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orionscathedral · 3 months

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ok, alastor thought/theory dump:

i think HIS magic is the green. i see why it could by the color of his deal but the chain he had on husk was green and based off valentino and angel it’s safe to assume the chain color is the overlords. i think all green magic is his.

however when his eyes go all radio dial creepy they turn black, which, in my opinion, shows his soul isn’t his when he’s using his powers, similar to how angel only has one black eye because valentino only owns his soul in the studio.

it’s honestly a confusing mix, when he uses his powers his soul isn’t his, but they are HIS powers. so i think it’s most likely he sold his soul to make it easier to gain power on his own. he’s not stupid, if he got power through a deal the deal maker now has an element of control over his power. so he cuts corners, and with the help of presumably lilith, becomes more and more powerful.

if the deal was the source of his power he wouldn’t say that getting out of it will let him “pull the strings.” he wouldn’t even WANT out of it, his only motivation that we are certain of atm is power and control, and yes his deal takes his control but if it gives him his power losing that would take BOTH.

i think a crucial bit of information were missing is when did this deal happen and how does husk know. (and why didn’t alastor kill him but that’s vaguely explainable)

was it when he first got down? young and dumb and selling his soul, which would explain how he made such a big splash so quick? or was it seven years ago? gaining power at the expense of leaving hell with lilith to do god knows what?

i think it’s far more likely to have been when he first got to hell, and lilith was able to exercise her control over him to get him to leave with her. obviously his place in the hotel isn’t because he’s bored, that’s been made clear several times. so why?

it’s possible it’s part of his deal with lilith but she’s still such a mystery i don’t think it’s safe to say anything about her. alastor said in ep 7 that charlie was powerful, being on her side was a good bet, and he could mold her. based on that and his presumably genuine interest in everyone, i think he’s choosing to be there. it’s chess, moves and counter moves, etc. he stays at the hotel and he isn’t lying when he calls it his latest project. he’s just lying about why. he saw naive charlie on tv and knew she would welcome him in, hence his evil little grin. that’s HIS choice, not liliths.

now, for his monologue in the tower. i’m going to be working off the idea everything in the song was an intentional decision and not made for the sake of sounding good.

“this place reeks of death, there’s a chill in the air” that seems like filler, painting the scenery, but i don’t think so. i think it’s meant to show he cares about the hotel and the people in it. he can physically FEEL the tragedy affecting him. he might not be as distraught about it as someone else, but he does care.

“i barley escaped being KILLED by a hair” he put emphasis of killed while singing, that’s the key take away. he almost died. he’s coming to terms with the limit of his power and it’s driving him insane. and i think it’s important to note that… he kinda, didn’t? almost die? his microphone broke (which does show power far greater that him) and he got thrown against the wall. that’s hardly enough to kill someone. he’s been untouchable most if not all of his time in hell, so this fight was a brutal reminder he IS vulnerable. he told adam he though he was tougher than him. tougher that the first ever soul and someone only lucifer was able to take down. his ego definitely got killed but i think this line shows he’s never really processed the idea of losing.

“‘alastor altruist died for his friends’” if you watch with captions you can see that line is in quotation marks. someone else is saying that, meaning he thinks the general perception of what happened will be that his reason for almost dying is to save the people in the hotel. but that’s just the words, next step is his facial expression. his eyes are wide and darting around, he’s gripping his face, he’s TERRIFIED. love is a weakness, he’s not just feeling weak (which IS part of why he’s spiraling), he’s being perceived as weak, which is so much worse. he’s losing his control and needs it back, leading to:

“sorry to disappoint, that is not how this ends.” there’s a couple things with this line. the Vs and other overlords will be disappointed because he’s not dead and his “friends” (his word, not mine, but i think it fits) will be disappointed he’s not willing to die for them like they maybe assumed he did. “not how this ends” is obvious, he didn’t die, so his rein didn’t end. but pulling back to his desperation in this scene, he’s angry, his latest power grab isn’t working out, but it will.

“i’m hungry for freedom like never before, the constraints of my deal surely have a back door ” again with the desperation, the fear, not sure if mania is the right word but it’s what comes to mind. he’s scrambling. but at the same time, how did his deal almost make him die?? he wants out of it, hence why i said i doubt it gives him his powers, so it must in some way limit his powers? but why would he make a deal that hinders him? again, this is why i think when he first got to hell he sold his soul to make it easier to gain his own power. but in some way his power isn’t HIS. it still is on a leash.

“once i figure out how to unclip my wings, guess who will be pulling all the strings” is showing us how he is still very VERY much power driven, and will stop at nothing to get control. he may be bound now, but in season two i think we’re gonna see a lot of him trying various means to break deals. i doubt he will be the big boss at the end of the season, but he’s playing his own game, and he is CRACKING. he’ll be violent, have an even quicker temper, charlie is going to try to help him but he’ll refuse. his mouth is sewn shut, so he can’t say WHY he’s so upset, but everyone will know something is wrong.

good GOD that was long

TLDR: “i think when he first got to hell he sold his soul to make it easier to gain his own power. but in some way his power isn’t HIS. it still is on a leash.”

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin spoilers #hazbin lilith #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin alastor theory

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amaranthineoceans · 3 years

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Everything Weird About Deltarune!

Spoiler Warning for Undertale and Both Chapters of Deltarune! Really! I Literally Go Through Everything I Can Remember About Them!

This is a long post so get comfortable. Also note that my brain doesn't process thoughts into words very well so some of these might not be worded in the best way. :)

Deltarune. The first teaser chapter was released on October 31, 2018, and it came out of nowhere. We've all gone through this, but I'll try and go through every single painstaking detail I can remember. Feel free to reblog and add/correct things.

The weirdness begins right off the bat. The title is an anagram of UNDERTALE. We all know Toby likes to use anagrams when he wants to indirectly tell us when things are related, so it's no surprise that when you go to download DELTARUNE, it warns you that the game is designed for people who have played UNDERTALE. You think, "Cool, so it's a sequel? Or maybe a prequel? A different perspective of UNDERTALE perhaps?" You were wrong; so terribly, terribly wrong! I'll elaborate on this later.

Before you download the application, the terms of service that you must agree to beforehand reads simply and plainly, "You accept everything that will happen from now on." This detail was kinda brushed off in the beginning, because, hey, it's Toby Fox. He does weird stuff all the time. But even in the first chapter, it's apparent that the concept of choice, or more accurately, the lack of it, is a very present theme in the game. I would like to remind you that Toby has announced that there will be one ending in the game. One. I'll elaborate on this later.

The program (as in, what the game is called in your files) is named SURVEY PROGRAM. Why not just call it Deltarune like it is when you download chapter two?

The game launches you, without a title screen, without any setting adjustment options, straight into a reference to the theme of the entire franchise: the lack of choice. A strange formless voice guides you through "making a vessel", with what we know now as a fountain in the background. You have the option to make some very disturbing choices in this character creator, such as making its favorite flavor "pain" or expressing your feelings about it with options such as "fear" and "disgust." You name your "creation," tell the formless voice your name (which is different from your vessel's name) and watch as said formless voice muses over your name at an agonizing pace. It thanks you for your time and tells you that your wonderful creation, (cue music cutout and background removal) will now be discarded. "No one can choose who they are in this world." The screen slowly turns white as the voice says, "Your... name... is..."

It gets weirder. The next scene appears from the whiteness and showcases Toriel calling "Kris" out of bed. Kris' area of the room is very bare in contrast to the other side, which we later discover is Asriel's.

It's Toriel. Why is Toriel here?

Kris is kind of an anagram of Frisk (the protagonist of UNDERTALE) but without the F. I highly doubt this is a coincidence.

Speaking with Noelle is the only reason you can proceed (see what i did there?) while finding a partner in the classroom. This means you can't go through the 1st chapter without knowing who she is. Is it because of the Snowgrave route?

Ralsei is just suspicious to me. There's no way he was just waiting in that castle his whole life alone without some mental toil. So either he's insane or he wasn't alone the whole time. What happened? Is it related to how he can close his eyes and see what Susie is going through when she's apart from the party? Was he just watching everything? Is he related to the formless voice?

Susie's icon is the only one without color in the Dark World.

Jevil's fight is more difficult than Sans'.

Your actions have little consequence in the first chapter. If you choose to go genocide, the only difference in the ending is being run out of the kingdom, and this doesn't carry over to the next chapter. Again, lack of choice, people.

If at the end of chapter one, you walk around town, it's mentioned (notably by Noelle) that you're usually not this talkative. If you go to the hospital and speak with the receptionist, they mention that you used to play the piano in the corner. If you decide to attempt to play the said piano, an out-of-key bash can be heard and the receptionist comments on how you used to play beautifully. If you try this in chapter two, the result is the same. All this is confirmation that Kris is acting noticeably weird.

When you leave the Dark World and walk around town, you can find Sans. He "pretends" to recognize you, and if you tell him you recognize him, he tells you it's funny, considering that you two have never met before. He winks. I'm pretty sure he knows that the player is there.

The mention of Papyrus in both games, but the purposeful lack of him. Like he's avoiding you.

