarlett said aight and next day she is pregnant.. he asks no questions#haha kyros you are fucking my daughter 👍🏻😃#ahskahskaq she said i marry him or DIE !#and she did ahdkahdk#kyros using gloves to hold rebecca... the mental illnesses of this guy#the use of smash cuts in one piece is incomparable.... either i marry him or die!! *smash cut to her funeral* lmao#the people that have devil fruit powers.... like it looks like most of them ate them bc they were looking for them for power....#but like apart from luffy and chopper whi were accidental... robin and violet ate them so young??? and they dont explain if its an accident#bc robin ate it between 2(!!) and 8.... why where how? and viola is like 10 and already has her power... why would the youngest daughter#get a devil fruit and not the oldest that is going to get the throne.... idk man but there can't be that many accidents#oh he cut off his leg.... damn#this is some dreal drama jesus christ#my barrier cannot block verbal attacks 💀💀💀 barto.....#episode 676
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seethesin · 7 months
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green eyed monster
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pairing: Vampire!Hazel Callahan x F!Monster Hunter!Reader
tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, supernatural/vampire au, jealous!reader, teasing, blood kink, biting, praising, fingerfucking, clitoral stimulation (18+, mdni)
a/n: sequel to vampires everywhere! enjoy 😌
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Ever since you met Hazel in her mausoleum, you couldn't get enough of her. It was against your nature to let her roam free, but how were you supposed to dispatch her when she was mouthing your cunt like it was the only thing keeping her on this earth? You never experienced a fraction of the pleasure she provided before and selfishly, you allowed whatever this... situationship was to continue.
"You know, this place was not what I was expecting."
For a bar dedicated to monsters, you were anticipating something more… monstrous. Instead, The Last Drop looked and felt like any nightclub you’ve had the pleasure of attending. Vampires, werewolves, ghouls, and everything in between coexisted here peacefully. No one was sloppy and miraculously, no one started a fight. You deferred your inquisitive gaze to Hazel, wordlessly asking for her validation of your observation.
Instead, she was bobbing her head along to some unnaturally sounding house music, grin wide as she nodded over the bartender. There were no words, just a cacophony of noises and beats that pumped through the sound system.
It wasn’t your place to judge her music taste, no matter how bombastic.
“Oh it’s great in here,” she replied joyfully, starting a tab for the both of you. She was still nodding her head around and if your circumstances were different, it would have been endearing.
Ironically, you two were under the guise of a ‘couple.’ More specifically, a vampire and her willing feeder. The idea of it made you gag, but it seemed like the best way for you to get in without being swarmed.
Hazel's arm draped loosely over your back, hand sprawled on your barstool to cage you to her side. Her actions could be read as either possessive or protective—both serving as a reminder that you were now in the belly of the beast. You didn’t resist and instead, leaned in closer.
“What do you want to drink?” Hazel asks and you shift your attention back to her and the undead bartender already reaching for two cups. His skin was deathly pale and his veins were completely visible. There were gashes on his arms and a chunk of his skull was missing. The thought of his bodily fluids accidentally dripping into your cup made you shudder. You looked away quickly, more focused on picking around the skin of your nails.
“Surprise me.”
Hazel nods, looking back at the bartender.
“Okay, Randy. Give me a bloody mary and whiskey sour.” You scrunch your nose, elbowing Hazel gently in the side.
“Whiskey sour?” you parrot incredulously. She begins to giggle before pulling you in closer. Her hand grips your thigh; a warning to those around you both as to who you came with and who you will be leaving with.
It makes your clit throb.
“Because you’re such a sourpuss.” You roll your eyes and Hazel takes your reaction as a tiny victory. "Loosen up!"
But that was the thing. You couldn’t.
You still had a job to do, one that required the vampire’s assistance. You were here to collect a bounty for a renowned werewolf named Nimue. The payout was too great to ignore, even after splitting it in half with Hazel. Thankfully through the grapevine a la The Last Drop, Hazel had a contact that knew more.
That contact was in the form of her ex-girlfriend.
To specify further, Hazel's werewolf ex-girlfriend, Stella-Rebecca.
Apparently, she knew everything there was to know about your target: what she liked, how she spoke, the demeanor she held. Her expansive knowledge would be appreciated, especially when a few million dollars was on the line.
"What type do ya want?" Randy's gravelly voice cuts through your thoughts and you bring your gaze between him and Hazel. "Or do you just want it from her?"
He gestures to you and you stare at them both. Suddenly, the insinuation becomes clear and you jerk back in surprise.
"You take your bloody mary with actual blood?"
Hazel deadpans to you, brows quirked upward.
"How else would I take my bloody mary?"
Randy cackles, delighted at your naivety. He presses a glass cup into a fountain behind the counter, filling it partially with coagulated blood.
"No antigens for you, eh, Hazel?" She smirks, shrugging simply as he adds vodka, juices, and a few sauces and spices you can't make out into the glass. He connects it to a shaker, shaking roughly before pouring it out into a cup.
"I'll take what I can get."
It only takes a minute or two more for both of your drinks to be finished. You drink yours easily, but can't help your curiosity as you watch Hazel suck down the nasty combination. A whiskey sour was definitely the way to go.
Back to business. "Alright, what does Stella-Rebecca look like?"
Hazel gives a throaty hum, putting her cup down.
"She's a brunette: short, curvy, and—oh."
"What?"
"She's uh, she's already here."
"What?" Quickly, you scan the bar around you for a woman with any of the traits Hazel described. "Where?"
"Right there." Hazel's hand is on your hip, guiding you towards the right where the door is.
Stella-Rebecca was a smokeshow.
She walked with an air of confidence. Her head was held high, as her black heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She wore a form fitting, flattering emerald green dress with a black clutch wrapped around her wrist. Her full face of makeup was immaculate and Hazel needed to tug you back to keep you from gaping like a lunatic.
“She’s your ex?” you ask in a high pitched whisper, peeling more laughter from the vampire’s throat.
“Yes ma’am.”
“She’s—” Incredible. The silent compliment hangs on your tongue, but Hazel didn’t have to read your mind to know what you were thinking. It makes her smile as she watches Stella-Rebecca slide into the empty barstool next to her.
“Oh my gosh, Hazel! It’s been like, forever since I’ve seen you!”
She leans forward, snatching Hazel into a hug by her shoulders. The tight grip makes Hazel's eyes go wide and you can't help but smirk. For a split second, you wonder which of them would win a fight, one-on-one.
Stella-Rebecca lets her go and immediately, her attention is on you. You anticipated a dirty look or a roll of her eyes, but instead, she flashed you a bright, toothy smile. Your heartbeat stutters—no wonder why Hazel dated her. She's pretty and nice.
"And who is this adorable thing?" She simpers, tone genuinely sweet as she leans closer to get a better look at you.
You introduce yourself quickly, taking mental note of how unnaturally her brown eyes glowed in the dim lighting. She goes to shake your hand after introducing herself and you can feel her manicured, claw-like nails against your skin. Past instances with werewolves never lasted this long and that fact alone unnerved you.
Hazel's grinning at your exchange and you suddenly feel very anxious. Your hands weave together, thumbs bouncing off one another as Stella-Rebecca turns her attention back to the vampire.
"I like her, Haze."
Haze. Something about the familiarity of that pet name makes your stomach turn. Your blood thumps against your ears and you bite down on the inside of your lip.
"There's a lot to like," Hazel muses charmingly, causing the other girl to giggle as if Hazel was referring to her. Flush crawls up your neck to the tips of your ears. You didn't want to admit it, but you were jealous of their relationship. Even if they weren't dating anymore, they acted as if they were picking up from where they left off.
"I appreciate you came by on such short notice, Stella-Rebecca," You interject quickly, catching both girls off guard. Hazel quirks a brow at you, staring intently into your eyes. After a moment, a ghost of a smile tugs on her lips.
She knows.
Blunt fingernails dig into your hip, pulling you even closer. Hazel wears a devil-may-care smile as she turns back to Stella-Rebecca.
"What can you tell us about Nimue?"
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Thank god for Stella-Rebecca.
Seriously.
Every question you and Hazel asked she answered completely and swiftly. You weren't sure if there was a personal vendetta between her and Nimue, but Stella-Rebecca did not hold back with each answer she gave. With the information you collected through a series of voice memos, you felt more confident than ever in your mission.
However, it seemed like you held back the entire interrogation. Your jaw was perpetually clenched every time Hazel and Stella-Rebecca laughed over an inside joke or reminisced on old memories. Your palms ached from the constant half-moons you dug into your skin. The way they looked at each other held so much history that it made you nauseous.
You didn't speak during the car ride back to your home, nor did you say anything to each other once you stepped inside. Luckily for Hazel, you had already invited her in previously. She was able to follow you in without leaking blood from every orifice of her body.
Your carpets get to live another day.
"Is there uh," Hazel starts, watching as you settle onto your sofa and scroll through the dozens of voice memos you recorded from earlier this evening. "Anything you want to talk about?"
"Nope." Your lips purse at the end, popping audibly. "Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if she wants to talk."
Hazel approaches you slowly like one would a cornered animal. Her footsteps are light and you were convinced you saw her smile through your peripherical vision.
"You know I can read your mind, right?"
You don't respond.
"So that means I know what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking then, Hazel?" you finally snip, causing her grin to grow. You blink and she's already leaned forward, centimeters from your face. Her breath fans against your lips and reflexively, your tongue darts out to wet them.
She chuckles.
"You've been thinking about how much you want me," she purrs, her lids heavy as she stares at your mouth. She wasn't wrong and it makes you grit your teeth. Blush dusts your cheeks and you glare at her.
"Fuck you."
"We could if you'd stop being a sourpuss."
Your hands connect to Hazel's shoulders and you shove her down onto the sofa. You crawl on top of her, straddling her hips before leaning in to kiss her. Hazel's sneering into your kiss, swallowing your lips before flickering her tongue in between them.
The air around you turns ten degrees warmer around you and you paw at one another. Both of you shed your clothing, ripping layer upon layer from your bodies and discarding them on the floor.
Hazel is now sitting up, back pressed against the cushions as you remain mounted on her lap. Her mouth is between your breasts: kissing, biting, and sucking the delicate skin to the point of drawing blood. Her dexterous tongue laps it up eagerly, causing a string of moans to squeeze from your throat. Her dominant hand slips underneath the waistband of your underwear as her middle and ring fingers rub against your slit.
"Were you this wet all night?" she whispers against your chest and you don't respond.
Instead, you weave your fingers through her brown tresses. Once they're ingrained, you give her hair a firm tug, making her grunt. It's enough of an answer for her and she buries the digits easily into your cunt, humming in pleasure. You straighten, lifting your hips just enough to give Hazel more room.
"Good girl." Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise while another moan bubbles from your chest. "Can you continue being good for me tonight?"
You nod. Hell, she could have asked you to streak around your neighborhood in that husky voice and you would have nodded until your neck snapped.
As a reward, her fingers curl inside you, pressing against your fleshy walls and you whine. Your hips grind down further on Hazel's hand, greedily stealing as much friction as you can. Her other hand grips the fat of your ass, keeping you still while her lips meander up to your neck. A playful but stern bite comes soon after and you gasp, pushing your hips into hers. Hazel's fangs pierce your skin and her tongue washes over your skin to soothe the damage.
"Fuck, Hazel," you sputter, burying her face between your breasts as your knees begin to dig into her hips. You're so close. "Touch my clit too, baby."
Her laughter vibrates against your chest and she dutifully complies. You feel her thumb brushing against your clit as she continues to fuck you. The sensations begin to overwhelm you and involuntarily, your body starts to shudder.
"Like this, princess?" You don't trust your voice and instead nod, soon realizing that she couldn't see you doing so.
After a moment, you choke out a: "Feels so good."
"Then you'll love this." Her lips latch onto your nipple and your eyes roll back as soon as you feel her suck.
Hazel was right.
You cum with a shout, your body going rigid as you grip her hair for dear life. Her hand on your ass loosens so that you can wriggle your hips and ride out the remainder of your orgasm. Slowly, you find yourself coming back to reality. You hear Hazel's lips smack together as they pull away from your breast. A lazy, impish smile tugs at her lips as she stares up at you.
"Feeling better?"
You're still panting, eyes fluttering open as you hold onto Hazel's shoulders. Slowly, you lift your hips to allow Hazel to pull her hand back. Her slick-covered fingers are already in her mouth and unabashedly, you watch her suck them clean.
"Better," you agree, tilting Hazel's head up. She looks up at you and eagerly accepts the kiss you press on her lips. You last like that for a few moments longer before you break the kiss.
"You know," she starts and your brows arch expectantly. "If this is how you get when you're jealous—"
"Do not finish that sentence, Haze."
The both of you blink in surprise, not expecting the nickname to sound so natural coming out of your mouth. You can't stop yourself from blushing and Hazel cups your face, forcing you to look at her. She beams before peppering more kisses against your skin.
"You keep calling me that and I'll do anything you want."
"Anything?" Hazel nods curtly and your fingers wrap around her wrists. She watches you intently as you contemplate your next sentence. A wave of confidence washes over you suddenly and you look her right in the eyes.
"I want you to take me out after we find Nimue and collect her bounty."
Obviously, Hazel was not anticipating this request by the way her eyes widened. She recovers quickly, blinking away her shock before grinning dumbly.
"Like... on a date date?"
You can't help but giggle at the childish wonder in her voice.
"Yes, Haze, a real date."
She yanks you forward into an embrace and you realize now just how cold her bare body is. You shiver as her hands slide up your naked back, the steel of her rings searing your skin.
"I think I already have some ideas."
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finniestoncrane · 17 days
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ILL DO YOU ONE BETTER,,, cooper fic where he's napping,,, WITH DOGMEAT
Companion
Cooper Howard, word count: 600 please my fuckin heart and soul!! man i love introspective things, i love dogs, i love horrible men who can be soft sometimes, i love horrible men who love animals ;-; 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: lil bit of angst but mostly some fluff!