If you go upstairs while inside Asgore's flower shop, there are flowers in glass cases resembling his SOUL collection in UNDERTALE. There's a red flower.

You can't enter the church.

The clock in the storage closet shows a different time than all the others in the school.

If you go all the way south in town and into the woods, the music stops and you come across a rusty, double door is in a hill covered in crass. It's locked. If you go this way in chapter two, however, you watch a cutscene where you and susie happen to find Monster Kid from UNDERTALE (or someone resembling them) and an owl kid in front of the door. The owl kid is pressuring Monster Kid to (presumably) break inside, telling them that they don't want to be a wimp like Kris. Does this imply that Kris is connected to this strange door somehow?

The ending. You know what I'm talking about.

Did Kris actually rip out the SOUL (I say "the" because I'm not entirely sure it's Kris') and knife because they wanted to eat the pie? Did they only eat the pie because Toriel caught them?

Why did they look at the player? Are they sick of being controlled? Is that why they freaked out after the Spamton fight? (later)

Anyway, now we're at chapter two.

DELTARUNE Chapter Two was released on September 17th, 2021. 17. Entry Number 17. Sound familiar?

Asriel's part of the room is different from the last chapter. I don't think this means anything sinister, but I think it means Kris notices different things about the room as the story progresses. My theory is that it will become more sinister in each chapter.

Ralsei getting super excited to see Susie and Kris after a day. As in he has separation anxiety and it breaks my heart. not anything suspicious but it makes me sad so it's on the list.

Kris and Susie's rooms. Ralsei REALLY doesn't want them to leave. Seriously get this boy a therapist. Or a stuffed animal. SOMETHING.

Kris having to gather everything from the storage closet so that people appear in the Dark World????? Why??????????????? They had to do the same thing for the computer lab too.

The golden door. I don't trust it.

How/why the heck did Noelle and Berdley go into the Computer Lab Dark World? I don't see either of them just walking into pulsing void doors without Susie.

Apparently the knight has been gone for a bit and can corrupt people's minds? The king in the first chapter doesn't seem like he can be redeemed but Queen just seems,,, not bad, but a little crazy. I wonder what happened.

Then again, name ONE person in this franchise without trauma.

Spamton.

Horror doesn't bother me. Spamton? Spamton bothers me.

SPAMTON. ENOUGH SAID.

A Kromer is a type of hat invented in the '70s. Nobody named Mike is associated with it, that I can find.

SPAMPTON. HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE IT.

HIS SONG IS THE ONLY ONE WITH WORDS.

The way he asks Kris is they want to be a heart on a chain their whole life. Like, dude, no wonder they were screaming after the fight.

WHERE DID THE YELLOW HEART COME FROM. YELLOW MEANS JUSTICE. WHY DOES JUSTICE APPLY.

Kris screaming after the fight and the player not being able to hear it. Don't you dare tell me that's just how the game is designed. There are sound effects characters make throughout the game. None that I can think of apply to Kris, apart from when they rip their soul out.

Ralsei brushing off the Spamton fight. Either that's his coping mechanism or he was trying to shut Susie and Kris up to protect them from... something. I'll touch on that in a minute.

According to Queen, DETERMINATION is a key factor in creating a fountain.

Also according to Queen, Kris, Noelle, and Susie all have DETERMINATION SOULS.

Ralsei freaking out about Berdley making a fountain implies that he may also have DETERMINATION. Why I'm bringing all this up will make sense soon.

How was Noelle able to cast Snowgrave... a spell that she, according to her, didn't know?

The Snowgrave route is so twisted.

You manipulate Noelle into killing Berdley and then, when you get back to the computer lab and investigate his corpse, the text box says that he doesn't seem to be awake. As if you're in denial?

Burgerpants recognizes you. Not Kris. As in the player.

The ending. I don't think I need to describe it. Kris is very methodical without the SOUL. (I say "the" because, again, I'm not 100% convinced it's theirs.) I'm saying this about how they left clues that someone broke into the This proves that they are NOT a mindless, vengeful husk.

HOW DID THEY MAKE THE FOUNTAIN WITHOUT THE SOUL INSIDE OF THEM. DID THEY FEED THE SOUL TO IT AFTERWARDS? IS THAT WHAT THAT WAS?

Another point I would like to make is my theory that Ralsei knows much more than he would have us believe. I might put this into a different post because I have yet to gather my points into a coherent bullet point list, so keep an eye out for that.

Anyway apart from Toriel and Susie being VERY heavy sleepers, I think I've gone through everything. I have a few theories.

1. Kris is possessed by the player and figured out that they could make a fountain from Queen and related to Spamton freaking out about freedom. They then decided to make a fountain going by the logic that "this would tick the player off." This is one of my top theories that assumes that the SOUL is theirs.

And 2. Kris is possessed by both the player and the knight. I think the formless voice at the very beginning of the game is the knight, and they somehow needed the player to possess someone with DETERMINATION. If so, then why Kris? We know from Queen that Noelle and Susie, and maybe even Berdley also have DETERMINATION. The most plausible thing I can think of is the fact that human souls are stronger than monster ones.

I do think that the popular theory (about the one that suggests that the Dark Word is nothing but a figment of a child's imagination, and the events that occur in said Dark World are simply children playing with toys) has been thoroughly dashed due to Berdley's murder in the genocide route of the second chapter. Unless he's not dead. Regardless, how the events (or lack thereof) that occur in the second chapter play through the next will be interesting, especially considering Toby's announcement about how there will be one ending to the game. So either Berdley isn't dead, or he will be.

Aaaand I think that's it! Sorry for the long post; let me know your thoughts and if I missed anything!

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune theory #deltarune theories #deltarune chapter two theory #deltarune chapter two theories #snowgrave #pipis route #deltarune snowgrave #video games #indie game #deltarune spoilers #ralsei #kris #susie #undertale #sans

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tale-xistime · 3 years

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“before i wanted nothing to do with you; now i can’t imagine my life without you” for Lizzington?

| So I saw THIS ⬇️…

https://tale-xistime.tumblr.com/post/656479243714330624/thecollectibles-shoe-studies-by-julia

…post and something about it just SCREAMED Red to me. I really wanted to do a fic with Red having these sock clips, and just with Reds fashion in general. When suddenly a little inkling in my mind was like, hey there’s a prompt buried somewhere that could go along with the direction you want to take this, so I looked, and here this was! So I hope everyone enjoys the concept of sock garters on Red as much as I do, and here is this! Also Spaders, thank you for the prompts you’ve sent and how patient you’ve been, and I hope you enjoy this my friend. |

Dressing impeccably is part of what makes the Concierge of Crime, the Concierge of Crime. Raymond Reddington has a routine he uses in the mornings to get dressed, and well, Liz just feels blessed to see it for the first time.

(She could get used to this.)

Last night got a little out of hand. But only in the best way possible. They were on an undercover op, playing as a couple. Their contact had given them the information they needed and left, leaving them to their own devices. They stayed together, and just simply talked. They ate dinner together, and drank enough wine to take the edge off, but not to be past the point of a clear mind. They sat for hours, long past the op’s completion, talking about various childhood stories, likes and dislikes, and then somehow miraculously, the conversation shifted to the topic of each other.

“Red, what do you think of me?”

She clearly remembered the way he had cocked his head, leaning in closer as if she were sharing a secret.

“In terms of what, Lizzie?”

“Just in terms of, viability as a partner. A romantic partner.”

This took Red aback, making him lean back from the table slightly. He swirled the glass of wine around, just to give his hands something to do as he tried to collect the right words.

“Intelligent. Breathtakingly beautiful, innately clever, kind, resourceful, caring. Any man would be lucky to have you Lizzie.” He finished quietly, looking down to the table, anywhere but at Lizzie.

“Mmm.” His reaction told her just what she was wondering, just what she needed to be confirmed. She felt emboldened by Red's compliments, and a daring, reckless, probably worst but possibly best idea that she had ever had began to form in her mind.

She was feeling brave tonight.

It didn’t take long watching him examine her curiously before she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to tell him.

(She was falling in love with him. She couldn’t say when it had happened, perhaps it had been when he had saved her life, maybe it was as recent as tonight or maybe she had just always loved him, from the second she descended upon his chained figure down in the box. She just had to realize it for herself.)

“I don’t want just any man though.” She said quietly, eyes cast downward. Shocking him out of his quite obvious inspection of her face. His eyebrows stuck together, their breath mingling over the table they were both leaning over. She looked back up to him, wondered what he was thinking from behind his confused expression.

She continued, talking quickly to get it all out in a rush, before she lost her nerve and changed her mind.

“I want one man. The only problem is I think he’s too scared, too scared to let go of his fears and self doubts to believe that I could want him too. Something real, unlike what I had with Tom.”

She steeled her nerves, figuring it was too late to turn back now as she traced her hand up from his knee, to rest on his inner thigh. Needing some way to cement in his mind who the subject matter could be. It worked.

His face had changed with every word she said, with every inch the pads of her fingertips climbed. He was bewildered, shaken, and almost hopeful.

His shock only grew as Liz took her other hand to gently guide his face, leaning him further over the table for his lips to align with hers. He was losing control, and while one part of him was reveling in letting Lizzie take control, reveling in what she was implying that she could want to be with him, that she could want him, the other half of him screamed to stop! Because he could only ever bring her pain, misery, and danger, when she deserved everything else pure and good in the world instead of his useless husk of a self-

“Lizzie,” he had gasped, just a breath away, wanting to do anything but talk. “It's too dangerous, you and me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do, especially if you were hurt by someone I unintentionally brought into your life, I would only ever put you in danger and I can’t-” His pleading was interrupted by her gentle but fervent yank on his jaw, her calm and determined eyes meeting his.

“Raymond,” she spoke his name, his God given name for the first time she could remember. Reaching her hand up higher on his thigh, she ran her fingers over his scalp. His eyes drifted closed at the sensation, eliciting a deep thrum from him.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, because before I wanted nothing to do with you, but now I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m falling for you, and I need you. I want you. Let me in. We’ll protect each other and survive, thrive, just like we always do. Take me home. Let me show you how much I need you. How much I love you.”

She leaned in, meeting him halfway over their table and kissed him.

It was a chaste thing, their mouths only slightly sliding and slipping together.

They broke apart, eyes closed and forehead to forehead, unreasonably breathless and completely undone.

Her arms snaked around his shoulders, running her palms over his shorn hair to rest on his neck. His hands moved to rest on her knees, and before long he threw down a 20 and swept her out of the restaurant to his safe house.

They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other on the drive, and barely made it past the door before his slacks were unbuttoned on the floor and her dress was unzipped and slung haphazardly on a doorknob.

It was the best sex she’d ever had.

Tom couldn’t hold a candle to Red. He knew just what she wanted, his talents extending far far beyond what even she had imagined. They just worked together. Perfectly.

“We’re gonna make a great team.”

She had never had a man be able to get her to see stars. Let alone twice back to back.

The various dreams and fantasies she had let play out in her mind before, well the real thing was just so much better.

She woke up this morning in his arms, warm and curled into his side, his nose nuzzled into her tousled hair. Her hands gently twitched to life against the curve of his spine, her eyes blinking open to the sun that streamed through the sheer curtains.

She awoke first out of the two of them, allowing her the experience of watching him slowly wake, cuddling as close to her as possible as he rested.

His face was youthful and slack, his mouth slightly open in a small snore.

It was glorious.

Red had eventually slowly awakened, looking more rested than she could ever remember.

She’d hugged him, and peppered his face with kisses, before he snagged her lips and pulled her onto him. His neck craned up to meet hers, hands lightly settled on her waist.

He’d pulled away, gently tucking her cascading hair behind her ear before whispering in his deepest and most graveled morning voice.

“Good morning sweetheart.”

Her heart swelled at the sight of him, at the sound of him.

“Good morning love.”

She settled against his chest, listening as his overwhelmed heart skipped a prompt beat due to her words.

They laid there for a while, Lizzie about to fall back peacefully asleep when suddenly Red shifted from under her.

“Is that really the time?” His line of sight had caught the glowing orange clock in the corner of the room, perched on a dresser.

“Oh shit, you have to meet your contact with last night's info right?”

Liz slid off Red, the covers pooling around her as he leapt to his feet.

“Yes. In under an hour.”

And with that he disappeared into his closet, occasionally throwing a piece of a suit onto the dresser.

Her mind wandered back to him, to his perfection, his skill. Which ultimately proved to be a disservice to herself, with every thought of last night and it’s activities, she was left craving more.

Red came back into the room, buck naked and bared for only her to see. That certainly didn’t help her in her effort to try and behave.

To try and occupy her, she watches him start to get ready, and quickly finds herself becoming fascinated with his dressing regiment. A process she quickly begins memorizing.

He pulls on a pair of black boxers first, (she tries not to let herself be disappointed by this complete loss of her new most favorite view) soon followed by impeccable black slacks.

A taunt leather belt, and white undershirt are next.

She watches in awe as he pulls on the shirt, his arms drifting up through the fabric first, hands stretching towards the rich cream of his smooth ceiling before helping to lift the bunched cloth past his shorn hair.

His head quickly follows with his calloused and capable hands help, the white of the shirts’ threads appearing to pool around his shoulders in one swift motion.

He situates the fabric to wash down his torso, now completely concealing his supple, and scarred skin from her.

He fists his button-up, sliding one arm and then the next through the crisp, snow white polyester. He turns to face her then, knowing that she’s watching with the utmost interest, cocking his head and examining the lust left plain on her face. Matching it with his own.

His eyes skim easily down her mainly bare body, just sitting there, plainly exposed on his sheets.

(His sheets!)

He can’t handle it anymore, knows that if he keeps looking at her softness he’ll crack, so he gulps and turns away. Trying to calm down the blush rising.

His nimble fingers make fast work of the buttons, and before long he swings on his favorite windowpane waistcoat, the silky fabric as jet-black as a moonless sky.

Her trance is broken by his soft murmur, just barely audible as his hand grabs a silver Rolex and fastens it to his other wrist, his waistcoat left unbuttoned.

“Lizzie, can you grab me a tie?” She blinks once or twice before moving, grabbing last night's undershirt off the floor as she does so.

Raymond is dumbfounded as she tugs on his shirt, watching as the oversized cloth drifts down past the only thing she previously had on. The sapphire, lacy blue panties now completely shielded.

His mouth is wide open, for more than a second, struck speechless by the complete lack of hesitation Elizabeth had in completely wrecking him.

She returns still wearing his shirt, a storm cloud grey tie clutched in her hands. Dark crosshatching running along its surface. Slinging it across his shoulders and tucking it under his collar, she begins tying it without a word, their breath mingling together.

The tension between them is smooth, rich, and welcomed. But at the same time it remains jagged, pulling, and cutting. Something has shifted, and now they need each other. It’s something primal, the pair of heating cores in the room, if just due to the proximity and domesticity of waking up to one another. The urge created by perfect balance and harmony the night before. It’s effects are intoxicating, addictive, and demanding.

She finishes the knot easily, adjusting the tie and looking up into his pupil-blown eye.

(They can’t take much more of this.)

Her fingers move to his waistcoat, fastening and smoothing it down his chest.

His cologne still lingers on his clothing, strong enough for her to catch a whiff of it on his neck.

It’s this that throws her over the edge, this that makes her decide to stop playing nice.

Her lips move slowly to cup his neck, feeling his pulse beneath them as she stands on her tippy toes. They move lethargically over his pulse point, a small circular scar under her roaming tongue.

(Liz is now determined to get what she wants. Meetings and work be damned.)

His eyes drift close, neck arching to give her access, begging her to feed his aching, and it’s at this point he knows he really has no chance of winning. He’s putty in her hands. That doesn’t mean he won't give her a run for her money though.

He suddenly moves away. Gulping past the smirk on his face.

Line, hook, and sinker. She knows he’s only playing hard to get, he likes to toy with her that way. She can’t say she minds. She can play too.

Red grabs his pair of cotton crew socks along with a pair of silver and black sock garters and heads for the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress, keeping his face down and out of her line of sight. Leaving her standing where he left her.

He crosses his right leg, rolling up his pant leg before stretching his sock up and over his foot. He clasps the sock garter then, the elastic contracting to grip his calf. He clips both clasps into his sock, then rolls his pant leg back down. Switching feet to start the process again, prompting Liz to action.

She slides behind him, the fabric of his suit moving with each action he takes.

Red tries his best to seem as though he’s ignoring her, though that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Liz rests her lips on the top of his shoulder, hands moving around the front to find purchase to spread out on his hips, before she begins moving her mouth along the hem of his waistcoat. Gliding past his collar to the base of his neck, before moving up and along the side of it. She moves up and along his hairline, his hair delightfully prodding and tickling her lips. She gives open-mouthed kisses to the back of his ear, before nipping and tugging at his ear lobe.

Red had been proud of himself for sticking it out this long, keeping painfully quiet throughout all her ministrations, but when she’s breathing in his ear, and nipping at his skin he’s suddenly no longer able to keep the sound of his shaking breath quiet.

She picks up on this, and stops immediately. Smiling mischievously from ear to ear. She slides out from behind him, grabbing his shoes before dropping to her knees in front of him.

She gently palms his foot, sliding his black oxfords on. Well aware of the fact that he can see straight down her baggy new shirt from his vantage point.

She ties both shoes, then pulls him to a stand by his collar, leaving him to stand on shaky knees as she pulls his grey suit-coat on him.

She stands in front of him now, remaining still despite every fiber in her screaming to reach out and claim him once again.

He’s fully clothed, his armor securely fastened to go do what he does best. Take on the world.

She, on the other hand, is almost fully naked, the drenching shirt rippling in the draft currently crossing his bedroom. (Their bedroom.)

She smooths down his waistcoat one last time, hands lingering before she looks up at his eyes again, both blue and green overrun by black and aching need, before they move at the same time. She grabs his tie and yanks him to her, untucking it from his waistcoat and using it to her full advantage.

Meanwhile he grabs her waist and thrusts her closer, hands fluttering against bare skin and lace. Their lips meet and lock, sliding and pleasing their way to that much needed balance. She backs him into the bed, his knees buckling quite willingly as she lays him down.

She breaks away panting.