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Finally off of their feet for the day, Cooper let out a deep, long sigh. The cool night air was a welcome change from the desert heat they had travelled through, but it was still stifling, choking him. Smothering. Suffocating. Trying to give himself some breathing room, he kicked his leg out to the side, scraping it along the dust, trying to kick up a barrier between him and his new companion.
“Get, boy.”
It wasn’t just the air, no longer sweltering but still somehow thick. It was the presence of someone with him, along for the ride. It had been so long since he’d had someone with him, longer still since that someone had actually wanted to be with him.
And despite trying his hardest to push him away, the dog he had decided to bring along with him was determined to offer itself to Cooper. Like it sensed something in him that he might have been aware of, but wasn’t willing to accept.
So there he sat in the dark, lit only by the slowly dying fire, trying his best to shrug off the affectionate advances of the dog by his side.
“You ain’t him, boy.”
Cooper leaned back in the rusted garden chair by the fire, watching the flames dance as he took one last swig from his canteen in the hopes that the bitter liquid inside would help him fall into an easier sleep.
As he sat he considered the strange, tethered feeling, familiar as it was, of having someone look to him for companionship. He was so hyper aware of all the years that had gone by. Decades, turning into centuries before his eyes. Whether he was blinking in the sun or trying to find anything in the darkness from his coffin underground. Everything that had passed by, everything he’d seen that he never thought he would, that he hoped he never would. The people who came and went, those like him, those not.
Loyal pets. One loyal pet.
He couldn’t add another to the list. Who knew how long he’d be around. Who knew how long he could stave off the feral nature that was bubbling inside of him. A wild beast in a cage whose iron bars were wearing thinner each passing day.
What if he hurt them? Turned before he could take himself away from them? Refused to let him go?
What if they hurt him? Like so many others had.
How many of them had come and gone? In two hundred years, how many people had passed through his life, willingly or unwillingly. It would never get easier, at least it hadn’t yet. But the way that the paw settled on his leg, a knowing whine as the dog pushed him to take the comfort, he considered how much difference it would really make for him to take a risk again.
He slid onto the ground, his body relaxing onto the thin bedroll. And when the warm body of his new companion settled down in front of him, he didn’t push away. He placed a hand into the fur, accepting the warmth, the comfort. Something he still needed even after all this time.
Cooper’s eyes sparkled in the reflection of the flames, wet with a bittersweet sadness that overcame him. Of everyone he missed, there was something unique about the loyal bond of a man and his dog. And Dogmeat reminded him of what he had lost, but what he might gain from softening just a little.
“No… you ain’t him, Dogmeat. But I appreciate it all the same.”
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onouwu · 10 months
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Dr Omiata's Depravity - Capturing an Assassin
1st chapter HERE Resuming her duties at the castle, Ellie prowled the war-torn landscape once more, her senses attuned for another captivating treasure amidst the chaos of battle. The thrill of the hunt and the anticipation of a new discovery fueled her as she navigated the battlefield with a newfound sense of purpose.
Hours of relentless fighting passed, and just when the day seemed to blend into an endless symphony of clash and carnage, her heart missed a beat. Across the battlefield, a figure caught her eye. A woman, her fiery red hair a stark contrast against the cold gray stone of the castle walls, was attempting to scale the fortress. An assassin, perhaps, intent on a covert mission.
Ellie, her instincts on high alert, dashed towards the woman, her swift feet carrying her like a shadow. Before the woman could notice her, Ellie had her locked in a powerful chokehold. Her desperation was powerful, but her delicate form could hardly leverage resistance. The woman’s chest heaved with an urgency that was both distressing and captivating. Ellie felt the woman’s body writhe in her iron grip, each muscle straining against her hold in a desperate bid for freedom. A twisted thrill filled Ellie's veins. As she grabbed the woman tightly and dropped to her knees, she took in the feeling of this vibrant life in her grasp. The woman's chest billowed against her grip. Her core felt lively yet delicate and soft contrast to the modest tone of her arms and legs. Her skin was pale as the snow, barely hiding the delicate blue streaks just beneath the surface. Her chest, lightly dusted with a smattering of freckles, began to express her body's limits. It rose and fell in an erratic rhythm, each rise a plea for air, each slowing fall a testament to her fading strength. Her swollen pink face contorted in agony as drool ran down either side of her cheeks onto Ellie's arm.
The assassin's heart pounded like a wild beast against the bars of its cage. It was a powerful, frantic rhythm that reverberated throughout the woman's torso, a raw, primal drumline that became more vivid as her lungs calmed down. Its ferocious beating echoed the woman's will to survive and called Ellie's hand to her sternum. Ellie could feel the desperation, the determination, the unyielding spirit that resided within the fragile form of the woman and nothing excited her more.
However, as the woman's strength waned and her arms and legs fell limp to her side, the heart as well, once punching away at her palm in protest, gradually settled into a slow and inconsistent beat. With one final desperate gasp, the woman's fight for survival came to a close. The woman lay still and silent, the only sounds coming from her a shallow labored breath. Ellie scooped the unconscious woman into her arms and carried her back to her home. Once they were inside, she carefully placed the redhead onto the bed, taking a moment to appreciate her new prize's radiant beauty. There was something enchanting about her, a wild, untamed fire that burned bright even in her unconscious state. Ellie straddled the unconscious woman, her own heart pounding with anticipation as she ran fingers through her hair and explored her like a prize, a trophy of this senseless war. ...
There was little to stop Ellie, who knew that to the world around her, she had nothing but an enemy, less a human than a sack of meat. Still, she was lost in her admiration. Her fingers coveted the soft curves of the redhead's delicate form while her vitals became stronger and more stable by the second. The woman's eyes fluttered open. Lost in the moment, Ellie was taken by surprise. She watched and felt every second of this recovery, but she hadn't planned for what to do. "no-no, not yet, sweetie." Ellie said softly. Her words an angel's hymn, but her intentions a cruel exercise of power. Before the woman had a chance to gather her bearings, Ellie’s hand was around her throat. The woman's eyes widened with terror, that vibrance Ellie felt sitting in the dirt, it was back and more beautiful than ever. Ellie reveled in the control she wielded.
Ellie rested a hand on the redhead's chest, both to support herself and feel the turmoil within. The woman's heart beat erratically under the stress, her hands wrapping around Ellie's arm but to no avail. The strong and steady thump turned into a frantic scramble as her weakened body was consumed by panic. Ellie was keenly aware of the woman's fragile state as a doctor, yet she couldn't help but savor the rush of depraved bliss.
Suddenly, the frantic beat under Ellie's hand stilled, replaced by an unsettling silence. Panic seized her as she realized the woman’s heart had gone into failure.
Ellie's medical training kicked in. She began chest compressions. "Stay with me," she muttered to the still-conscious woman who struggled for breath even with her neck free of pressure.
As Ellie's hands pressed down into the woman's chest, she savored the sensation of the woman's taut and petite frame yielding beneath her weight, her sternum creaking slightly under the pressure, the softness of her bosom cushioning her exertion. The woman's heart beneath her palm, quickly started pumping weakly but determinedly... but Ellie didn't stop. The excitement filled her mind, it made her heart pound. Instead, she continued, fueled by a strange exhilaration. The poor muscle squirmed in a dysrhythmic paralysis under Ellie's command, each sporadic pump an echo of the rhythm she dictated. It was a testament to her will over the beautiful redhead's pallid little chest and the struggling vitality within.
The woman's feeble hands could barely rise in protest; ineffective against Ellie's relentless thrusts into her core. Each pump of her hands, each rebound of the woman's delicate ribs it only reinforced her dominance.
The woman's heart finally gave up, and ceased to beat on its own, the rhythm now entirely dictated by Ellie's hands. It was as if the woman had given in completely, surrendering her very life force to Ellie's whims. Her arms dropped and her eyes glazed over as if in the twilight of consciousness,
With every thrust, Ellie could see the blood coursing through the woman's veins, making them bulge against her neck. the plump little organ responding only to her command. It was a heady sensation - one that sent shivers down Ellie's spine. ---
The redhead's eyes fluttered open to the dim light that filled the room. She winced as a dull throb pulsed through her chest. Looking down across her naked form, she saw the telltale signs of bruising marring her once pristine skin, a deep purple testament to the ordeal she had been put through by the sadistic castle guard. Ellie's touch was indelibly etched into her flesh, a reminder of the terrifying hunger the woman wielded.
Her heart pounded erratically and sharply against her bruised sternum; each beat a reminder of what happened. The woman had played her heart like a musical instrument.
She tried to move, to rise, to escape. But the cold, unforgiving shackles bit into her bare skin, confining her wrists and ankles to the bed. She was trapped, helpless, a prisoner to the whims of her captor.
Ellie was not done with her. The thought sent a chill down her spine. The shackles were proof of that. Each metal loop was a silent promise of more to come, each chain a grim foreshadowing of her fate. Ellie had a taste of her helplessness, and the game was far from over.
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When you're having a slow work day so you get some writing in...
She rolled to her knees and wrapped her hands around the bars to keep herself steady, watching the Judge that curled up in the dirt on the other side. Its sharp teeth shimmered with saliva stained pink from its last meal as it snarled at her for encroaching on its territory. And she realized for the first time that the Judges knew their place here. Their role, their purpose, were as weapons, and in return, they were given what they needed – food, protection, survival. They were broken down by the cult, made into more of what they already were with all the weakness cut out of them. No more fear, no more suffering. They had embraced their gift. 
This was her test. 
She’d fought for so long, it was all she’d ever known. Never allowed to give in to her own desires, to have her needs met. The only care she ever knew was that of her father and the love she so desperately craved of his, making her willing to do anything at all to get it. 
Starving, hungry. 
An act of desperation, obsession for an ounce of approval. Loyalty given to someone who never appreciated it. Utter devotion. Like a pet, beaten and refused affection, and still she followed the leash wherever it took her. The same mistakes made over and over again all in a bid to win something she’d never been allowed to touch. 
Control.
All she wanted was to be embraced for what she was, the glory of that true face that hid beneath all the layers and masks - the ones she forced on herself to meet the standards of everyone else. Here, in this place, in this cage, in these mountains, she was allowed to be the beast she really was. She didn’t have to hide. She could fight, and she could kill, and she wasn’t frowned upon. She wasn’t a monster. She belonged. 
There was a hand on her leash that she no longer had to fear would strike her, beating the darkness out of her. Instead, it coaxed it out of her, fed it, stroked its chin, and praised it. 
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kiwi245 · 11 months
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Of Heart And Sol: Part 2
~of feathers and flames~
The lot door slammed shut, and I stood there for a moment, considering what to do next.
I had called Yair and explained the situation in the Truck Yard, though I said nothing about the SolarWing. He told me to clock out for the night.
Very slowly, I turned back to face my small lot, eyes drawn to the white cage in the corner.
I owned a dragon
I owned a dragon.
There were so many wounds to asses. So many horrid ways this creature had been tormented. Scales had grown over the clamps set into his wings, removing them without further injury was impossible. The leather muzzle locked tightly over his jaws had worn down the scales, the skin beneath raw and infected. Truthfully, I wondered how the dragon had yet to give up. His body told thousands of stories, every tale marked by a hideous scar.
But I could fix him. I was certain of it. I simply needed him to hold on- to never stop fighting.
I spent the night dressing wounds, and setting bones with what little medical supplies I had. A small hand held x-ray device assisted me in my tedious work, but my supplies were old and worn. Technically it all belonged to Yair. Every salve and wrap I used, I stole. But I doubted Yair would mind. If all went as I figured, he wouldn't even know.
The dragon’s breathing was sharp and unpredictable. He needed nourishment, needed energy to keep fighting against the pain, and I knew this, but I tried to appreciate every peaceful moment, fully expecting the red dragon to become an absolute monster when he awoke- but instead, I found his demeanor to be quite the opposite.
It was early morning when the SolarWing woke, and I had been working on cleaning a deep, jagged wound on the dragon’s neck, the flesh a nasty, angry red- it wasn’t a terrible infection, but if left unattended, it would certainly grow worse.
I had already removed the scabs, and was washing out the wound with iodine when the SolarWing jerked back, slamming his head against the white, steel bars.
I practically fell out of the cage, a million regrets surging through my mind as I kicked the door shut, scrambling back on my hands and knees.
The SolarWing curled in on himself, his movements jerky and sluggish.
Slowly I stood, watching as the dragon pushed himself against the cage wall, cowering behind a massive wing.
I released a quick breath, glancing away for a moment before I silently approached the cage, feeling my heart ache for the trembling beast before me. He was truly a grand creature, but so very malnourished.
I reached for my bag through the cage bars, dragging the pack towards me. At the sound of movement. The SolarWing tensed, his body absolutely rigid as I dug through my bag, retrieving a slab of dried beef. Watching tremors rack up the massive wing, which the SolarWing hid behind, I silently wondered when the dragon had last unfurled his wings, the clamps, which I had removed, must have restricted the movement for months, and I could only imagine how painful the awakened muscles must feel.
For a moment, I stood beside the cage, a silent argument raging in my mind.
Often, I was too quick to trust, and this had yet to bite me back. But I was wary of this dragon, and I seldom felt such emotions towards any being.
The SolarWing shuddered. He needed sustenance. This fact pounded into my mind for a moment longer before I unlocked the cage door. The dragon pulled his outstretched wing against himself, his bony form jutting out behind the wing membrane.
“Hey, hey, easy,” I whispered in dragon, cutting the meat package open. I grabbed my water bottle. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The dragon did not react, his entire body heaving with constricting breaths. I set the slab of beef down, removing the shrink wrapped packaging as I placed my water bottle beside the meat. A distant feeling of unease lurked, but I chased the emotions back, leveling my gaze as I stared down the dragon. He was huge, yes, easily dwarfing me in size, but far too weak, far too injured to fight back.
With careful steps, I approached the SolarWing. Positioning myself between the cage door and the creature, I reached out with a gentle hand, my fingers barely touching the deep red scales before the SolarWing lurched back. He threw his entire body back, retreating to the right corner of the cage where he huddled behind his wing.
Determined, I pursued the creature, my confidence growing as the tight muzzle still clamped down on the dragon's snout flashed into view.