Kneeling in front of him again to undo all the useless dressing she just completed. Not completely useless, she reminds herself, finding that she is indeed enjoying ripping off his fine suits and clothing once again. She gets to his sock garters, fumbling to unclasp and peel them off with his socks, before he grabs his phone. With a bit-lip and closed eyes he calls Dembe explaining that he will need Dembe to go to their contact to drop off the necessary information in his stead. Dembe obliges without hesitation, not even wanting to know the reason for Red's absence as he hears a barely audible moan escape Red across the phone as Lizzie shucks off Raymonds pants and traces her lips up his inner thigh. Red closes the phone and tosses it, Lizzie giving a giggle.

“And to think of all that time we could have spent enjoying ourselves instead of you trying to leave. A fruitless venture I might add.”

Red gives a chuckle himself. Suddenly stopping Liz mid kiss and flipping her.

Her back landing gently on the mattress where he previously was.

“Sorry darling. Allow me to make it up to you.”

#talexistime #my fic #ace of Spaders prompt #sock garters #raymond reddington #the blacklist #lizzington #elizabeth keen #elizabeth keen and raymond reddington

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natasharomanoffismywife · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Leave You (Natasha x Y/n)

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Tag List: @natasha-danvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @disneykid125 @summergeezburr @nowthisisliving27 @sighsam @stop-drop-and-drumroll @hcartbyheart

Word count:1,189

This is my apology for the last few fics being very short, I’m in a writing mood today so expect a few more stories coming today :) Enjoy! x

We had managed to track down Ultron and had a battle with his two followers, the two enhanced we faced a few weeks ago at the HYDRA base. This time however it wasn’t me that came against the mind witch, it was Steve, Thor and worst of all Nat.

Not only have they fucked with them they also caused Bruce to go green resulting in the hulk and Tony fighting until he became Bruce again, we now all find ourselves on a quinjet going to a safe house which I feel is going to be the Barton family farm.

I am sat with a shaking Natasha in my arms, she has come out of the spell but is unresponsive. The only thing that shows me that she is still awake is the tightening of her hands in the back of my suit every time I move an inch. She turns to look at me and I can see fear in those eyes I fell in love with, I press a loving kiss to her clammy forehead and I feel her lean into the touch.

I feel the jet land and Clint comes to my other side to help walk Natasha out and into the safe house, we round up the group and we all go into the house to see Clint’s wife,Laura, waiting for us. I nod to Clint indicating that i’ve got Nat, so he leaves Natasha’s side and runs to give Laura a huge kiss and hug.

Clint introduces her to the team and not long after we hear the footsteps of the kids running in to hug their dad. I smile as I see the small family reunite and embrace and I turn to see a smile grace Natasha’s face as well, Tony breaks the happy moment though by asking why they didn’t know about them.

“Did you bring Auntie Nat and Auntie Y/n?” Little Lila asks halting the convo Clint and Tony were having, the avengers turn to make a clearing for us to step into and I see Laura and Clint grin at us.

“Why don’t you give us a hug to find out” Nat husks out as she grabs Lila and swings her up into her arms, the noise of Lila screaming happily brings a smile to everyones faces. Cooper runs up to me and I give him a huge bear hug, he may be 8 but he still can’t resist a good bear hug from his Auntie Y/n.

“We need a place to lay low for a while and I know the kids have been asking to see Nat and Y/n” Clint explains to Laura, who simply smiles and waves him off before going around and introducing herself personally to everyone else. She stops in front of me and wraps her arms around my frame, she is only slightly taller than Nat so I tower over her which amuses the kids.

“How is she?” Laura whispers in my ear as we hug, I lean back and give her a somber smile. She is not only a huge momma bear to her family but also to Natasha and myself so to see us like this hurts her too.

“Not great, they showed her the red room Laur, she seems a lot better now being around the kids” I murmur to her, her face hardens when I mention the red room but soon disappears and a smile breaks out on her face when she hears the loud laughter of her children playing with the red head.

“Nothing better than the farm for that” Clint says as he comes over and places a warm hand on my shoulder, before the Avengers Clint, Natasha and I worked as the highest regarded team in S.H.I.E.L.D being looked over by Coulson our superior officer.

Us four, Maria Hill and Fury became a family,Clint was my big brother who whilst being highly annoying at times, wouldn’t have it another way.

I smile before I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. I look up to find the owner of it being Nat, she gives me a soft smile but her eyes are begging me to find a quiet room and talk her nightmare out. I give her a nod and a loving smile before I stand and I wrap my hand around hers before I drag her up to the spare bedroom we share when we visit.

We both stay standing upright and she starts to pace around the room, I don’t say anything and I don’t do anything I just stand still waiting for her to start talking.

“I saw the red room, but it wasn’t like a movie. I was holding the gun, I was feeling the pain, was that what it was like for you?” She asks me shakily, I nod but don’t say anything or move.

As much as I would love to wrap her up in my arms and tell her that she is ok I also know she will close up and not tell me what she needs to get out, so I just stand still watching and listening as my soulmate falls apart.

“I was going through the graduation ceremony all over again Y/n, I was chained to a gurney and was then wheeled into the operation room. I could feel the cut of the blade as they sterilised me, I have tried to forget the horrors I faced in that place but 5 minutes into our mission it all came flooding back. I was brought up to feel that love was for children but then you and Clint saved me and took me into S.H.I.E.L.D and broke down my walls, I fell in love with you. I can’t have kids, the dream you have of seeing a mini me running around is not going to ever happen. I hate not being able to give you want you want.” Natasha sobs out, once she stops speaking I walk over to her and pull her into my arms letting her sob into my chest.

Once she calms down I bring her to an arms length so I can make sure she is making eye contact with me.

“I am so sorry you had to go through all that pain and torture, If I ever get my hands on those people that did those things to you I would rip them to pieces. Yes I would love a mini Natasha but we can still have that, they don’t have to come from you to be a mini you. I adore you Natasha, you are my person, the one I love. I can live without having kids, I can’t live without you.” I passionately say as we touch our foreheads together, she starts to cry silently so I pull her into a loving kiss and then hold her while she cries.

Everything I have just told her was from my heart, I can not and will not live without Natasha Romanoff.

#I won't leave you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers fanfiction

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thelovelyghostwriter · 3 years

Text

KuraNeon Short Fic

Okay, this is one of my longer tumblr short fics, it’s 1000+ words.

Rated M because of lemon. Pairing: Kurapika/Neon

This is not the full length of the fic, the full version will be completed and posted on AO3 when I have the time.

Before anyone starts complaining about their age, Kurapika and Neon are born in the same year. In the current arc, Kurapika is technically 19 years old. I have had people complain about Neon being underaged (people deadass think she’s 12 to 16 tf), but then they go ahead and sexualise Kurapika because “he is an adult because he’s 19”. You can check it here.

Anyway, it’s fiction. Don’t take it seriously. I will just block anyone who tries to start a drama over drawings and fanfics.

Warning: sexual content, hate-sex, angry sex, angst, mentions of daddy issues

Here we go:

Kurapika wanted to stop this... Whatever they were doing. Yet his reasoning flies out of the window whenever he sees Neon in a flattering night attire.

Here he was, shirtless, with the woman sitting on his lap. Her spaghetti-strapped blouse was pushed down, her breasts exposed to him.

"I told you not to tempt me," he said. He licked her nipple and bit it lightly. Neon let out a small groan.

Kurapika had attempted to tell her that this dirty affair they had was inappropriate and unbecoming of them. Yet, for the past week, Neon had been giving him subtle flirtations and wearing clothes that showed off her skin (as compared to the baggy ones she normally wears).

The last straw was her talking about his Scarlet Eyes... while fondling the chains on his hand.

No.

That had to stop. For one, she was teasing him. Secondly, she recently found out about his Kurta identity - she was pissing him off on purpose to get "punished".

That woman should know her place, objectifying his clan's eyes like that.

He placed small kisses on her neck, then back again to her breasts. She shivered - it felt good.

"Are you happy now? You spoiled girl," he muttered against her breath sternly. She yelped when he slapped her ass.

Huh? That's weird.

His hands got underneath her skirt. Fuck. This girl wasn't even wearing a pair of underwear. She really wanted to get hate-fucked. By him. Again.

His fingers found her sex, all dripping in her arousal for him.

"So good," she mewled. She quivered under his touch.

Of course, she was satisfied, but never happy. There was a difference.

He inserted another finger.

Neon had always been like him - an empty vessel. Perhaps, even lonelier than him.

"M-more!" she moaned, demanding to be satisfied.

"Always wanting to be pampered," he huffed. What a greedy girl.

A father who exploited her fortune-telling, for fame and power; in exchange, he'd buy her all the things she wanted. The endless indulgence of material goods that she filled her heart with, yet it can never be full.

Ever since the Lovely Ghostwriter was stolen from her, the one thing that made her useful to her father... It was gone.

"You can never be satisfied, Neon," he said.

"Yet, you still do this with me," she countered, playing with his blond hair. She gripped Kurapika's hair and looked at his now-reddened eyes. Those eyes were beautiful... that held so much wrath and danger.

She had loved them when they were on a set of casing...but to see them on a deranged man when he takes her... it was... strangely exciting.

Kurapika said nothing, only kissing her in response.

Shut the hell up - he thought. He didn't like when she played mind games while they were doing this.

The kiss tasted sweet - so much turmoil in him, that he wished that a kiss could wash it all away. Wash away all his painful memories.

She snaked her hand into his pants. He hissed at the contact. Fuck. He needed this.

She giggled at his reaction, seemingly pleased, but her eyes said otherwise. Her father no longer paid attention to her, and it was obvious that she was trying to replace this by letting her head bodyguard (who was the same age as her) fill her.

She inserted his penis into her, squealing. God, Kurapika disliked her high-pitched voice whenever she complained. Yet, the noise that she makes during sex was what rubbed his ego - pleading, squealing, mewling, moaning as he rammed into her.

He halted for a moment, to lay her back against the bed. Then slammed himself again. Neon screamed, then covered her mouth alarmingly. He was enraged, she could tell. She really got onto his nerves, with her callous comment.

That disgusting hobby of hers. Collecting dead body parts that reflected her lack of sympathy towards the dead. Again, to fill that empty husk of her beautiful body. To treat people like objects because people see her as a predictive tool. A mere object.

She was her father's cash cow, the mafioso's crystal ball, another name in Chrollo's book and now, Kurapika's personal sex doll.

He removed her mouth. He wanted to hear her. She bit her lip, attempting to be quiet as possible.

He knew this. He wrapped her arms around her lower back, giving a new angle to ride her further. She yelped, in both surprise and ecstasy.

"Slow... Down..." she pleaded, her fingernails digged his shoulders. He said nothing.

"Papa... Papa might - ah!- hear us," she reasoned to him.

But he did not listen.

"I think - ah fuck!- he already... He knows," he said.

It was an open secret around the Nostrade mansion. It was not far-fetched for the young pair, who were equally lonely, to get caught into some odd agreement. She did expect her father to have some sort of reaction, though?

Neon's eyes watered slightly. Whether it was due to her being upset with her father's nonchalance, or Kurapika's roughness - Kurapika was unsure.

Kurapika did help Light recover from their financial slump by redirecting their mafioso business into something else. Perhaps it was some sort of sick reward Kurapika has earned when he chose to help them.

He brushed away the mascara-stained tears from her face. "Stop crying," he commanded, and gave a deep thrust that caused her to yell.

He did know she was going through a tough issue. But it can never be compared to him, his loss. The eyes of his clan gouged out just for people like her to enjoy them as displays. He should be the one crying, but there were no more tears left for him to shed.

He then remembered her hobby - why he was here in the first place. He began to incorporate his resentful energy into the form of pulsating desire, pounding into her mercilessly.

"Give it to me..." she begged, holding him tightly while her toes curled.

Her whole body started to shake.

So close...

Just a little more...

Then he stopped.

Neon immediately glared at him. It was one of his punishments again. To give her all the pleasures into a peak then abruptly crashing it into such a non-climatic disaster.

He laid on her side, brushing her messy hair off her face. They were both sticky, perspiring from their intimacy.

"Don't cry," he comforted and kissed her forehead.

Or I will give you something real to cry about, flesh collector.

She nodded. "Good girl," he said. He stood up.

He gripped her thighs, dragging her until her lower body was out of the bed. "Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed him.

"Wait..." she protested, looking back slightly, "I want to see your eyes while you-" He gripped her hair. The audacity of this girl to still treat his eyes like a commodity... but in her eyes, he is the same. Another man in her life that sees her as an instrument.

"No. Not tonight, Neon. Look in front," he instructed.

If I catch you looking back, you're going to get it - he thought while he inserted his dick inside her again.

"I- ah!" she heaved, "I - hah - hate you..."

She managed to blurt out. He frowned. He didn't like that, be it she truly meant it or it was out of not getting what she wanted.

Because he couldn't resent her. He disliked her attitude, sheltered personality, her hobby... and worst of all, how she makes him desire her.

But it was never hatred. That was a feeling meant for the Phantom Troupe. She wasn't special enough for that.

He found her clitoris and rubbed it, all swollen and wet from arousal.

He noticed how she opened her legs slightly further to give him better access. Such hatred, huh.

"Yet... You're here," he replied. All he got was a repetition of her breathless curses and whimpers.

“Just… mmph! Turn me around…” she mumbled in the midst of the coitus.

“No-”

“P-please?”

No response. He only did her harder.

“I’ll… do anything,” she said. She looked back, rebelling against his rule. She kissed him before he could scold her. Neon stared at the glowing eyes, completely bewitched by them.

“Anything?” he questioned, and he withdrew himself out of her.

“Yes, daddy, anything-”

She pouted for an added-effect. She knew that was one of his weaknesses. Kurapika sighed.

“Okay-”

It was going to be a long night: he wasn’t done with her yet.

[A/N: I did not proofread this, so pardon the grammatical errors]

#kuraneon #kuraneo #kuraneon fic #kuraneo fic #kurapika x neon #kurapikaxneon #kurapika and neon #kurapika is drowning #kurapika is drowning in an indescribable emptiness #neon nostrade #kurapika

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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 years

Text

Imagine # 684

2,874 - Words

Gif is NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

Warnings - Smut, Swearing, mentions of rape, blood, and abuse.

Notes - This one kinda got outta hand, but I hope you enjoy it none the less.

----

Huddled in the far corner (Y/n) pulled her knees into her chest, cuddling into herself. Her eyes quickly scanning the room, her beautiful orbs snapping to the door, as the guards dragged in the newest patient. He was limp in there arms, pumped full of drugs to keep him calm, and obedient. Watching him closely as they tossed him down into a chair carelessly. And she watched as the guards stalked back out of the room, flinching when John White entered the room. (Y/n) pulled her knees into her chest further, and watched as he roamed the room, even biting her lip when he stopped at the new guys side. However when the new guy, despite all the drugs pumping through his veins, spat him Johns face (Y/n) couldn’t help but smile. And when John walked away from the drugged up man (Y/n) quickly scurried across the room to the mans side. When she reached him she hunkered down and pushed her way to settle between his legs, resting her hands on his knees. Looking up at him with a fearful look, as he slowly turned his head to look at her, drool dribbling down his chin. “He frightens me, that man.” She nodded her head in John direction. “John White he’s foul, crazier than anyone else here.” She murmured tearing her eyes away from John to look up at the man before her. “He tried touching me once.” Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout, and her eyes glossed over. “I screamed until my lungs ached, and when that didn’t work I broke a glass over his head.” (Y/n) grasped his pants between her fingers tighter. “I avoid him at all coasts now, and when I cant avoid him, I cause trouble...” Her eyes scanned the room, while the man before her watched her face closely. “Get myself locked up in solitary for a few days.” She murmured before licking her lips quickly. “My names (Y/n).” She added while looking up into his eyes, before attempting to move away from him. But she stilled when he grunted at her, spitting a little as he attempted to lean towards her. “Careful.” She gasped softly while catching him in her arms, gently pushing him back into his seat so he wouldn’t fall. “Do you want me to stay?” She tilted her head a little while kneeling down to draw less attention to herself, nodding her head in agreement when he slowly opened his legs, allowing her to sit between them again. “If you behave they won’t sedate you like this, then you could tell me your name.” She offered a small smile, but it washed away in an instant as she scanned the room again.

----

The following day (Y/n) entered the rec room, and as usual made her way for the farthest corner in the room. Where she sat on the floor and curled into herself as always. Except this time someone approached her, and before she could see their face she began screaming. “No no no calm down love its just me.” The man cooed as he knelt down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t recognized the voice so she calmed knowing it wasn’t John White, and she was surprised to find it was the drugged man from yesterday, except this time he wasn’t all drugged up. “See you’re okay love.” He hummed comfortingly at her, pleased with himself that he had calmed her down. “Your.” She wet her lips before scanning the room, finding one of the bigger guards already starring at her. Making her whimper as she quickly looked away, hiding her head between her knees. “What’s wrong hm?” He asked before turning to see what had frightened her, growling under his breath at the sight of the guard. “Has he hurt you (Y/n)?” He asked as he turned back to her, biting his lip to quell his anger when she nodded her head yes. “What has he done to you love?” He whispered softly, not wanting to frighten her. “He...” She raised her head from her knees, looking to the bald man with teary eyes. “He touches me, and beats me if I try fighting back.” Her lip quivered as she spoke, her words making his blood boil with anger. “You stay here love, I’ll be right back.” He grasped her shaking hands in his steady ones, softly kissing her knuckles before standing to leave. (Y/n) watched as he approached the guard, gasping in shock when he began beating the ever living hell out of the guard. Whimpering softly under her breath as the other guards tore him away from the guard, beating him just as he had the guard. A stray tear falling from her eye just as she locked eyes with the man, sniffling softly when he smiled at her reassuringly.