I needed the SolarWing to see me- to realize I was no threat.
With a caring touch, I pulled the dragon’s wing back, slamming my boot down on the loose muzzle straps when he tried to escape my touch. The dragon shuddered, jerking back with desperate horror.
I knelt down beside the dragon, pinning his snout with my knee.
He was terribly easy to hold down, too weak to do much but tremble, already having spent the little energy he had. I pushed the dragon’s neck up against the bars, his muscles spasming like a dying animal.
It was moments like this when I began to question my profession. When my emotions fed off the creature in my care, when I felt sick on behalf of my patient. Perhaps this was a good thing. I never wanted to grow used to this, never desired to belittle a life. I sucked in a sharp breath, calming my nerves as I held the dragon down, feeling his energy drain, his movement grow slower and slower.
It was strange seeing such an awesome terror in the SolarWing’s eyes- it left him helpless, completely incapacitated in fear. Tears welled and streaked his scales. He took shaking, quick breaths, too exhausted to cry properly.
Truly, it was sickening.
Three days passed.
I told no one of the SolarWing- not even Cersei, though she seemed rather suspicious when I turned down her dinner offer.
Every free moment I dedicated toward the dragon.
It took a lot to get him to eat or drink, and I could never tell how much went in and how much came back up. By the second week things seemed more hopeful. The dragon still cowered and retreated, but he could eat on his own, and I no longer had to deal with the tedious work of forcing food down his throat, forcing his weak jaws shut with the muzzle straps until he swallowed. But even when the first full month passed by and he had regained what little strength his healing body could muster, he never made a move to injure me in any way.
He was still terrified, yes, but he never responded with aggression- and I appreciated that.
One night I was returning to my lot after a late night at work. Cersei had been particularly close the entire evening, talking about Roe mostly, until I bid her goodnight, promising we would talk more on the matter tomorrow- not that I cared about Roe in the least bit, I simply wanted to appease Cersei and bring a possible end to her sudden clingy nature.
Cersei had offered to join me on my walk back to my lot, and, even though I politely turned down her offer multiple times, she followed me back anyway. I let her ramble on about Roe, a silent debate warring in my mind on whether I should show Cersei the dragon or not.
I had just come to a decision when I realized, with sudden embarrassment, that Cersei had asked me a question.
“Pardon?” I said with an apologetic glance, catching Cer’s concerned expression.
“I said-... Did I do something to upset you?”
I’m positive I blushed, clearing my throat and shaking my head quickly. “Nono, not at all. Why, Cer?”
She shrugged, stopping abruptly before she leaned up against the wall, and with sudden confusion, I realized we had already reached my lot door.
“I just… August, you look so tired, like, all the time, and we don’t speak outside of work, you’ve turned down my offers to come over… we don’t hangout anymore.”
Now this I saw an as absolutely absurd comment, and, with quick retaliation, I half snapped, “Cersei, I literally just spent the entire evening listening to you drone on about Roe-”
“Exactly.” She interrupted, blocking my path as I moved to unlock my lot door, “you hardly said a word! I don’t get it. Something’s changed. And I wish you would.. tell me. Like how I tell you all of my problems?”
I felt as though she were hinting at something more serious, more… relationship related. I bit my lip.
“That’s what friends do, August.” Cersei continued. “They help each other. Something’s wrong, right? What is it?”
I pushed past Cersei, sliding my thumb across the small scanner beside the door. The door opened, and I entered the lot, letting my backpack slide off my shoulder. I glanced at Cersei, who stood in the doorway for a few, silent seconds, then paced towards the lab cage, realization creeping across her features.
Sudden regret pounded through my mind as I watched her study the SolarWing, who, as predicted, had fled to the farthest corner of the cage.
This entire time I had been stealing medical supplies from Yair- I never could have afforded it on my own, I hardly made enough to pay for my own small lot and food. Cersei certainly knew this, and for a moment I truly regretted not spending more quality time with her as of recent, wishing I hadn't unknowingly upset her. But the worry faded when Cersei turned to me, her eyes full of concern.
“How long have you had him?”
I dropped my gaze, lugging my backpack over to the blankets in the corner of the lot. “It’s been a month.”
“A-.. month?”
I walked wordlessly to the cage.
“Where did you get him?”
“Truck Yard. Next to death. I saved his life. But-” I opened the cage door and took a confident step towards the dragon. He slammed himself against the bars with such force, the entire cage shifted, screeching against the cement. “I don’t know if I really did any good. He’s too frightened to think.” The SolarWing resumed his typical stance, shielding himself behind one wing. I approached, pulling his wing back just as I had done countless times, and he let me, dropping to the floor when I released him, his wing still propped awkwardly against the cage bars.
Cersei entered the cage, standing beside me. “Look.” She whispered, as the SolarWing shifted, watching us with wild eyes. “We’ve owned him before.”
I had realized this the first day while assessing wounds. The dragon had been owned by a wide assortment of people, many brands I recognized. The marks spanned the underside of the dragon’s left wing, an endless list which crawled from the shoulder up, and looped around down a second bone. I had never seen anything like it.
“Many people have owned him.”
I watched as Cersei approached the SolarWing.
“He won’t attack, right?”
I shook my head.
Cersei advanced, reaching her hand out towards the red dragon.
He cowered, his breaths quick and suffocating.
He was always this way, and I leaned against the cage bars, a certain despair festering in my mind. Would he always be like this? It was truly disheartening to see. But when Cersei began speaking in dragon, her soft tone echoing throughout the lot, all my previous thoughts vanished.
The SolarWing’s ears twitched, and he froze for a moment.
I released a startled breath, my gaze shifting back to Cersei when she stopped, and the tremors returned, racking the dragon’s spine.
“Well, there you go.” I whispered, grinning slightly. Even such a small, insignificant reaction meant everything. Cersei caught my astonished look, and she gave a kind smile, meeting my gaze. “Shoot,” I returned her grin, gesturing towards the SolarWing, “don’t stop.”
I think the fact that Cersei was a woman, her voice young and soft, was why he was suddenly so attentive to her words. I doubted the dragon had ever been spoken to in such a carefully gentle manner. He listened to Cersei for probably two minutes while I stood by, both shocked and jealous. Cersei’s words were laced with both comfort and promises, praising my name and assuring the dragon’s safety under my care.
It was like magic.
He held on to her every word, his eyes no longer wild with fear and pain, but calm and relieved.
He stayed in the tranquill state, even when Cersei's attention shifted from the SolarWing. She began asking me questions about the dragon, and I answered honestly, certain she had realized where I was gathering my medical supplies from. But Cersei made no comment on the matter, her questions fully devoted to the well-being of the SolarWing.
It was then that I realized the true significance of our friendship. My appreciation for Cersei grew immensely, my respect for the young woman completely, and forever, won.
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erobret · 1 year
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@austerulous​ asked : As dawn leaked over the horizon, their hunt met its end.  Pale light bled through the valleys, creeping towards Whiterun by degrees.  A narrow stretch of woodland, awash with mountain flowers, their blossoms petal-soft underfoot.  They were hidden within the trees, noses flooded with the treacly scent of pine. Bones rearranged themselves, crackling as they shrank.  Fur receded, blunt teeth replacing fangs.  It was an aching process, for the beast to retreat, to go from monster to man.  Farkas stood in the glade, shameless in his nakedness, steam rising from his shoulders.  Blood matted his raven hair, dripping thickly from his freshly-forged fingertips, coursing down the broad, human chest that heaved as he gulped air, steadying himself, drunk on adrenaline, hungover from the hunt. And there was Eivor, as naked and blood-drenched as he.  All the hours of the night, they had roamed, ruled by the moon, by the beast.  Farkas recalled nuzzling at her, licking the viscera that stained her maw, speaking to her in a chorus of whines and growls. “I see you,” he said by way of greeting – and he did.  She with her scars, her wild beauty.  She with her calculated savagery, her feral grace.  Greedy, his gaze skirted her edges, appreciating the strength that wrote itself into her body.  Unabashed and hunt-drunk, he dared to come closer, to catch her chin with his fingers, to raise her noble head, inviting her to devour him with those hoarfrost eyes.
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            THE    HUNT    WAS    NEW    TO    HER    .    never    had    she    allowed    herself    to    roam    in    the    wilderness    .    .    .    not    since    that    first    .    that    first    had    been    terrifying    .    she’d    been    but    a    child    and    not    known    what    had    become    of    her    when    she    awoke    deep    within    the    mountains    ,    stained    in    mud    and    gore    .    it    was    a    scar    that    could    not    be    seen    .    .    .    not    knowing    if    the    crimson    had    been    man    or    beast    .    only    those    closest    to    her    had    known    ;    styrbjorn    ,    sigurd    ,    valka    and    later    randvi    .    they    knew    and    they    had    helped    her    cage    the    beast    .    when    the    full    moon    would    draw    near    she’d    retreat    to    a    deep    cave    where    iron    bars    had    kept    her    within    .    she’d    been    bound    and    blind-folded    .    incense    had    thrown    off    her    sense    of    smell    and    the    waterfall    that    hid    the    cave    drowned    out    all    noise    .    for    seventeen    years    she    had    lived    like    that    when    the    beast    came    .
            this    time    she    had    allowed    the    beast    its    freedom    .    he    had    been    with    her    and    even    though    her    wolf    was    far    more    feral    and    wild    than    his    ,    he    had    grounded    her    and    kept    her    from    man    villages    .    it    had    been    a    whole    new    experience    ,    even    if    her    body    had    not    felt    like    her    own    ----    as    if    another    had    stepped    foot    within    her    being    and    took    over    .    she’d    seen    splatter    of    blood    ,    tasted    the    heat    of    meat    ,    heard    the    stag’s    final    cry    ,    smelt    its    fear    .    all    new    and    he    had    been    with    her    .
            far    more    feral    and    wild    .    she’d    often    growled    and    snapped    at    him    when    he’d    drawn    near    to    press    muzzle    against    her    but    she    had    not    bitten    him    .    though    lips    had    been    curled    ,    tongue    licking    at    gums    and    teeth    while    snarl    escaped    .    .    .    she    had    welcomed    the    affection    .    she    had    welcomed    him    .
            now    here    she    was    ,    collapsed    as    skeleton    reformed    from    beast    to    woman    .    the    jaw    and    legs    were    the    worst    of    the    pain    that    came    during    this    time    .    spine    would    ache    as    she    rose    from    hands    to    bare    feet    .    chest    rose    and    fell    heavily    with    breath    that    game    in    large    huffs    of    vapor    from    dripping    mouth    .    like    him    ,    steam    rose    off    bare    body    .    one    would    think    her    fire-kissed    with    the    crimson    that    drenched    wheat    blonde    hair    ,    now    a    wet    red    mane    (    she    would    have    to    take    the    braids    out    and    fix    it    all    once    more    )    .    dripping    fingers    were    curled    as    if    her    claws    were    still    there    .    though    beast    had    retreated    she    was    still    as    feral    as    she    was    .    it    always    took    a    while    for    the    fog    to    vanish    from    her    mind    .
            his    voice    was    sharp    in    his    ear    and    head    turned    quickly    to    look    over    shoulder    ,    caked    in    blood    and    muck    .    azure    hues    ,    still    crazed    from    the    hunt    ,    watched    him    move    closer    .    a    low    growl    left    her    lips    ---    more    human-like    than    before    but    still    quite    animalistic    ---    when    hand    came    to    her    .    lashes    fluttered    as    she    blinked    rapidly    ,    her    mind    clearing    slightly    to    know    what    she    wanted    .    with    a    snarl    ,    gore    covered    hands    flew    to    grab    him    ,    fingers    curling    around    the    back    of    his    neck    to    draw    him    down    so    mouths    could    connect    .    she    tasted    the    blood    upon    his    lips    as    he    could    hers    ,    but    past    that    she    tasted    him    .    a    hand    in    his    hair    ,    the    other    making    deep    scratches    down    his    back    ,    she    held    him    close    .    refusing    to    let    him    go    .
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bluest-planet · 2 months
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Tigre
Theres a tiger cub on the ground crawling and crying
Immediately i pick her up in my own big paws, careful not to hurt her with my overgrown claws
Shes so skinny, so pale, sleepless and tiny. Why would someone leave you put here, in the cold?
I'm scared she wont make it, that the little tigress is too far gone. Its really cruel, everyone else sees a beast, a monster. People see stripes, orange, and all that signals is danger.
But that's mean. Its really fucking mean. She just wants to live, and you're all put here, starving her of everything just because of what she might be.
I don't care if she bites, if she claws, if she screams. Maybe its a little annoying at first, a little frustrating, but only because I know that if anyone else were to walk near, they'd put her to death for good. Just for daring to be a nuisance.
People have no compassion for useless, annoying things. At least, most people cant appreciate anything pass its usefulness because of this god awful rat race.
On one hand, i get why. I technically shouldn't blame them.
But i still dont forgive them, i dont care anymore. You're all too blinded by survival to care about anything inconvenient, but whats the point in surviving in the face of such indifference?
Its mean. Its horrific, what neglect and apathy can do. Far more dangerous than any fangs or claws.
So its just me and the cub, sitting isolated in a single room- no, a cage with vitriolic steel bars. They burn me like they do fairies. All brand new stripes.
Pacing makes the mind feel as if it is being productive, but all I'm doing is a futile task. I'm just slowing down the atrophie.
So i give up, not on the cub, but myself. Im tired of the visitors, of the constant having to get up and pace 'one more time' just to feel real. Eventually, you'll die from blood loss if you never let the wound heal. Never eat. Never sleep. Never rest. You can't regain the energy needed.
The bars melt away into a steel door; some privacy, for once. but i can still see light flickering under the crack. Its a light ive admired before. Laying my ear against the door just to hear the others living just behind it so i can soothe myself to finally sleep.
A few visitors know that story, only before the door was a warm oak not a cold steel.
My stomach is growling, exactly like the cubs. Shes gone quiet, in my way to big, blood covered claws. Im sorry. I'm sorry i couldn't keep you warm, and that no one even noticed your tiny thin body's disappearence, they accepted a changeling without a second glance to see if what they had was the real one.