----

It was several days before (Y/n) seen the man again in the rec room, and when she spotted him, he sat in her corner huddled up like she normally was. She didn’t know if he was making fun of her, or simply mimicking her actions innocently. When she reached him she hunkered herself into the corner of the room itself, a small space he seemingly left open just for her. And as she pulled her knees up to her chest he turned his entire body to her with a smile. “My names Michael Peterson, but you love can call me Micky.” His smile widened showing off his teeth, making (Y/n) giggle softly. “Thank you Micky, for attacking Brendan the other day.” Her voice was soft, but Michael heard her loud and clear. “And I’ll do it again if he ever touches you again, or anyone for that matter.” He scooted towards her a little closer, making her smile softly. “So tell me love, why are you in here?” Michael tilted his head a little, watching her intensely. “My dad... He was similar to Brendan, he didn’t actually rape me, but he would touch me over my clothes when he was drunk.” She scanned the room with her eyes before looking back to Michael, whos blood was boiling again. “He beat me bloody most nights, its where I got all my scars from.” She bit her bottom lip holding back her tears as she looked to the floor. “And one day I snapped, and I bashed his head in with a cricket bat.” The tears slowly began falling, making Michaels heart wrench in his chest. “They locked me up here, I’ve been here for six years now.” She sniffled softly, before Michael tilted her head back up, lightly brushing his thumb over the scar that ran from her nose, and down just passed her chin, marking the left side of her mouth forever. “You did nothing wrong love, those cunts should have given you a metal for protecting yourself.” Michael murmured while rubbing her jaw delicately with his knuckles. “Why are you here Micky?” (Y/n) asked as she wiped away her tears. “I robbed a post office, and got myself sent to prison. And I got into fight after fight, got transferred all over England, and I ended up here.” (Y/n) chuckled softly at his words. “What?” He grinned at her with curiosity in his eyes. “Seems like an afoul lot of trouble for just robbin a post office.” She chuckled again, biting her lip softly when Michael began chuckling himself. “Yeah... But everything happens for a reason doesn't it.” He mused while grasping her hand softly, toying with her fingers. “I believe so.” (Y/n) murmured so quietly that Michael almost didn’t hear her.

----

A year had gone by now (Y/n) and Michael, have been inseparable. And for this year together (Y/n) has been left alone by both guards, and patients. With Michael at her side, and after he beat Brendan, no one was dumb enough to mess with her. And with (Y/n) by his side, Michael was on his best behavior, worrying more about her wellbeing than starting trouble. “Micky come here.” (Y/n) whispered as she poked her head out of the bathroom, waving for Michael to join her. “What is it?” He asked as he slipped passed the door, his eyes twinkling when he noticed (Y/n) lock the door behind him. “I want to show you something.” She whispered before slipping out of her asylum issued gown, allowing it to pool at her feet. Michael inhaled deeply at the sight of her bare breasts, exhaling shakily as she approached him. His eyes slowly scanned over the scars speckling her belly and legs, before looking back into her eyes. He exhaled audibly through his nose, his anger spiking when she turned to reveal the deep scars littering her back. “I’ve never willingly shown anyone these.” She murmured quietly, gasping when his cold fingers began tracing the nasty scars. “My dad you’d to beat me with the dogs leash, it was a thin chain leash, it cut through my skin like a hot knife through butter.” She shivered at the feeling of Michaels hot breath fanning her back, as he huffed through his nose, trying to contain his anger. “I always wanted to get married some day, and have kids. But what man would ever marry me, and bless me with his children?” She frowned while wrapping her arms around her belly, her words unknowingly striking a cord in Michael. “Don’t say that.” He growled before turning her to face him. “Don’t ever say that.” He repeated as he cornered her against the nearest wall. “Micky.” She whispered feeling a little fearful, due to her past. “I’ll marry you the second we get out of here, and I’ll fill your belly with as many kids as you desire my dove.” He husked against her cheek, while his hands grasped her hips. “Just say the word, and I’m yours.” He murmured before lightly pecking the side of her mouth. “Micky.” (Y/n) moaned softly while pressing her body firmly against his. “Yeah dove?” He brushed his nose against hers affectionately. “I want to be yours.” She whispered leaning forward so their lips would lightly brush against each other. Michael waisted no time in closing the gap between them, and sealing their lips in a passionate and needy kiss.

“Micky.” (Y/n) moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to dominate her mouth. “(Y/n).” He growled before pulling away from the kiss, attacking her neck with hot open mouth kisses, smearing his saliva across her pale skin. Grunting and biting her neck softly when she grinded into his bulge. “Can I?” He husked into her ear, as he gently pulled her legs apart. “Please.” (Y/n) whined while grasping his shoulders tightly. With her permission Michael knelt down, now sitting face to face with her dampened pussy, he licked his lips before looking up at her face. “Please Micky.” She pouted down at him, giving him further encouragement. Delicately he picked up her right leg, and slung it over his shoulder. One hand grasping her left thigh, and his other cradling her ass in the palm of his hand. Teasingly he brushed the very tip of his nose up her clit, smirking when she mewled down at him. “Please don’t tease.” She whined while pulling him in closer with her leg slung down his back. Gasping in delight when he dove right in, and began eating her out, like she was his last meal. “Oh god Micky!” She panted while grasping the back of his head with both hands, pulling him in even further. Her eyes rolled back as he growled against her clit, before suckling on it harshly. “I’m... I’m.” She huffed between breaths, her mind to foggy to finish her sentence. Spurring Michael on further as he picked up the pace, now grasping her ass with both hands, burring himself between her legs as far as he could. “Yes!” (Y/n) cried out as her back began to arch off the wall, her legs trembling as she came, biting her lip to hold back her cries of pleasure, so the guards wouldn’t interrupt their fun. Michael slowly stood to his feet, keeping a firm hold on her hips so she wouldn’t fall.

“Ready for the real fun my sweet?” He hummed while licking his lips, greedily collecting her juices from his lips, and mustache. “Give me more.” (Y/n) purred before pulling him into a needy kiss, their hands both going straight for his trousers. Making them both chuckle into each others mouths, Michael mad quick work of slipping out of his pants, then braking away from the kiss to remove his shirt. Crashing his mouth against hers so hard the back of her head hit the wall with a hard thud. “Sorry love.” He murmured while cradling the back of her head with his right hand, gently soothing the pain away. “Fuck me already.” (Y/n) giggled against his chin, pulling away from the kiss just a little. “On it.” He grinned before hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, while she wrapped her arms around his thick neck. Lining himself up with her entrance, Michael slowly allowed her body to sink down onto him, grunting in pleasure as he entered her warmth inch by inch. “Ah fuck.” (Y/n) moaned out as he bottomed out inside of her, locking her ankles over each other, and locking him against her. “Tight.” Michael growled, trying his damndest to hold back, to allow her to adjust to his size. “Micky.” (Y/n) moaned while thrusting her hips into his, begging for him to move. “Brace yourself love.” Michael grunted before he tightened his grasp on her, thrusting into her nice and hard once, before he began pounding into her. Growling when she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her voice from anyone that might overhear.

----

It’s been four months now of (Y/n) being on her own, all because Michael had been released for good behavior, and being deemed sane. And for four months Michael has been busting his ass to get things together, and get (Y/n) released. He called her everyday, and made sure she was still okay. Surprisingly even with Michaels absence, (Y/n) was still left alone. And today was finally the day of her release, and Michael waited outside for her with bated breath. Alongside his mother and father, whom were eager to meet the girl Michael has been babbling about for the passed months. What Michael wasn’t expecting however was to watch you come walking out, with a swollen belly. “(Y/n).” He whispered under his breath before rushing towards the pregnant girl, who offered him a lopsided grin as he approached. “You’re pregnant.” Was the first words out of Michaels mouth when he reached her, kneeling down quickly to eye her belly closely. “I wanted to surprise you.” (Y/n) stroked the back of his head lovingly, giggling softly when he kissed her belly softly a few times. “Color me surprised love.” Michael hummed as he rose to his feet, pulling her into a hungry yet sweet kiss before she had a chance to say anything. “Oh I’ve missed you.” He whispered against her lips when he pulled away, resting his hands against her belly. “I’ve missed you too Micky.” (Y/n) cooed before pecking his lips once quickly. “I’m going by the name Charlie Bronson now.” He informed her as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “But you can still call me Micky.” He winked at her before kissing her temple. “I was gonna anyways.” She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his hips, having dropped her bag when Charlie approached her. “I’ll get that for you.” Charlies father offered as he picked up (Y/n)’s bag. “Oh thank you.” She smiled kindly at the older man. “(Y/n) this is my father and this is my mother, mum dad this is (Y/n).” Charlie introduced the three while resting his hand on (Y/n)’s baby bump. “It’s so good to finally meet you my dear.” Charlies mum smiled brightly at (Y/n) before pulling the girl into a welcoming hug.

----

Later that night Charlie stilled at the task at hand, making (Y/n) whimper softly. “Marry me (Y/n).” His head popped up from between her thighs, peering over her belly he wanted to look her in the eyes. “Micky.” (Y/n) cooed while lightly stroking his cheek with her fingers. “I only want you, forever and always. Of course I’ll marry you.” She smiled before giggling when he quickly crawled up her to kiss her passionately. “But I wasn’t finished.” She whined before softly biting his bottom lip. “Right.” He grinned before going back to work, eating her like a starved man would apple pie.

----

Over the course of the next five years Charlie married (Y/n), and now has three kids with her, their first being their twin boys, then their little girl, whos three years younger than her brothers. Charlie also has made a career for himself, being a professional fighter, England's most ruthless fighter. a title he is very proud of. While (Y/n) is the very attentive, stay at home wife and mother, and she’s happier than she could have ever dreamed.

#Imagine #gif imagine #Extended #bronson (2008)#bronson #bronson imagine #bronson x reader #charles bronson #Charles bronson imagine #Charles bronson x reader #michael peterson #michael peterson imagine #michael peterson x reader #smut #Tom Hardy #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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codegemini · 3 years

Text

Rinse, Repeat - Part I

(( Co-written with @sylaess / @sylaesschasewind . Tagging @argonas / @thefugitivemango for character mention))

~*~*~

The trees swayed gently in the breeze. She smelled moonflowers faintly, and looked around. This again. This grove. So familiar, it was going to drive her mad! She had to know. But she didn’t. The void in her memory was a gaping wound she couldn’t get past.

Sylaess sighed softly, placing her face in her hands gently. There was no scar pitting the left side of her jaw, no exposed tissue. It was oddly gratifying. But it sealed the knowledge that she was not awake. Most likely. Torghast was a very difficult place to traverse when not plagued with traumas. Her grip on reality was fragile at best.

“Va’shal dan duentha.” “...I don’t understand you. Why don’t I understand you?” She fixed the other elf with a stare, trying to puzzle him out but only ending up with a headache. She knew that voice, it brought her comfort. Sadness. Longing. ~*~*~ A sharp, ragged breath drawn in and the sword slammed into the ground beside her head, narrowly missing. Oh, shit! Teeth bared in a voiceless snarl of effort, Sylaess brought her feet up and kicked hard at the empty husk of armor. Saronite screeched across the floor as she slid away a little, clattering back to her feet. The intense throbbing in her skull cinched tighter, trying to force her eyes shut. Breathe. Walk through it. The brittle calm settled over her, a ragged safety blanket as she fell back into the warrior mindset. It was getting nearly impossible to draw upon. Half clenched fist, runes flared along her body. An enormous spike of ice crashed up from the floor beneath the guard, impaling the hollow armor and immobilizing it. The rush of magic fled and she wilted, head falling back a bit. Get your shit together, girl! Find her, get the hell out. You know the drill.

The elf scrabbled up her dropped swords, hunting around for one that had been kicked away. Brought herself into a slow jog up the corridor. She’d made it this far. Again.

The cages hung over the expanse. Were they floating? Chains were taught from the bottom of each descended into unknown depths, but ups and downs were questionable at best. It was not helpful. But she saw her. The ghastly form of Sinafay. Sheathed her swords and made one giant leap from the edge of the stairs, teetering the cage over the ominous expanse. “--Ugh--” The impact was as graceful as a rotten fruit being hurled. Syl looped an arm through the bars. “Let’s... Let’s try this again.” Her voice was ragged and worn out. A gravelly toneless thing. The elf started fiddling with the lock. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Sinafay gasped, eyes wide as she leaned back against the far side bars of the cage, both to keep herself from falling over as it swung and to be as far away from this image of Sylaess as she could.

“WHY do you keep coming back?! Leave me alone!” She growled, “I -know- what this place is! I -know- you are not really her!”

The lock finally came free. Sylaess let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sagging against the cage, her elbow hooked through the only real support she had. “Seriously, the amount of times I’ve had my ass kicked here? The Jailer picks better people to represent him, I assure you.” The elf grimaced, maneuvering herself to the side so she could kick the door open. Hastily healed slashes, unattended gouges and a myriad of other mostly superficial damage that she just didn’t have the energy to mend up again gave her a very... earthy look. Much like a worn out rag.

“If you’re going to torture me, just get it over w—“

Sinafay cut herself off, however, as she felt something different about the Kal’dorei. It wasn’t her, per say, but more of what followed her. Spirits… lost spirits. They clung to her… Sinafay frowned, confused. Spirits wouldn’t cling to the jailor’s forces. If anything, they would be repelled… cowering.

“Why do the lost follow you?” She asked, curiosity overcoming her panicked state.

“...They think I’m a good option to get them out of here, but personally, I’ve now got fresh doubts up to my fucking ears. I come back for you because I promised Argonas I’d keep you safe.” Syl shut her eyes a moment. “I failed him.” And he’ll have every damn right to be disappointed, but let’s survive this first.

Those black eyes seemed to stare off into the expanse of cloudy nothingness a moment, she shook her head. “I’ve got to try to get you out. I...” Sylaess grimaced again, letting the words just fail. Steeled herself up for the next exertion. Leapt, caught the edge with her chest and her legs swung beneath the platform. Vivid swearing strained as she scrabbled her purchase of the edge, plated hands slipping. Saronite screeching on stone. It all made to ramp up her headache that much more. “Fuck sakes!”

A wisp flew wildly about her head. “Would you piss off!” Hanging on by sheer will and gumption, she snarled. “This is the worst joke I’ve ever been the ass of. Almost.” Wheezed the words, resting her face on the cold stone of the platform, once she had enough grip not to be in perilous threat of falling. “Or at the very least, the worst drug trip I’ve ever been on.” She still dangled over the edge precariously. Hooked a foot finally.

Sinafay’s tail twitched and flickered erratically behind her as she didn’t move from her side of the cage. She kept her suspicious gaze on the struggling elf, internally debating on the validity of her words. She wanted to believe this was really her friend, but how could she be certain.

“If you are the real Sylaess, then why do you not remember the very event that brought us together as friends? Do you remember Sigil? Draenor? Tanaan? Do you know anything about me other than the fact that I am Argonas’ mate? Why are your eyes like that? What is wrong with you?!”

Sylaess gave a good heave and hauled herself back on top of the platform gracelessly, laying there a moment. So tired. Empty. Debating on how to answer all of that. Breath in, hold, release. She brought herself up to sit on her feet, tucking back her ragged black hair. Drew a hand over her face wearily. “A long story full of mostly bad decisions.”

“I don’t remember anything because I sold my memories to an Old God. I remember snippets. Fragments. Worse, nothing makes real sense. No, I’m not sure you’re real either. In fact, I’ve not been sure about reality since falling in with N’zoth. Good news is, he’s dead.” The abrupt and naked truth of it stung like a raw scrape in cold air. Somehow, hearing it in her own gravelly ruined voice made it all too much.

“My eyes are like this because the kaldorei--Tyrande--called upon the Night Warrior after the burning of Tel’drassil. I took the blessing with thousands of other kaldorei. This was before the Old God made an appearance.” A bitter smirk twisted her face. “And as for what’s wrong with me,” Her gaze finally swept over to Sinafay as she rose. “I don’t think an eternity is enough to cover that one.” She spread her hands slightly, as if surrendering. The silent ‘what do you think now?’ so plainly evident.

Sinafay just… stared, head slowly tilting to the side as it often did when she was struggling to understand something. An awkward silence stretched on between them as she tried to make some sort of sense of everything Sylaess had said, before finally speaking up.

“Teldrassil… burned? An Old God? Why would—“

No, she didn’t have to ask about the Old God deal, she’d made similar mistakes in the past. At least that explained the missing memories.

“I… remember a large influx of souls arriving… a lot of them ended up in this tower…”

She shook her head. There was nothing to be done about that. This was her first time in Torghast, and she didn’t know how to get around at all.

“My apologies, Sylaess. When we -do- manage to finally escape this place, and I manage to return to Azeroth, I will do all that I can to help get your memories back.”

She looked at the distance between the cage and platform.worried her bottom lip.

“So I take it that, in true Sylaess fashion, you have no idea where we are or how to escape.

“We’re in a place called Torghast. It’s the worst place in the Shadowlands you could possibly be. Of course.” The elf smiled a bit, superficially. A little refreshed that she wasn’t under extreme scrutiny. Something she shouldn’t have really feared with Sinafay. She knew that. Somehow. “The halls keep on forever it seems. There’s a lot of levels down, the best we can do is keep trying.” She looked up at the swirling mass of clouds. At least she thought they were clouds. “This tower is the mirror of Icecrown citadel, so to speak. So. As we can’t get up and through to Icecrown, we’ve got to get back to whatever the hell is ground level. There has to be a door.”

“Shall we?”

~*~*~

#{Warcraft Verse} → “Either it brings tears to their eyes”#{Story Logs} → “The pleasance of our fairytale”#{Sylaess} → “You’re thinking about something and it makes you forget to talk”

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sweetchup · 3 years

Text

The Hard Path

Type: Oc Story request

Word Count: 4K words

Warnings: Past abuse and PTSD

Author Note: I know I’ve been gone for a while. Not really any excuse except school has been beating me up. I hope @lelewright1234 likes her OC request.

“Oh, Great Gods from above. The ones that protect us and our families every day…”

Leah kicks the man to her right and attempts to escape. Though it was proven to be futile as she was preceded to be thrown back into the harsh muddy ground.

“Please accept this child as a worthy sacrifice…”

“No, let me go! Stop!” She shouts as the men forcibly drag her up the wet stone staircase to the altar, “Please anyone! Help me!”