The only one who noticed was your own changeling; me. Only, neither of us got the life we expected getting swapped.
Id say i love you, even if it was a lie, just to comfort you but it wouldn't mean anything coming from our own mouth. Just another truth of neglect.
Sometimes it feels like im headless. Maybe then it would be better, so i could slip out of the iron collar around my neck. But thats a just a daydream to savour, its umami.
Its tough to be a tiger.
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rcksmith · 3 years
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I want to do bad things with you — Five Hargreeves
Request: “6 from fluff and 4 and 8 from smut list for five hargreeves?”
Fluff Prompts:
6. “I’m going to marry you one day.”
Smut Prompts;
4. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.”
8. “I don’t care how good it feels you’d better not cum until I tell you to.”
A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!
I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.
I hope it got close to what you wanted. ❤️ This is a heavy smut, I was in a bad mood, sorry jsnsjsnsjsn.
Guys, I really understand who doesn't feel comfortable reading or writing Five's smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.
Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, bad words and bad smuut.
— — — — —
Five Hargreeves were many adjectives. Genius, superhero, handsome, dangerous, sinic, arrogant, born leader, among other things. His energy was intense and mysterious, and looking him for too long was like facing the stormy sea: dangerous and risky, but extremely fascinating.
He carried many adjectives on his back, is truth, and domineering was one of them. His life was a constant line of stress, problems and exasperation, Five felt irritated most of the time, so relieving all that stress in sex was... it was fucking good.
Normally, his emotions were always on a tight leash, under iron control. Five was composed, controlled, taking everything rationally. Even in sex, when he vented all his anger, he was conscious. Until you show up.
You were a little, sweet, lyrical little thing and... fuck, you had an angel face that made Five clench his jaw as soon as he laid eyes on you. And then controlling yourself became a much more difficult task. You had a cunning, catlike look, but an face so pure that it hooked Five into the his soul.
He couldn't get involved with you, he repeated that every fucking day. Five could barely look in your direction without wanting to hold your angel face and kiss you with the fury of hell. Five wanted to fold you in front of him, slap your ass until you blush and hear you whimpering his name. He wanted to do all the dark things in his mind to break your doll energy.
Five Hargreeves was many things, but the irony of all was how they swayed when he fell in love with you. It was inevitable. Over the months, while trying to control his thoughts, he found himself admiring your intelligence and sense of humor. He started to notice how you loved sweet tea and had headaches when you had coffee, which is why he started to leave a migraine medicine in the kitchen if you needed to.
With the days, Five now hid his smile when you laughed at something stupid and admired how the world seemed sweeter when you were happy.
And that's when he kissed you. And his whole view changed. When he held your face between his hands and tasted your lips, Five felt like he was touching Egyptian crystal, and then the urge to protect you was born. He didn't want anything or anyone to hurt you, anyway. Five touched you so delicately and made sure that nothing bothered you.
So that's when you two slept together. Fuck, it was so fucking hard for him. Extraordinarily difficult because Five wanted to make you scream and fuck you so hard. It was difficult as hell because he wanted to hit your ass and thigh so hard that he could see the marks tomorrow. And... son of a bitch, even though you moaned and squirmed, you looked like a fucking angel. And the desire to desecrate something so pure became even bigger.
And that was why he avoided touching you during those hours. He kept his hands on the mattress, on the headboard, on the walls or on the pillows, avoided touching you as much as possible. Because Five knew... it was already too hard not to fuck you rough, hard and intense, if he touched you... it would be the end. He didn't even want to kiss you too much, or suck on your skin, because one thing would lead to another and... God, you fucked his mind!
It was after a few months that he realized he loved you. And your relationship will become even more serious.
"I love you so much.” You whispered on his lips one day, with the cold and rain falling outside, and you curled in him up like a pet.
Five nodded, him lips on you forehead, brushing them there as appreciated what that phrase did to him. You two had already said that a few months ago, but you loved to keep repeating it and Five appreciated how right the universe felt when you said that.
“I'm going to marry you one day.” He sighed through your hair, lowering lips to yours before receiving your ecstatic and passionate screams.
But the more love grew in you two, the more hunger, lust and sin grew within Five too. Was like a wild beast, hitting the bars of the cage, almost breaking what kept under control. And controlle herself started to be physically painful. So he tried to put out that blazing fire.
Seeing you naked has become excruciating torture. Five fidgeted uneasily whenever you changed in front of him, took off the towel after a shower. But the worst was when you two had sex. Fucking you, feeling you pulsing, squirming, totally submissive to his whims, made Five have to acquire phenomenal self-control. Although Five exhibited a cold, arrogant and confident personality, everything inside him became a boiling volcano when you appeared.
“Baby…” That was when Five heard you purring, you had just come out of the shower, a short white towel covering your body.
When Five looked at you, and saw you walking towards him, he pulse reached alarming levels. Normally, Five always managed to keep his impulses under control, even though it was an overwhelming endeavor. But not today.
Oh, he was far from being in control. Your doe eyes looked at him docilely and Five felt again the overwhelming appetite to take you so badly.
God, he needed to break you…
You didn't make it easy for Five either. Oblivious to the internal battle within him, you sat on his lap, supporting your legs on either side of his hips, with the towel rising to the top of your thighs and your bare skin sitting on his already pulsating member.
Five snarled softly, hands tightly squeezing the bed sheet, your body pulsing beneath his. He felt hot as if were in the Sahara desert.
“You are so tense.” Your voice was velvety, soft, and you brought your lips to his neck. And that was too much.
“Y/N..” Was a warning.
“Something wrong?” You pulled your face back enough to look at him.
Five shook his head, hands still clutching the sheets. You followed that gesture with your eyes, and started connecting the pieces second by second.
It was no longer today that your felt him controlling himself. Moments he didn't want to touch you at all while he fucked you, like you were a hot iron. Days when he forced a little more force into the way he kissed you and then completely backed down.
“I've been noticing a few things lately...” You commented, the left index finger playing with his uniform “I noticed that you have ... controlled yourself, as if you were holding something.”
And then you looked into his eyes, and what you saw in the green sockets was a lust so fervent that you felt yourself losing breath.
“Y/N...” the voice was still hoarse, a ring signaling his warning as well “I ... I won't be able to talk about this with you.”
“Why not?” You didn't know exactly what the problem was, how deep it went, but you knew something was going on. “I did something? Or are you more stressed? ”
“You did not do anything.” He assured you, and as he saw in your eyes that you would not let the matter pass, because you were determined as hell, Five sighed deeply. “It with me. It has nothing to do with you, I just... I like to do more... rough things. "
You were watching him closely, the direction of the conversation was pleasing to you... It wasn't today that you knew your own tastes, and something brutalized and stronger was exactly what you liked. But Five was always so controlled, so reserved, that you were still looking for an opening to bring it up.
Five must have noticed that your eyes took on a different glow, and he looked at you as if he suspected.
“Why that look?” His little corner smile made you smile too.
“ I didn't know you liked things like that.” Five raised an eyebrow at you, the little smile still on his face. “Is that why you have been controlling yourself?”
Five had to take a deep breath, hands going to your waist under the towel, in a soft, controlled touch. But his hands were stiff, you felt it.
“I do not want to hurt you.” He was succinct “I have more aggressive, brutal desires, and I don't want to take it out on you.”
Oh, you were really enjoying the conversation.
You let out a low chuckle, playing with your index finger on the lapel of his uniform.
“Like ... hit me and stuff?” Then you felt his grip tighten on your waist, his jaw tighten.
Five looked at you with a clear warning that you were walking in rough waters. That it was better for you to stop here. He could barely cope with his own thoughts about it, let alone hear you say those things with that fucking angelic voice of yours.
"What if I wanted to?” Now your eyes were bright with amusement and anticipation.
“You can't tell me these things” His grip got stronger, his eyes more fierce, the energy more irritable “Even more naked in my lap.”
Five might be covered in clothes, but he could feel your hot pussy under him, the soft skin of your thighs around his waist, your breasts a touch away... Damn, it was too much for him!
“I mean it.” You ran your fingers through his hair, resting your hands behind the back of his neck. “I like something hard too, if you are willing to try this on me, I would like us to do it. You are always so focused... I would love to see you more out of control. ”
Five kept his eyes on you, as if he were looking for some hesitation in you. But he found none. Just shared desire.
God help him.
“Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.” He wanted to warn you, he wanted you to know it was a path of no return. Five could destroy you and him wanted you to know that.
“Yes.” You agreed “I want it so much.”
Suddenly, something in the air seemed to change. Everything became rarer, more caustic and crackling. Five's intensity had reached extremely high levels and he looked at you as if you were the prey on a night hunt. Five pulled harder on your towel, freeing your naked body. He gasped, his eyes fixed on you.
“Say red when you want me to stop.”
You were going to say something, but he didn't give you a chance. His hungry lips stuck to yours. It was a controlling kiss, drowning out you surprised moan. Five stood with you on his lap and threw you on your back on the mattress. You gasped, your naked body exposed on his bed, given over to all the profane fantasies he had in mind. Seeing you there, submissive, destroyed all the control he had.
Oh he was going to destroy you.
Five remained standing, pulled your legs over the edge of the bed and opened them aggressively. You let out a heavy breath, the core pulsing. God, seeing that made him rock hard.
Five leaned over your body, pressing his lips in you before moving to your breasts, sucking on aching nipple, squeezing the other in a heavy touch. His hands left you for a second before him straightened up and removed he blazer and sweater from the academy, his nimble hands pulled the tie knot fiercely, tearing the piece of silk from his neck.
“Be quiet for me, dear.” Five put your hands together, tying your fists with the tie and tying the tie to the headboard.
You bit your lip, your body fidgeting for him, the core throbbing. Five had barely touched you and you were already pulsing for him.
“You are so needy.”
Without warning, he was leaning over you, him lips on yours, his hands roaming your body in a rough touch, his mouth pinching your lips. And everything started to get heavy after that point. Five closed his mouth on your neck, leaving a trail of purple hickeys as he brought two fingers to your mouth.
You took them in, sucking without waiting for an order. But his fingers on your mouth seemed to have an even more exciting effect for you. You legs closed, wanting to seek any friction, but Five slapped your left thigh roughly, brutally separating them with his free hand.
“Did I tell you to close your legs?!” You whimpered, and he gave you another slap “Answer!”
“N-no...” You did your best to speak with his fingers in your mouth.
“No what?!” Another slap. Now you could feel the flesh throbbing. You pulled on your fists, trying to control yourself not to close your thighs again.
“N-didn't”
Now his free hand went to your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“It's ‘No, Daddy’!”
“No, Daddy!”
“Good Girl.”
Five withdrew his hand from your mouth, bringing it down and melting it into your pussy. You moaned louder, forcing the tie, shifting your hips. He didn't give you time to breathe before he buried his fingers in you, hitting your walls.
You screeched muffled by his lips on your, as his hand pushed against you frantically, slamming inside you at a brutal pace.
“F-fi...”
Another slap. Stronger, more aggressive.
“What did fucking you say?!”
“Daddy! I mean Daddy! I’m so sorry.”
He accelerated his hand even more, and you started frantically pulling on the tie, trying to get rid of or gain more of that ardor. You were starting to feel close to orgasms when Five pulled away, slapping your bare breast as he rose again. You whimpered in protest, your hips still making some movements in search of some ghost friction.
“Look at you, so desperate and I haven't even fucked you yet.” Five began to unbutton his white shirt, stripping off his clothes and leaving the belt beside you.
You excitement went to extremely high levels when you saw his cock jump out. Pulsating, molasses with pre-cum and dashed with thick veins. Your core throbbed, dripping your liquid while you whimpered.
Five smirked when he noticed where your attention was, and he leaned you, but now bringing the belt with him and placing it around your neck.
God, he was going to fuck you so hard.
Five gave a tug, testing the accuracy, and when you groaned needy, Five appeased his own excitement by sinking his bruised lips into yours.
He stood up again, pulling your legs closer to the edge as he brushed your pussy with the throbbing head of the stick, watching you squirm. It was torture for him too, but the sight of you struggling for contact was a fucking reward.
“Please d-Daddy!” You whimpered, rummaging in despair, wanting more of anything he give you.
“Please, what? ‘Please, daddy, fuck me hard’ or ‘please, daddy, use me’ ?”
You were begging, with tears in the corners of your eyes as he played with you, by sinking the head of the stick inside you. It was driving you crazy. Five held the base of him penis while he sank just another inch into you, then pulled and rubbed your clitoris.
“Fuck me h-hard, Daddy!”
Suddenly, Five entered you brutally to the bottom, leaving you speechless in a loud and silent groan. He pulled you by the belt, not giving you time to get used to the size, he established strong and aggressive blows.
“Do you want hard?! I will give you hard!”
Then Five untied the tie from the headboard, turned you brutally on you stomach and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hand back and unloaded it on your ass, and you screamed, staggering forward. Five pulled you by the hips, dissatisfied with your distance.
“Be good girl for me, dear." It was an order.
You obeyed, crying out loudly when Five pushed the stick inside you aggressively, pulling on your neck with the belt. He held you by the belt and the waist while he fucked you. Hard, fast, without any abandonment.
His hand hit the flesh of your ass from second to second, and you can't help but moan for it. He gave no respite, the sound of his bodies colliding flooded the room, perhaps the entire mansion.
Five has never felt so hardcore in life, so hungry, so lust. He wanted to break you, hurt you, squeeze your flesh so hard that you would be left with marks for months. He groaned, trying to concentrate on mistreating the walls of your pussy, pounding with brutality, harder and cruel.
“D-d-daddy!”
Tears streamed into your eyes as you dug your nails into the pillow hard, unable to contain the moans and the tremor in your thighs. Your belly vibrated, hummed with hyperstimulation, that was paradise and sin at the same time and you felt that you could fall apart at any moment.
Five pulled the belt tight, bringing you up and sticking your back to his chest. He put his free arm around your waist, bringing the thrusts in slow, hard rhythms, making you feel every inch of him.
You hands went to him arm around your waist, the new position reaching the most sensitive places, making your pussy throb. You bit your lip to try to control your moans, because you were afraid they would be too loud.
“Without trapping those sounds for me!” This time the slap came down on your left breast, followed by a deeper thrust, and you begged for excuses while looking for air “Let everyone hear who's making you feel so good! Who does this slutt belong.”
That pushed you further into the abyss. Five sucked on the skin on your neck, pouring out a strong hickey while you could only scream and whimper for him, unable to do anything else. . He entered you deeply, taking whatever inch you had and forcing you to take it deeper.
Five did not allow you to move an inch away, your hips clinging to his, held by his arm, him fucking you hard without you can moving your hips. He could feel you blinking on his dick, making your honey drip down your thighs. His hunger had given no respite, and when he looked at you, and he saw your angel face in an expression of pleasure, pain and dirty with tears, it further fueled Five's hunger.
"That, little slutt!"
You were close, pulsing on his dick, sweat running down your body, your broken moans. Five loved how you were a mess for him, your whole body scarred because of him. He never fell your owner as much as he does now. You begged for something you didn't know what it was, but Five did. And he would give it to you. But he felt your pussy squeeze him, swallowing him in a broken way.
“You can't come until I let you!”
“Da-daddy!” You moaned louder “Please! Please! I need... I need it! ”
“I don’t care how good it feels, you’d better not cum until I tell you to!”
Five came out of you, turning you brutally on the bed once again, removing the belt from your neck. He climbed on top of you, now sticking your body to his, placing his mouth on yours in a gasping kiss. The skin-to-skin sensation was maddening, you were both hot, sweating, and Five squeezed your thigh tightly before slapping it down again. Your wrists were still tied, and you could only press them against his broad chest.
Your thighs were shaking and Five was delighted by this, he traced hickeys all over your breasts, and sank into you again when he sucked on your left sore beak.
Five held you while he fucked you in that position. Strong, cruel and hard. His hands were glued to your flesh, marking your skin with purple from his digits, holding his own moans. And you watched him with your mouth open by the screams and the sight. He was beautiful like that. Wild, his skin all sweaty, his teeth closed on his lip to keep from groaning, his black hair stuck to his forehead.
It was too much torture, too much stimulation, and you were already letting the tears flow while you were begging for something.
“Come to me, my good girl.”
Five didn't have to say it twice. You came intensely, your pussy sucking all of his cock and receiving the hot, thick liquid of his as a reward. You threw your head back in abandonment, feeling him it sink into you deeper, making sure you got all his sperm.
“Such a good girl for me.” Five whispered as he gave you a reward kiss you.
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flocholate-chip · 3 years
Text
Guilty pleasure
Floch Forster x reader
(I’m not sorry)
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You couldn’t help but to fine yourself going to visit floch in prison after he got arrested for leaking information about Eren’s arrest.
You can’t help but scold him for being so ridiculous, and he’s adamant to tell you all about how he could give less of a damn about your opinion and how he doesn’t want to hear it.
Yet even still, he can’t seem to understand why you come back to visit every single day. You don’t pay any mind to the other newly forming Yeagarist members’s only him. Maybe you don’t think he’s taken notice of this.... but he definitely has.
You can’t help it though... he’s an idiot... but he’s your idiot. You’re madly in love with him, and you couldn’t ever afford to tell him that. At least in your mind, that’s the way it is and that’s the way it will always be. But still, you can care for him in the best way you know how to do.
Each day, Floch doesn’t know how to tell you that he appreciates it all. He doesn’t understand... but he appreciates it. It’s shown in the way he get’s visibly flushed and awkward when you come around, and he becomes increasingly stand offish. He hopes maybe if he’s rude enough you won’t notice how red his face gets at the sound of your soft voice greeting him.
“Evening, Flochy....” with such a soft tender purr. Like you’re beckoning him closer and her refuses to answer your siren like call.
“What the fuck do you want this time, y/n... and- i told you to stop calling me that???”
You always only laugh... why do you just laugh??? Why don’t you leave? He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t want you to leave... why is he trying to make you leave.
Floch doesn’t like the way you make him feel conflicted..... when you slide warm home cooked meals for him under the door, it makes him feel conflicted. It makes him feel warm... and wanted... he doesn’t know how he feels about it. Even still, he always scarfs them down. You were right when you first told him it was much better than the awful prison food. It leaves a warmth in him that lingers for the rest of the night. Even in the cold rot of the stone cage he’s been placed in. It’s only been a couple of days, but the only good part of his day is seeing you. He hates to admit that.
On the second day.... you had brought him a blanket... your own personal blanket, since you didn’t seem to have another to give. You had seemed very worried about him being cold, and insisted that he keep it so that he didn’t get sick.
“It’s damp in this place.... i don’t want you catching something... try to stay warm okay?” You’d hummed softly to him, face resting against the bars. He watched you in confused silence before taking it.
If there was one thing he could have said he liked most about the blanket, it was the fact that it carried your smell on it. The lingering warm natural scent you carried... the same detergent that lingered on your clothes. A touch of that perfume you always wore. He questioned if you did that on purpose. If you had, he had to give you credit for it, as it had worked. A coy and sly attempt at flirting... but a well done one. He hated to admit that it made his heart beat a little faster. He slept better with his face buried in the fabric. The third night in the cell was the first night he began to question what it might be like to have you beside him instead of the blanket... surely you’d be much warmer.
Floch had known you for years, ever since you along with him and the rest of the levi squad survived the first battle with the beast titan. You’d always remained the same throughout those years. So kind... and caring to everyone. You always smiled so brightly, as if untainted by the world around you. It seemed to always make everyone else feel a little warmer. Floch had always wondered if that was why you did it. He had seen you time and time again catering to the Levi squad. Feeding them, holding them, loving them as if they were your own children. They were like your little family... and so it was weird when he noticed how you attempted to pull him into it. He knew that he was one of the last surviving members of the scouts way back then... but even as more and more scouts were inducted into the ranks, you kept him close.
Even when he sat in prison, away from everyone else. You left the comfort of your precious Levi squad to come care for him. He didn’t understand.
You were the only regret he had when he helped Eren break out of prison.... when he assisted in the assassination of Zackly... and everything that followed. In his mind everything he was doing was for the good of Elidia. So why should he feel guilty? He did though... there was a tinge of guilt in his chest eating at him.
He wondered if you were worried about him. Maybe he hoped you were... he was worried you hated him. He could care less about everyone else. But he didn’t think he could stand loosing you.
When the yeagarists entered the restaurant where they knew the scouts would be... his heart was racing. Of course, he remained the stone cold leader he knew he had to be.... he couldn’t be seen as soft. His thoughts were the opposite of his outer image, though.
‘She’s on the Levi squad... that mean’s chances are she’ll be here...’
‘What is she going to say when she see’s me?’
‘I’m going to have to arrest her if she’s here.... surely she’ll hate me after that.... but it was always going to end up this way... wasn’t it? She probably already hates me... it’s fine... i can handle it. I don’t give a damn....’
All up until he made eye contact with you. Those bright... pure... beautiful, round, E/C eyes.... He felt his knees buckle slightly. He hoped it wasn’t noticeable.
He put on quite a show, and hopefully it compensated for the beating of his heart. He waved that gun around as if it weren’t a dangerous weapon, and he made sure to act especially smug as his men moved to obtain hanji, going so far as to put a finger to his mouth to silence her. He didn’t give a damn what she thought of him.
But his eye’s glanced back over to you briefly, expecting your expression to be brimmed in hatred. He hoped you would tell him you regret ever caring about him. Maybe then he could move on.
But your expression was anything but hateful.....
You looked.... terrified,if not a touch sad. His breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a moment in silence, before he found himself moving towards you. His boots clicked across the wooden floor, and he glared at you slightly as he kept both arms laced behind his back.
You glanced up at him, tugging slightly in an attempt to pull away from the man tying your arms behind your back. You didn’t like the way he had you bent over. You were uncomfortable. It showed.
The room seemed to become dead silent as Floch stood before you, trying to look as absolutely emotionless as possible. He pulled his lips up slightly into an almost forced sneer, and he could hear the blood rushing through his head as he spoke.
“what’s the matter, Y/N....? Don’t want to be on the other side of the iron door?” He hummed mockingly.
“I can’t promise I’ll have any time to come visit you. It’s pathetic how easily you’re willing to put aside your duties as an Eldian to-“
He didn’t get to finish, stumbling back in slight shock when you managed to yank free from the man holding you. And within seconds you were lunging at him.
He went to reach for his gun.... he couldn’t get it in time, finger wrapped around the handle he closed his eyes tight and prepared for a blow. He could definitely take you if he needed to.... you were a medic... not spectacular at combat.
The blow never came.
Instead, a soft slam into his chest. And for a moment, he had to blink a couple of times before connecting that the arms that he had expected to be punching at him, were now thrown around his waist.
Your face was buried in his chest, as your arms slipped up to place both hands on his back between his shoulder blades, and you took in a deep breath as if you were on the verge of crying.
He sputtered for a moment, and this time he couldn’t hide the obvious reddening of his face.
“What are you- what are you doing???!” He spat, taking a step back as if trying to pull away from you before your warmth tainted him again. This was not something he had prepared for.
“I was so worried about you....” you whispered quietly, and the second he took a step back you took one with him.
“I wasn’t sure if you were hurt- YOU CAN’T JUST DO STUFF LIKE THAT I WAS SO SCARED FOR YOU YOU KNOW THAT??” You scolded, looking up at him angrily before spitting out a harshly worded.
“Asshole!!!”
He was quiet for a second, as if trying to take in the situation. You were worried about him. Why the hell were you worried about him??? Why did you care??? No one... ever had before so why you, right now when it was most likely to jeopardize his mission. He wanted to push you off... he wanted to be able to hate you like he did the rest of them. But he couldn’t.
Instead, his hand moved instinctively to wrap around your waist, and he pulled you ever so slightly closer, glancing down at you in confusion for a moment before hissing.
“I had to do what i had to do, you being worried doesn’t change that..... we’ll talk about it later.” He growled softly. He glanced up at the rest of the group, having to take a moment to get his thoughts back on track, before hissing.
“We’re going ahead- I’ll alert Eren. Detain them.” He said simply. And you glanced over at your friends in a short panic, he noticed that.
“And her???” One of the men asked, pointing to you.
And, mind clogged with lust... love.... some desperate search for affection and validation... Floch made one of the worst mistakes he could have possibly made.
“She’s harmless. She can stay with me. I’ll keep her in check.”
His arm slipped down around your waist, and you felt his hand on your back, guiding you along gently.
he didn’t know how you felt at all. How could he? Yes... you cared about floch. You loved him. But as you glanced back at hanji over your shoulder, giving her a slightly affirming nod, you knew you would have to give him up.
Your gentleness had gained his trust... and now you’d have to use it against him. You were Floch Forster’s guilty pleasure... soon to be his downfall.
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englass · 3 years
Note
Number 2 from dark prompts?
Ahh, thank you for sending this in hun!!
I'll admit, this gave me problems; a lot of problems. And I'm not to sure how I feel about it, but it just felt right to end it where I did. Hopefully it's okay at the least... Also, this is definitely more yandere than I was intending it to be, but I wasn’t sure how else to tackle it. Still kinda soft though, despite the circumstances...
2. “They were getting in the way of your happiness! And I can’t allow that.”
- - -
There’s a heavy silence that blankets the scene, smothers it like a pillow pressed oppressively to a person’s face. Cuts off all breath, all hope of reasonable thought as diluted instincts rear up with the screeching whinny of a panicked beast. The urge to flee such an aggressive thought that the mind lags and stutters and holds onto it for far longer than is wise; overthinking a dangerous pastime when the crawl of time provokes the draw of danger.
Ensnared in that cloying grip you choke, lost and adrift, being tugged in different directions of thought that leave you vibrating in the worst way possible. Unable to see anything other than the visual that will forever stain your once innocent eyes, you don’t see the way the only other living person in the room turns to you, don’t register the way they gasp your name in a tone of dreaded elation. So buried beneath your own whirling thoughts, incomprehensive and elusive, you hardly feel the way they grab you, turn and shield you with a wall of familiar blue taking up your vision; but only in the way that it glazes the dark scene painted onto your retinas with a tinted frost.
You flinch violently at the feeling of something touching your cheek, a terrified whimper spilling free as the world snaps back into focus. Finally registering the man in front of you, concerned azure eyes meeting your own, you physically shrink under their openness. Attempt to retreat with a step back as the tears fall, caught by a mockery of a caring touch as his thumb swipes the moisture from your cheeks, barred in by his free hand, wrapped around your waist as it holds you protectively against his chest.
“Shh, it’s okay, my dear,” he murmurs soothingly, “it’s alright, you’re alright. I’ve got you, sweet thing. Shh, there’s no need to be so scared. You’re safe with me. They asked for it.”
There is a harshness within his last words that makes you tense, that makes you shakily reach forward to grab at the hem of his waistcoat. You’re not too sure what you’re doing with such an act, especially after all of this, but regardless John appears to soften at the silent gesture. His hold on you loosening just a bit as he lays a gentle kiss to your forehead, uttering quiet reassurances against your skin that you feel with every brush of his lips.
Gratefully, John is able to ease you away from the treacherous labyrinth of your thoughts. Calm you enough so that your breath doesn’t catch as aggressively within your lungs as it did a moment ago, only hitches on every odd breath as you breathe him in; something woody with the faintest twang of iron, musky and so distinctly John. But with the calm comes the cohesion, the caging clarity, and with that a deceptively simple question; the only one you have the strength and courage to ask--
“Why?”
Internally you cringe at how fragile you sound, as if you were one wrong word away from falling apart. The brief thought that John would be there to catch you when you did was terribly bittersweet.
“Because they were holding you back,” he answers easily, an impassioned fire in his words. “Because that filth was not worthy of you, of your care or even your ‘friendship’. They didn’t appreciate you and what you’ve done for them. And, perhaps most egregiously, they were getting in the way of your happiness! In the way of us; and I can’t allow that. I couldn't allow that.”
His hold on you tightens, constricts your breath into a small and unintentional stutter. Your words are hesitant as you say, “but, they were-- you didn’t have to… you didn’t have to do that to them... “
“That was a mercy, dearling.” Running his hand through your hair he carefully tucks you into the crook of his neck, the ocean of his eyes dark with the hunger of an unsatisfied sin. “It may have taken some… gentle persuasion, but they agreed to go through the Atonement all the same; regardless of how sudden and unorthodox it was. It’s hardly my fault if they couldn’t handle the weight of it…”
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ladykissingfish · 3 years
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At The Zoo with the Akatsuki
*This was an anonymous request in my inbox. Whoever you are, thanks! This was fun to write 😊
Hidan
This guy goes ape for the monkey exhibits. Lemurs, baboons, marmosets ... but his favorite of all are the gorillas. He’s blown away by how intelligent the animals are, and how closely they act like humans. Hidan likes to stand by the glass in these exhibits and make a variety of gestures to see which ones they’ll copy. His favorites are sticking up his middle finger and scratching his behind, which he’ll laugh himself silly over when the gorillas mimic his motions. Besides the primates, he’s also fond of the giraffes enclosure. Once the group went to a zoo where they allowed people to physically interact with these majestic beauties, and Hidan wouldn’t let them leave this one exhibit for nearly two hours, because he couldn’t get enough of petting their long necks. He’s the type to ignore the Do Not Feed The Animal signs for most attractions, and in fact tries to start fights by throwing peanuts and other treats through the bars or over the glass.
Sasori
He mainly thinks that zoos are boring, and doesn’t really get why the others seem so enthused to go. The one thing he does enjoy are reptile houses; he’ll move slowly through the dark rooms and gaze at the different snakes, lizards, colorful frogs, and whatever else is being showcased. Is more of a people watcher than an animal watcher, and finds the reactions of those looking at different species more entertaining than the animals themselves. Will spend the most time walking around with Deidara; he finds the blonde’s childlike enthusiasm to be refreshing, and it’s one of the few rare times that the two can be together without arguing about art.
Deidara
Deidara has an odd, odd grudge against hippos. He’s told the others ad nauseam about a memory he has of when he was a little boy, and his father taking him to a local zoo. According to Deidara, his father wasn’t watching him, Deidara slipped down an embankment and landed in a hippopotamus hole, and the beasts charged at him, teeth bared. He was rescued by the zookeeper, so he says, and he remembers getting “a lot of free shit” because of the incident. But the others doubt that any of this happened, and try (unsuccessfully) to convince him that this was just a vivid dream. But Deidara doesn’t buy it: he’ll stand at the top of a hippo exhibit and hurl insults down below, until the others can drag him away. Aside from this one weird tic, Deidara actually really enjoys the zoo, and spending time with the others in such a calm, relaxing environment. He especially likes the bird houses, and could spend hours whistling at or cooing to the beautifully colored, winged creatures.
Kakuzu
This guy tries to pretend that going to the zoo is a waste of time, too expensive, etc etc ... but in reality he loves this particular outing like no other. He’s never told anybody this, but when he was a very young boy, he lived with his parents on a farm. Exhibits of “common” animals such as sheep, goats, pigs and bulls or bisons puts him in mind of the happier, simpler times of his life. He may be the oldest but he moves faster than anyone in the group; the others think this is because he’s in a hurry to get the trip over with, but really it’s because he’s enthused (and impatient) to see each and every exhibit that there is. Still, Kakuzu is ALWAYS going to be Kakuzu ... he’ll snap at the others if they ask him for money for souvenirs, and he’ll have to be physically dragged from the snack shops once he sees (and starts yelling about) how high the food prices are. “$13.99 for a cheeseburger?! It better be the entire f*ck*ng cow on that plate!”
Kisame
Going to the zoo is always a duality of emotion for Kisame. On the one hand he’s part animal himself, so it bothers him to see other animals locked up and on display like prisoners. But on the other hand, he has the alpha-like mentality that being part human elevates him beyond the level of the others, therefore it’s ok for him to go and look at the “lesser beings”. Although he has fish DNA, by contrast, his favorite things to look at are the big cats. Lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars ... Kisame admires these beauties to no end. “Jokes” so much about climbing the barricades and riding one of these kitties that the others start to take him seriously and someone keeps one hand on his arm while near these exhibits. Walking along in the sun is nice for awhile but after several hours of this he begins to get tired and dehydrated; there’s been several times when he’s been caught taking “a quick dip” in open-water exhibits such as the penguin tank.
Itachi
Lions? Tigers? No, it’s Bears for this boy. These furry mammals provide him with hours of watching delight. He’s especially fond of polar bears, and could spend forever watching them walk around on glaciers and go for swims underwater. One time he and Kisame were sent on a mission to a foreign country. They were supposed to return within 2 weeks, but they didn’t make it back for almost a month. Kisame covered and said it was because they ran into extensive traffic difficulties ... but the reality was the place they were sent to had a zoo with an interactive koala exhibit, and Itachi went every single day to have the little cubs crawl all over him ... even going so far as to put the owners of the zoo under a gengetsu in order to maximize his time limit.
Zetsu
Depends on what kind of mood he’s in, as to whether he’ll join the others at the zoo. If he goes, he is always mistaken for being a wildlife plant mascot, because of his unique foliage. His hobby is trying to sneak into as many exhibits as he can, posing as a plant, before the others (or the animals themselves) notice that he’s there. He doesn’t quite have a favorite animal but finds himself attracted to the gracefulness of flamingoes. He can’t stay with the others too long, however, as all that natural sunlight gives him a “brightness overload”, as he calls it. An ideal zoo day for him would be one where it’s partly cloudy and/or lightly drizzling; but the others prefer to go in the full sunlight.
Konan
Absolutely loves going to the zoo with the others. She’s the one who will read the zoo map and try and put them on a schedule to ensure that they see everything there is to see. Also the only one who will think to bring a bag filled with water and small snacks for the others (which Kakuzu appreciates more than anyone because he hates them wasting precious money on the in-zoo snack stands). Is fond of all the animals but her favorites are elephants. She often tells the others how highly intelligent and sensitive these creatures are, how they look after and care for their mates and their families. Tobi tells her that she reminds him of an elephant, which the others will smack him for because what woman wants to be called an elephant? But Konan will smile and hug him, because she understands what he means. One time as a group they surprised her, and found an elephant sanctuary where one was allowed to play with elephants. Konan spent a full day there laughing and getting sat on/cuddled by playful baby elephants. At the end of the day everyone received a muddy hug and kiss from her, which they tried to act grossed out by but were really happy about. Also should be noted that when at regular zoos, the heeled sandals that Konan wears often quickly tire her out, so more often than not she’ll be offered a ride on Kisame’s shoulders, or (if Sasori is walking around in it) on top of Hiruko.
Pein
Doesn’t particularly like the zoo, because he isn’t the fondest of animals, caged or not. Will only go with the others if Konan insists on it, as she feels Nagato needs to experience some pleasant imagery once in a while (through the Pein body). He’s the type to pick up every single pamphlet or brochure outside of each exhibit, study the information carefully, then quiz the others later on different fact about what they saw. Since he’s not a fan of animals he really doesn’t have a favorite, but he most enjoys watching wolves. He can always identify which one is the alpha male, and he observes the way it leads its pack around for future inspiration for his own group.
Tobi
When they go to the zoo as a group, somebody has to be assigned to this guy, to keep an eye on him. He gets so enthusiastic with the different animals and sights that he often throws caution (and common sense) to the wind, which allows for dangerous situations to happen. Once, he managed to break the gate on the tiger enclosure because he said it looked like they weren’t warm enough where they were, and would probably like to be outside with the people. Chaos and a wide panic ensued, and the rest of the group had had to get him out of there before they were all arrested. Tobi claims he likes all animals the same, that “they’re all Tobi’s friends!”, but his favorite-favorite are penguins. He loves the way they waddle, and will walk around the whole day after they visit this attraction trying to imitate that walk, until Deidara yells at him to “walk like a grown man, Tobi, hm!” He also really likes the snacks that they offer at the zoo and will likely run through his weekly budget as he buys tons of popcorn, candies, and ice cream to munch on as he walks around. Always cries when it’s time to go; usually takes 2-3 other members to drag him out by the arms.
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theblissburns · 3 years
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//Ok so... I finally mustered enough energy and motivation to finish writing part two to this fic.... whoops! But better late than never! Also I still haven’t decided if it’s reader or OC... and I haven’t decided on a name yet...
//Thanks to all who gave support for the first part! I always appreciate feedback! :) I want to write more of this... I think I have somewhat of a plot... We’ll see!!
Karl Heisenberg x Reader/OC Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Word Count: 2,616
Warnings: Slight non-consensual touching, face bashing, slight blood, cigar/cigarette burning, crotch kicking, imprisonment. 
Reader/OC is a woman.
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   Fading in and out of consciousness, all she can make out is a few different people arguing. Then she realized her head was in someone's lap as they moved and adjusted in their seat. She manages to peel her eyes open with a slight airy groan, looking up at the person. "She's mine." The man she was looking up at said, "I found and caught her first. She's going with me" He leaned forward with every word to emphasize his point. She didn't have enough brainpower to realize it, but it was the annoying man from the cart.    She slowly blinked her half-lidded eyes then turned her head to see who he was arguing with. A very large woman sat across the room in an equally large chair. She took a drag of a cigarette out of a long holder. She sighed at the smoke with a slight twitch in her eye. "Your intentions with any woman are sketchy at best. Ruining a young woman as such is a waste! She'd be more of use to me and my daughters than you."    "Anyone would fair better with me than to be bled dry in your little castle of blood" He retorted.    "Enough of this bickering." A different woman's voice spoke out.    She didn't have much energy to crane her neck to look to see the source, but she saw the large lady scoffs at the man and cross her arms. She groaned lightly, feeling her consciousness begin to fade again. She felt a hand cradle her cheek. Her attention slowly drifted to the man as his thumb caressed her cheek. He was looking down at her through his round black glasses. Her vision fades out, but the last thing she hears, echo's in her head. "The woman belongs to Heisenberg."    With a deep breath in, her eyes flashed open, her senses quickly came back to her. She quickly sat up and looked around, dread filling every last inch of her at the realization that she sat in a large cage. What was going on? Why was she here? She could only remember bits here and there. They slowly came back to her. Her head pounded, but her heart was pounding faster. Bars surrounded her, but beyond that was a dark room with a concrete floor and busted and dented metal walls. She crawled up to the edge of the cage and peered out, trying to get a better view of the darkroom. It was filled with crates and boxes, as well as scrap metal and large tools. It seemed to be a storage room, filled with miscellaneous things... like her cage.    The only light source in the room was little red industrial lights at either end of the room and the light that has shown through under the door. As her eyes adjusted, she made out the door to her cage. Her breathing hitched as she scrambled to it, panic running through her veins. Her hands went to the bars and tried to open it, hoping somehow it was unlocked. It wasn't. Whimpering at the realization, she shook the bars more aggressively. Tears quickly weld up in her eyes as her whimpers turned to small sobs. She was scared and she wanted to run. Flashes of those beasts chasing her popped into her head and she began shaking. The rattling from the cage doors got louder as she shook harder.    With light filling the room, she stopped and looked over to the door that opened. A silhouette of a man stood in the doorway. She began shaking harder and whimpered he began to walk towards the cage. "You're awake. That's good." He cooed with a sickening smile as he walked up. Her eyes widened as she realized it was the man from before. The one who was getting handsy with her... and the same one who had all that metal float around him. She backed away from the bars as he came closer. She backed up until her back was against the other side of the cage, trying to stay as far away from him as possible. She realized he wasn't wearing his round sunglasses. Maybe because it was dark in here. It didn't matter right now though. But it made her more nervous, having to look into his eyes.    "L-let me out...!" She managed to sputter out.    He chuckled at her boldness and fished a cigar out of the canister attached to his thigh before he brought it to his mouth "That's not gonna happen" He said as he lit a match and lifted it to light his cigar. He puffed a few times, getting his Cuban rolled cigar to light.      "Why?!" She demanded, leaning    "Why?" He repeated her question as he puffed out a plume of smoke. He took a step to the door of the cage and pulled a key off a key ring on his hip. Opening the door and entering her little space. He was lucky the cage was large enough for him to stand his full height. Where would a person even get a cage this big? And what would someone need it for? He took a step towards her. She instinctively scrambled away and into the far corner away from him. She was filled with fear and was completely defenseless. He laughed lightly at her actions "I thought you could be fun company." Only needing to take one large step, he now stood in front of her again as he answered her question. She looked up at him from the floor, shaking in her skin.    "Now..." He put his cigar in his mouth so both of his hands were free. He leaned down and she flinched, holding her arms up in defense, shielding herself from him. He grabbed both of her arms with his gloved hands and effortlessly pulling her to her feet. "Let's see what we're working with." She stood in front of him. It was only now that she realized her outer layer of clothes were removed. It was early autumn, so earlier she was wearing a light jacket. Now she was left in her undershirt tank top and her underwear. "I'm lucky that you woke up right when I finally had some time to deal with you." He smiled nastily at her. Too many things were rushing through her head so she had only now noticed her lack of clothes. She turned her head away from him, whimpering a little when he lifted his hand towards her. He combed his fingers through her hair, letting his hand trailing down to her cheek. He grabbed it and forced her to look at him. Holding her by the jaw, he kept her head in place as he looked over her features.    "We don't get too many outsiders here, So I must say that getting my hands on a beauty like you is. a. treat." He said, emphasizing the last few words of his sentence.    She let out a whimper at his forceful actions. She couldn't believe this. First, there were monster men that chased her, then there she was captured by this crazy man to be held, prisoner. This was crazy. Just a little while ago, she was standing up to this man and telling him to get lost when he tried getting too comfy with her. Now she could barely speak up. Her mind was abuzz with horrible possibilities. It made her blood run hot. Without his dark glasses, she was able to look into his eyes. She would have said they were beautiful if they didn't seem so cruel and uncaring, and if she wasn't being roughly examined by the man. He moved on and grabbed her arms again and stretched them out, her hands balled into fists and shaking. She wasn't exactly sure he was checking for, but he moved from part to part of her body.    "No broken bones." He smirked lightly as he took his cigar out of his mouth to tap the ash off the end and let out a billow of smoke. The dry smell made her cough. "No tattoos or any other identifying marks either." It was like he was talking to himself as he made mental notes about her body. He took a slight step back to look her up and down as he took another drag of his cigar. She hated that his eyes were all over her. It was like bugs were crawling under her skin. It made her want to vomit.    "I think I can work with this" He smirked at her as he blew smoke her way.    "F-fuck o-o-off" She stuttered. Her whole body was screaming how scared she was, but she still managed to muster the courage to tell him off. Even if it was feeble sounding. Her weak little victory was cut short by his hand slamming against the cage right next to her head. The sound rung in her ears so loud that it made her head spin. She whimpered and cowered back. He leaned down, trapping her in the corner again. She brought her hands up to cup her mouth to muffle her sobs. "You're attitude..." He started as he leaned his face closer to hers. He grabbed her face with his big hands, squeezing her cheeks slightly. He turned her face back up to look at him "will be the first thing to go."    Terrible thoughts rush through her mind. All the things he could do to her. Her stomach felt tight and a large lump grew in her throat. In a split-second decision, she quickly kicked her foot forward at him. Lucky for her, he was just close enough for her foot to make contact with his crotch. He instantly wretched over in pain, dropping his cigar to the ground. As the man took a knee with a painful groan, she ducked under his arm, still leaning against the bars of the cage, and ran to the open door of the cage. The only light source was from the only door in the room that was left wide open. Of course, she was gonna take this opportunity and make a break for it.    Sprinting for the door, nearly tripping on miscellaneous crates and scrap, she thought for a fleeting second that she might make it out of the room. What about after that? She didn't know where she was. But that didn't matter. The metal door slammed shut. She paused for just a second in surprise before lunging for the doorknob, desperately trying to open it again. It wouldn't budge.    Fingers ran through her hair before grabbing a huge clump of it, pulling her back. She let out a scream as she was pulled back towards the cage by the man. She struggled against him, screaming, hitting, and kicking. He cursed at her and snaked his arm around her waist to lift her off the ground. "LET ME GO, YOU BASTARD!" She screamed as she flailed about in his arms    "Shut the fuck up!" He demanded as he struggled to keep her in tow as he fished for his keys off of his belt loop, wanting to lock her up right away. "You're lucky I don't have the time to deal out punishments right now! Damnit! Stay still!" Although he had immense strength, he didn't want to drop her and give her the chance to run again. She was much smaller and probably faster than him. He didn't have time to chase her around his factory. Just as he found the right key again, she managed to lean over and chomp down on his hand. She bit down as hard as she could and didn't let go.    He swore again and dropped the keys onto the floor before ripping his hand away from her "You bitch!" He yelled and set her down briefly before grabbing the back of her head and forcefully shoving her face into the bars of the cage. He was beginning to lose his composure. Her head felt numb for a split second before she heard ringing in her ears and pain spread through her face. She didn't even register the cold of the bars. She coughed and whined, as she lifted her arms to grab his hand that gripped her skull. He pulled her away from the bars before slamming her face back into it one more time. The sheer force that was used was just shy of knocking her out. Her grip on him loosened and she felt her knees go weak. He let her go and her body slid down against the bars until her knees met the ground.      Her vision faded in and out as she was on the edge of passing out. He bent down in front of her for a moment, examining her face over. Her nose was bleeding and her lip was bruised. There were sure to bruises all over her face too. He sighed and said something, but the ringing in her ears prevented her from making out what he said. The man lifted his hand and wiped some of the blood that dribbled out under her nose away. It smeared on her face. She began fading out again, but she felt her body being lifted up again, before immediately being dropped onto the hard ground of the cage again. She let out an airy groan and whine before coughing, opening her eyes again. Why couldn't she just pass out already?    She turned her head and saw him pick something up off the ground. He turned to her again, looking down at her holding the still-lit cigar he had dropped before. He leaned down next to her again, pressing the lit end against her neck, letting it sizzle. She let out a scream as he held it against her flesh. The searing hot pain burned the flesh on her neck before the heat slowly spread. She tried her best to flail her arms at him, but he easily swatted them away. "This is for kicking me." He twisted it into her skin. She let out a louder scream and tried to sit up. With her head feeling heavy and light at the same time, she wouldn't have been able to sit up on her own anyway, but he pushed her back down, keeping his hand on her chest, holding her down. "This is for trying to get away." He twisted the cigar in the opposite direction. Continuing her scream, she squirmed and swatted weakly at him. With one last twist and push of the cigar into her neck, he could smell burnt flesh. "And that one was for making me waste a perfectly good cigar."    She cried out, grabbing out for anything. She latched onto his shirt and gripped tightly, trying to get through the pain. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Holding the cigar against her for just a few seconds longer, he smirked and held her hand that had grabbed his shirt. He removed the cigar from her neck and tossed it out of the cage before looking back down on her as she sobbed on the ground. "Don't worry Darlin'. Once you start learning to behave, you won't have to have to be punished like this." He stated, removing her hand from his shirt, letting it fall to the ground again. With that he stood back up and exited the cage, locking it. He winked at her with a smirk as he left the room. With the slam of the door closing behind him, darkness filled the room again.    She was left in the dark, sobbing. After a little while, she finally passed out again.
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//Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!
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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years
Text
Branded - Chapter 31
Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: The memories come to an end
(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)
AO3
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It didn’t matter that they dragged him, restrained with glyphed chains and shackles, through a glowing portal that had looked very similar to the one he’d first gone through.
It didn’t matter that their headquarters seemed to be an old manor filled with strange artifacts and old furniture.
It didn’t matter that they told him, after throwing him into a basement cell lined with glyphs, that they were a group called the Masters of the Mystic Arts.
They were HYDRA and they were going to use him like they always used him. Bucky expected Colonel Vasily Karpov to walk through the door any moment, but his only visitor was a soft-spoken bald woman. She was pale, unnaturally so, and had a very precise way of speaking. She apparently knew who he was but would only refer to him as “James.”
He hated it. Hated her sweet words given through iron bars. It was no different than how Fairbanks had treated him. Tricked Bucky with promises of hot meals, warm baths, and protection from the guards if he would just cooperate with Fairbanks’ vision.
But that’s not what the woman asked of him. Bucky didn’t know what she wanted. She would visit him, talk to him, ask him questions about his life before HYDRA. His captors had never done that before, had never encouraged him to talk about his past as a human before they managed to burn away his memories and trick him into believing he was a full-fledged demon.
It was confusing, even more so when he was moved out of the cell and into a proper room. He still had to wear the bespelled shackles that left him weak and harmless, but they didn’t beat him or taunt him or force him to feed. In fact, the woman, who called herself the Ancient One like it was an actual title, gave him a tonic that would make the hunger go away.
Bucky didn’t believe a damn word she said. He remembered the last time he’d been offered something like this from Lukin. It had been a salve that had artificially induced his next heat, and he’d been mocked cruelly before Lukin would allow his men to sate Bucky’s cursed hunger.
And now that same hunger grew so strong that eventually Bucky drank the liquid, because nothing could be worse than the agony twisting through his body. To his eternal shock, it helped. Made the searing desire in his gut vanish into a dull ache.
That was when Bucky had finally begun to believe her. This wasn’t HYDRA, and he wasn’t going to be used as a weapon again. When he’d told the Ancient One of his conclusions, she had smiled and said, “I know that must have been very difficult for you, James. I appreciate your trust.”
Bucky wouldn’t go that far, he was a long way from trusting his new captors, but when she returned the stuffed cat to him with the strange advice that he should “take care of precious things,” he was well on his way to tolerating her.
For the next few months, Bucky spent his time relearning how to be a person. He rediscovered his love of knowledge, and the Sanctum provided much of that. The books, especially. He was fascinated by the large, bound tomes that smelled like dust and forgotten time. Focusing on consuming as many books as possible was a way for him to adjust to living as a… well, as a human again.
The Ancient One had encouraged his time in the library once she trusted him with having more access to the Sanctum. The other sorcerers had wanted to keep Bucky contained in the glyph-warded cell, but she told them, “If you cage a man like an animal, expect him to act as a beast.”
Bucky was growing quite fond of her.
For the first time in a long time, Bucky wasn’t hypervigilant and waiting for the next attack, whether from HYDRA soldiers or other demons. He was healing, very slowly recovering from the decades of traumatic memories he had to sort through. It was even more confusing with the “time dilation” he’d experienced in the demon realm. Forty-eight years had passed for him when only four years had passed on Earth. It was 1995, he was in New York City, and his only acquaintances were a sect of secretive sorcerers who kept him locked up in an ancient manor.
Things could have been worse, all things considered.
Something did happen one day to dampen his spirits. It was a warm early summer day, and they were enjoying the sunshine within the Sanctum rooftop garden. The Ancient One was training him to extend his guise around his clawed feet to make them appear as if he was wearing boots. She insisted it was possible, that Bucky had already shown an affinity for magic with his ability to take away, and later they learned, share memories.
But making his demonic aspects disappear was one thing, trying to create illusionary clothing was another, and he was growing frustrated with his efforts, or lack thereof.
“Fairbanks told me my transformation was complete,” Bucky grumbled, staring at his clawed feet as if they’d done him personal wrong. “There weren’t supposed to be any more changes, but now I have to lug these things around.”
He flexed his talons to demonstrate his meaning, grimacing at the animalistic shape of them. At least with his other changes, he’d managed to guise himself enough to look human. Now, with this…
“As if I didn’t already look like a monster,” he muttered.
“Evil men lie. You know this more intimately than most.” The Ancient One seemed almost distracted, staring over the rooftop and toward the city skyline. Then she turned toward him, her smile muted in sadness. “You’re no monster, James.”
Bucky looked away, unable to look at such sincerity for too long. She really did believe what she said.
“This isn’t working.” He sat back with a huff. “I can’t do it.”
Instead of her mild chastisement for giving up so easily, the Ancient One remained silent. Bucky looked up to find her staring off to the side again, her gaze fixed on something that wasn’t there.
“What’s wrong?”
She blinked and turned back to him, giving him one of those small smiles.
“Nothing, James. Why do you ask?”
“You seem distracted.” She was never distracted. Thoughtful and meditative, sure, but never unfocused like she’d been all day.
“Mmm,” she hummed. “I thought I heard a voice.”
Bucky’s stomach dropped, mired with guilt. He’d forgotten all about his own mysterious voice. He experienced the same shade of guilt and grief whenever he remembered what had happened to Steve. Died saving the world, not long after Bucky had been imprisoned. And here Bucky was, alive and whole, and he hadn’t bothered to think about the entity, real or imagined, that had kept him from going insane in the demon realm. It had helped him remember who he was and kept at bay the devastating loneliness.
He could barely remember what the voice sounded like.
He opened his mouth to ask her to explain what she meant, but the Ancient One clapped her hands together and said, “Let us try again. You’re letting your frustration get the better of you. Focus on what you desire and shape it into the world.”
Bucky sighed and unwillingly turned back to his lessons, the weight of loneliness still lingering at the back of his mind.
***
“This isn’t working.”
You watched Bucky struggle, unable to help or communicate with him. Not like you’d done before. Trapped on the demon world, Bucky had somehow been able to hear you. Even talk to you.
You’d almost forgotten who you were in that place. It had been so easy to just be with Bucky, to sink into his mind and be so close you weren’t sure who was who. And then you’d been jostled awake when he’d had leapt through the portal. It had been agony, split in two, and you’d been torn from Bucky and forced back into your own non-corporeal state.
And that’s where you’d remained. Seeing yourself as a child lose your memories. Forced to watch Bucky feed and suffer and then be captured, but when you’d realized who had him, you’d been relieved for the first time since being trapped in Bucky’s memories.
Now that you knew the Ancient One, had witnessed firsthand how kind and gentle she was with Bucky, you were shamed by your previous jealousy. She grew on you, and after a time, you felt like you knew her just as well as Bucky did.
Perhaps that explained what happened next.
“I can’t do it.”
Bucky’s frustration was aimed at the Ancient One, but she paid him no attention. Her eyes were focused directly on the spot where you stood.
The world grew quiet and still. The wizards around you, moving to and from their tasks, were now frozen in midstride. The water bubbling up from a nearby fountain hung in the air like a glass sculpture. Bucky sat half-hunched on the stone bench, glaring at his clawed feet.
Cold fear washed through your non-spine as the Ancient One smiled.
“Ah, there you are.”
You glanced around just to be extra sure she was addressing you, but the world was still frozen. Even the air was a dead weight against your skin.
“You…” Your voice trembled, unused in so long. “You can see me?”
“Of course,” she said, addressing you by name just to make the moment more surreal. “I sensed James had a passenger. How long have you been attached to him?”
Horror, hope, terror, all of it vied for control. Your next words were a messy jumble.
“I… I don’t know. I was, we were just. He was showing me his memories, but they were the wrong ones, and I got stuck—Please, you have to help me!”
The Ancient One raised a hand, palm toward you in a soothing manner.
“It’s all right. There’s no need to be afraid. Take your time, for we have plenty of it.”
You closed your mouth and took a deep breath, allowing the tension to leech from your muscles.
“That’s better,” she said, her voice smooth and her smile kind. “We shall start with something simple. Have we met before?”
“I… no. I don’t think so.” That was something simple? “I mean, I thought you were…”
Your voice trailed off into silence. Were you supposed to tell her she was dead? Or… would be dead. How were you even able to speak to her? Wasn’t this just a memory? You couldn’t affect a memory, right?
“Ah.” She gave you a knowing look. “I see.”
Her gaze drifted down to where Bucky sat, her expression fond. She didn’t seem to be very upset with the fact she would be dead sometime in the future.
“I take it you are important to James? You must be, for him to willingly share his memories with you.”
“I… yes,” you said, following her gaze to Bucky. Even now in a strange, frozen moment, you ached to touch him again. Hell, you ached just to speak with him, for him to see you and know you again. Being a stranger to Bucky was unbearable. “He’s important to me, too.”
“I sense that is true. Perhaps more than you realize.”
After a moment of quietness, she met your eye again. Something had shifted within her, and her tone grew serious.
“To answer the question you wish to ask, this is James’ memory, but it is also your present. You are untethered from reality and trapped in a time-loop.”
“A… a what?”
“It’s very fortunate I found you at this moment, in this place,” she continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “I suspect you would have been trapped, until such a time you would have caught up to the place you had become untethered, and time would have repeated itself.”
Her eyes darkened and the smile was gone. You wanted to retreat but your feet, as they had been from the start, were unable to move.
“Journeying through time is extremely dangerous.” There was thunder in her words, quiet but frightening, and you wanted to recoil. “Who is your teacher? Surely they would not have been so negligent with your education.”
“I—“ You swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A teacher? For what?”
She stared at you for a hard minute, expression never changing, and in that moment you could sense the vast, unknowable power that lingered within this seemingly frail-looking woman.
“Listen to me well, young one,” she said. “When you return to your present, seek out the Sorcerer Supreme. I will not gaze forward to see who it is, as one should not know too much of their own fate. But when you return, go to the leader of the Order, and tell them I said…”
Her gaze dropped downward, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Even though you didn’t technically had lungs, you could breathe easier now that her dark gaze was gone.
“Tell them it’s their responsibility to shape the future of our kind. No matter what tests they’ve conducted or conclusions they’ve come to, you must be taught our ways. Neglecting to do so will result in consequences like these. Or worse.”
The Ancient One clapped her hands together again, the oversized sleeves pooling at her elbow to expose her thin arms.
“Now, it’s time I send you back, yes? Oh, one last thing.”
“Oh. Uh, y-yeah?”
“When the moment comes and the obvious choice feels wrong…” She looked you directly in the eye, a piercing gaze that went right through. “…trust yourself to find a different answer. Do not doubt yourself, even while others will. Your life, and James’, both depend on it. Do you understand?”
“Uh—no,” you stuttered. “No, I don’t understand—Wait!”
Your protest went unheeded as the Ancient One moved toward you while also remaining firmly in place. A shimmering second copy of her walked across the stone, raised a palm, and shoved you hard in the chest.
Gasping and clutching your shirt, you bolted upright with a cry. You were back in your bedroom, sprawled out on your bed and panting as if you’d run a marathon.
And Bucky was staring down at you with complete and utter horror.
Next Chapter
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yandere-daydreams · 4 years
Note
if request slots are open: consider. i know you don’t like shoto but listen listen. royalty!au in which the darling is also a royal, of an opposing kingdom. shoto just thinks they’re so soft and lovely and why won’t they accept his marriage proposal?
This is pure self-indulgence, really. I just want to use fancy language and imagery and say nothing bluntly ever because straight-forwardness was only invented in the 1900s, and this is a reality I accept.
TW: Dehumanization, Abuse of Power, and Metaphors.
~
Your kingdom was known for never refusing a guest.
It was a state more than a nation, really, a wonderful city that relied on trade and unity to sustain itself. As such, you were more of a diplomat than a ruler, a host dressed in jewels and made to entertain true leaders from the allies held in such high-esteem by your advisors. You’d mastered the art of meaningless conversation, your patience taught to you by decades of being talked-over, and although many royals had seen fit to test your policy, there was always a free room ready when they were prepared to humble themselves and accept it. You adored that part of your occupation, how kind you got to be, to your people, traveling peasants, kings and queens and anyone who crossed your path. You liked to be generous.
But, Shoto was not a Prince known for bringing out the best in people. And you were certainly no exception to his contagious aversion.
Usually, you would make an effort to greet your visitors in the courtyard, but his visits were too frequent and too impulsive for you to do so much as stand before his entourage was in your throne room, the young Prince standing before you. He didn’t seem to mind your lack of enthusiasm, the boy smiling so brightly as he stepped in front of the elevated platform. You didn’t doubt he would run to your seat, if given the chance, but your personal guards made their aggression known as soon as his foot touched the first step of the short flight. “My Songbird,” He greeted, instead, not seeming to notice the way you cringed at the nickname. “You haven’t been responding to my letters, but my yearning still persists. Have you grown tired of singing to me so quickly?”
“I do not see why it’s necessary to respond to inquiries I have already answered.” Your voice was cold, at best, frigid at worst. You didn’t have it in your heart to be cruel to anyone, much less a friend you had once held so dear. Even with how appealing he made cruelty seem, these days. “I am not your songbird, but if I was, I think you would dread having to hear the same two notes play on a never-ending loop. God knows my throat has grown sore from delivering them.” You paused, glancing towards the advisor on your left, positioned there on the chance your behavior slipped into something less than agreeable. She waited a moment, pondering, but a nod was all you needed to proceed. “You must be tired, Todoroki, please allow my valet to show you to your chambers. A long journey deserves an even longer rest.”
You saw Shoto falter, a hand unconsciously coming to rest on the sword at his belt. You guards mirrored the gesture, although you didn’t take it as a threat. “I am thankful for any note you grace me with,” He assured, taking another step forward. “But, there are three that would make me euphoric. Isn’t that what you should want? Why would you sing at all, if not to make someone happy?”
Straightening you back, you leaned forward, uncrossing your legs to better fill your throne. “I sing for my own joy, no one else’s. Be glad I am forgiving enough to let you listen from a distance.” He opened his mouth, but you carried on, drawing circles in the velvet under your arms. “My answer is no, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. When I find a shelter I can roost in, one I choose to roost in, then and only then will make my nest. I have no desire to make my home a cage, regardless of how golden the bars.”
At that, he smiled, and you dug your nails into the soft fabric. “It would be a beautiful cage, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re intolerable,” You mumbled, deflating. It was hard to be angry, now, the disappointment cutting through you more deeply than the knife of loathing ever could. Marriage was not a necessity, to you. Unlike his own clan, your’s had never placed an emphasis on blood. You’d been an orphan most of your life, and you had no issue with continuing the tradition your childless parents had started. Children who’d never known love always seemed more appreciative when receiving it, although you’d admit Shoto’s existence contested that theory. “I cannot–”
“And a beautiful cage deserves a stunning creature to inhabit it,” Shoto continued, speaking over you without hesitation. Another step was taken, then another, leaving Shoto towering before you, too close for comfort. You were tempted to stand, if only to put the two of you at an equal height, but Shoto would’ve simply found another way to place himself above you. He was good at that, especially if it meant making you feel small. “Think of it as an alliance. Your country would have my father’s army behind it, and I would have you. Is that not a worthwhile sacrifice?” You weren’t given time to answer his question, Shoto dropping to one knee unceremoniously, suddenly. It caught you off guard, enough so for you to lean forward, moving to help him up. But, Shoto only took your extended hand, holding your palm to his cheek as he spoke. “Visits aren’t enough, this isn’t enough. I wish to have you as my partner, and if I don’t, I can not guarantee my next action will be one of peace.”
You jerked back, not asking for permission before pushing yourself onto your feet. It took more of your self-control than it should’ve to keep from telling him to leave, to get out of your castle and never come back. Your anger must’ve been visible, because your advisor reached out as soon as your fists had a chance to ball, a steady palm coming to rest on your shoulder. It was a small consolation, but it snapped you out of your rage nonetheless, even if your calmness was still volatile when regained.
“Rest, Little Prince. Exhaustion has clouded your better judgment.” His eyes widened, lips contorting into a frown, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. Instead, you made the first move, waving for your guards to follow as you descended the short staircase. “If I hear one more word about marriage, I fear I may be the one to abandon our treaties. This songbird wishes to sing in another court, for now.”
 Shoto was quick to stay on your heels, his excuses following just as closely. “But–”
“One more word,” You warned, his troop of guards and servants parting to let you through. “I don’t wish to make an enemy out of you. Please, enjoy my city and take advantage of my hospitality, but do not approach me with the same attitude. I have made up my mind, and my decision is final.”
And with that, you left. That was the advantage of his petname, you supposed.
Flying away was much easier when you were given wings.
But, Shoto was a beast of the ground, unfortunately.
He stayed as you fled, watching you run from him like prey from a predator. Part of him acknowledged your feelings, or the lack thereof, rather. He knew you didn’t love him, not truly, and he knew you didn’t care for him as he cared for you. He knew you didn’t want to be with him.
And yet, you were kind and welcoming and genuine. You were loving towards him, even if you didn’t love him.
Shoto took a moment to scan over the room. His guards surrounded him, as faithful as ever, each buzzing for an order. His father had never allowed him to travel lightly, even when Shoto was more than capable of protecting himself. Your nation didn’t have the same strength. With no standing army, no way to defend yourself, you relied on neutrality and alliances for protection. It was a symbolic security, but one that would stand unless a very powerful, very feared kingdom attacked.
Unless Shoto’s kingdom attacked.
He decided he would bring the idea to his siblings, as he waited for the room’s doors close behind you. It would be a controversial suggestion, but there was territory to be gained, resources that could help more deserving people. With their forces, it would be over in a matter of days, hours, even. He doubted your ‘allies’ would care, by the end of the week.
Besides, Shoto had a pet who needed to be put back on their leash. 
You seemed to think you’d outgrown your cage.
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infinitesimal-grey · 4 years
Text
Dragon Virgil
A/N: So this was in my drafts and was just collecting dust so why not post it. I have a bunch of character theories and stuff if you want to ask questions like why is Roman locked up or Virg a heckin dragon please do.
[[MORE]]
    "You really are no help at all, are you?" Roman gasped exasperatedly at the black dragon occupying an entire wall.
    He raised a scaled eyebrow, but continued silently watching with minor interest in the prince's piss-poor attempts at escape.
    Roman gave a final kick. It lacked anything resembling form. But have no fear! It- no- no it didn't- nope he's still imprisoned. "Well this is a minor setback." He tentatively rattled the door, hoping for it to give. No dice. The dragon snorted as if laughing at him.
    "I wouldn't suppose you've got a way out." Roman saltily commented to the dragon, not expecting a reply or even understanding.
"If I did, do you think I would here watching you flounder about?" The Dragon scoffed and stretched to stand, scales moving like liquid darkness as if they pulled in light.
    "You can talk?" Was the former prince's first thought. Well admittedly it was "Holy fuck that's a really big dragon I should probably shut the fuck up and slowly go into the far corner." But that isn't quite as proper as Roman would have preferred. He was about to go against his actual first thought and speak to the dragon when the sound of boots on stone sounded down the hall. That silenced both of the occupants from saying more. Roman turned towards the sound of the footsteps and held the bars to stop his hands from shaking. Virgil slunk back against the wall and eyed the direction of the footsteps with wary exhaustion. They both listened intently to the two guards' echoing conversation.
    "L-g--'s c-r---tion ------d --- -osts as----ed"
    "De- --uld k--- -- -f --t"
    "Th- cr-wn is qu--k to d--pen-- ju-t--- -ut h-- ---ht ha-d man is-" 
    "The --ickest dr-w in all the land. Ay, my troop was quick to educate me on that fact on the first day." Footsteps stopped. They must be in a room about two right turns and possibly 20 to 30 feet away...
    "Did they do the bird thing? That really pisses the lord off." There was a pause and the clicking of a lock- "Come on I won't tell."
    "Ay-" There was some quiet laughter. "Didn't even let the bird a foot I reckon before he were a puff of feathers. Poor bird."
    "Do good to remember that when you're caught by the enemy." A clink of flasks; more footsteps. Soon two burly guards appeared in front of their cell and we're looking the two up and down.
"What's your problem? I am Prince Roman, our countries have been allied since before I was born!" Roman asked incredulously.
    "And I'm Prince Logan." The guard with a mop of brown scowled as he got knocked aside the head for that comment.
    "Ya must've really pissed off Janus to get thrown in a cell with this murderous beast." The older, blonde guard ignored Roman entirely.
    The prince looked back worriedly to the dragon. The dragon halfheartedly bared his teeth and growled. Roman quickly looked back and looked pleadingly to the guards. "Please" he mouthed.
    Virgil took a breath to keep from burning everyone in the room, knowing it'd just get his spark chords removed.
    The guards both this time ignored Roman and looked to Virgil. "Here kitty kitty kitty." The blonde pulled small red beads from their pocket and crushed them in his palm.
    "Firebeads!" Virgil realized too late. The guard blew a torrent of fire at Virgil, sending excruciating pain through the base of his rear leg. Virgil screamed in the way only dragons and ungodly creatures of the night can, letting out fire of his own freely. The prince danced back out of the reach of the flames. Heat sizzled Roman's skin and singed his tasseled lapels. The guards erupted in laughter, hitting their batons against the bars to intimidate. They're painful loudness made Virgil pin his ears back and hiss as his claws scratched him backwards against the far wall of the cage.
    "Hey! Stop it!" Roman demanded, indignant as ever now that he could feel anger bubbling up over his fear. The blonde slammed his blade against the bars as he strode to Roman.
    "What are you some sort of dragon sympathizer on top of having a head in the clouds, Prince Roman Broadpin?" The old blond spat the name, making it clear he didn't believe Roman's claims.
    "W-well he's certainly been a better gentlemen than you two dolts in all the time I've seen of you." Roman defended indignantly, not knowing why. Virgil had quieted down now that the attention wasn't on him and raised his scaled brow at the supposed prince's words. The brunette guard growled at Roman and started to unsheathe his sword. The blonde held him back without looking and sneered at Roman.
    "Smartass. Keep your sharp tongue for now. I hope you find out soon what Janus' intentions are for it. Hell maybe if you're lucky silencing you is all he'll do." As blonde started unlocking the cage Roman found himself backing away from the guards and, coincidentally, towards Virgil.
    Virgil readied himself, eyes intent on the door. He spared a thought towards the man locked up with him. If he really was a prince that may be some big hostage power. He dug his claws into the cobblestone. The dragon had a scheming gold glint in his eye and a layout of the dungeon in his head...
...
Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a like, comment, ask or reblog- they are very appreciated :D
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