Leah’s pleas and cries fall on deaf ears. She couldn’t tell if it was the sound of the downpouring rain drowning her out or if the citizens chose to ignore her. Though, she soon believed it was the later as the citizens from her village began chanting in unison with the great priest.

“Wang-go, Monster of destruction and creation. Please accept this child as your sacrifice and new holder.”

The great priest holds up a ruby dagger he took from his pocket. As he showed it off to the crowd, they roared with excitement. Though as soon as he lifts up his palm they fall into a deadly silence. Taking one last look at Leah, he swings the dagger above his head before plunging it into—

“Leah!”

Leah is startled awake and pants heavily. She realized she wasn’t there. She wasn’t back at her village.

“G-Gon.” The curly haired girl chokes out. Gon gives her a concerned look as he proceeds to sit down next to her. Leah tries to say something else in response but stops short of answering when a cold feeling hits her clammy forehead. Very startled, she looks up to see Killua on the other side of her pressing a cold water bottle to her forehead.

“What are you doing startling us like that, idiot?” Killua says jokingly. Though his face didn’t reflect that as he looked at her serious and slightly concerned.

“Startled you?” Leah slowly repeats mumbling. Using a napkin from the dinner they had a while ago, she attempts to wipe some of the cold clammy sweat from her forehead. Ever so slowly she seemed to be coming back to reality. She wasn’t back in her wicked village. No, she was on a blimp with Killua and Gon going to York New City. She wasn’t some sort of kid anymore, she was a hunter learning Nen.

“Yeah, you kind of started to fight in your sleep while mumbling something and all of a sudden a gigantic storm started to form.” Gon explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry about that.” Leah apologies, though it comes out almost robotically. Unconsciously, she traces her chest over where her heart was, the whole reason she got chosen for her “gift”. Killua and Gon look at each other concerned before Killua lets out a soft sigh. Leah feels Killua ruffle her puffy hair making her look at him.

“Don’t apologize idiot. It’s not your fault you have some ancient disaster god or whatever in you.”

“I know you are right Killua. But still—“

“If you’re thinking of saying something about how you should have been able to control your powers better, don’t. Remember Gon and I are Hunters. Leah, we aren’t going to go down that easily.”

“Yeah!” Gon shouts, finally back in an enthusiastic mood. “Plus you’re our friend Leah. I don’t think you would ever hurt us.”

Killua and Leah blink together before Leah breaks let’s out a small giggle and Killua lets out a sigh.

“W-what? What did I say?”

“I swear you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“Hey! No I’m not!”

“Yes you are! After you went and fought Hisoka, you might actually be counted as a mega idiot.”

“I—“

“Killua. Gon.” Leah interrupts, grabbing the two’s attention. Giving them both a warm smile, she ever so gently says. “Thank you. Thank you very much”

Both burst out into a bright red blush with Gon letting out a cheeky laugh and Killua mumbling something unheard under his breath.

The cute moment is disturbed however, as all of a sudden a crackling sound comes over the intercom and the pilot's voice is heard throughout the blimp.

“Thank you for joining Blimps-RS for this trip. In about 15 minutes we will be landing in York New City. Please remain seated and remember to fly safe with Blim—“

“Hey guys look at this!” Leah looks over to Gon’s loud call and her eyes widen. Her and Killua scramble over to the window. Looking down the three wowed at the great lights of the city. Leah had never ever seen a city so gorgeous before. She had only heard in books at how magical cities were but she had never imagined, nor dreamed such a sight as this one.

Ever so slightly Leah smiles to herself. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ok so you remember what to do right?” Killua says for what felt like the 108th time in a row. Leah lets out an exaggerated sigh as she repeats what she had been saying for the last 20 minutes.

“I have to disappear for 2 hours around town while you guys help Kurapika with the phantom troupe. If I get into any trouble make sure to call Leorio. I also will make sure I don’t converse with any strange people because they will only have bad intentions for me.” Leah repeats, sassily imitating Killua’s voice at the end.

“Killua. I think Leah gets it. Let’s go.” Kurapika says, dragging Killua out of the restaurant.

“You better stay out of trouble, you hear me!” Killua shouts one more time before he disappears out of sight. Leah sticks her tongue out towards him in response before shaking her head. Here she was thinking this trip to get some video games would be fun but all she has been doing is being forced to hide from these “phantom troupe” people while the others go on a manhunt to try and kill them. She didn’t even have a moment to spare to check if there were any special books up for auction.

As she was grumbling to herself in misery about her bad luck, she feels a hand on her shoulder. Looking up she sees that Leorio hasn’t left with the others yet. Watching closely, she sees him reach into his pocket and take out some cash.

“Hey Leah. I know things haven’t been great for you, having to hide for most of the time on this trip. Why don’t you go buy something nice on this trip? Maybe a souvenir or something?”

Leah hesitantly grabs the money from him, “Are you sure? You don’t have to give this to me. I have a hunter license just like you and can use some of that money.”

“True but think of this cash as my thank you for being the only sane person on this trip.” Leorio says, slightly grumbling in self misery at the end.

“Okay then. But don’t think of asking for anything back later. I’m not giving you a single cent~” Leah teases out to the tall man. Leorio only shakes his head before leaving the restaurant to catch up with the others.

“Bye leorio. Stay safe!” Leah shouts out before quickly turning back to the cash in her hand. Counting it, she realizes she has more than enough to get a new needed book. Now just the question was where could she find one. Letting the thought sink in, she leaves the restaurant and begins to walk around the streets of York New.

She knew any new book would solve her thirst of knowledge, but it would be much more convenient if she found one about her powers. The books explaining her village gods and the chosen ones to hold them are few and far to find. Especially hers,.... Wang-go.

Wang-go, The god of destruction and Creation. Originally locked away by his brothers and sisters who feared him. He was locked up for centuries on end until eventually the chains that kept him trapped down began to slowly snap and break. Fearing for the worse, the people of her village offered the gods a vessel to lock him in. A woman with a type of heart defect, a husk empty heart. Now, per tradition, anyone who is born with a husk heart bears the burden of having Wang-go sealed away in them.

Herself was the most recent holder with the last being almost 6 generations ago. This makes the information Leah seeks few and far between. However,...

Sneakily smiling to herself. Leah searches through the auction menu. In no ways is she giving up. She will be able to master her powers and not just a little bit, no, she will figure out a way to perfect them.

“There you are..” Leah eyes a specific item on the auction menu. Zaviers’ ancient artifacts and wonders. On the menu, the store had just auctioned off a scroll yesterday that was only just 30 kilometers away from her village. So there is a high enough chance that the store had a book or artifact about her village gods.

Now all she need is to get there and search those shelves.

“Damn it…” Leah sighs, slightly frustrated. An hour had gone by being in this store and there was still nothing about her gods. “All I need is one book about Wang-go, just one book.”

“Wang-go huh~?”

Leah freezes up as someone blows on the shell of her ear. The next thing Leah knows, she is half away across the room and feeling slightly nauseous. She thanked her stars for practicing her teleportation power recently.

“Oh~ how exciting. You never do fail to amaze me, don’t you, Lele?”

“Hisoka…” Leah mumbles angrily under her breath. This wasn’t good, she remembered Gon and Killua mentioning to her that they found out he’s part of the troupe. Plus after seeing him fighting in the arena against Gon, she doubts she can stand a chance against his Bungee gum. Shifting her feet slightly, she gets into a readied stance, ready to bolt out of there when she has a chance.

“Now, now, I’m not looking to fight you. I’m actually here to ask for your help.”

“Help? Not a chance. Give me one good reason I should help someone like you.”

Hisoka let’s out a chuckle as he pulls a clear bag out from behind his back. He twirled them around with his bungee gum as he waits for Leah’s response.

“Wait a minute…T-those are…”

“Wang-go scrolls? Why yes they are, Lele.”

“How in the world did you get your grubby han—“

“Now, now~ I’m on a tight schedule. How about we chit chat more about this…” Hisoka takes the bag back into his hand before waving it around. Making it disappear in a cloud of smoke like magic, “... later~.”

Leah pauses for a moment, taking in her options before sighing. “Fine. But, I swear to god if any of this plan has to do with hurting any of my friends I’m out, you hear me?”

“Crystal~”

“Okay… so I know I agreed to help. But, why the heck is Illumi here as well?” Leah groans, scooching more into the corner of the backseat of the car. Hisoka lets out a small chuckle from the passenger seat but he chooses not to respond and continues to toy with his cards.

“Chrollo paid me some money for a Job and I need to pick up the rest in person.” Illumi says, his bug like eyes trained on the road ahead. Does this man just not blink?

Leah just decided the best option would be to ignore Illumi’s presence for now. Looking out the car window, she decides to somehow entertain herself by watching the little water droplets racing down the transparent surface. It was strange, the rain in New York. Mostly due to the fact that the city bordered a Desert.

Letting out a sigh, Leah thinks of the possible scenarios as to why Hisoka would need her. Well, she actually didn’t exactly need to guess why, she knew that he needed her for her powers. It was actually more for what. She just— Suddenly she feels her phone go off in her pocket.

Hesitantly, she sneaks a glance at the two men sitting in the front and sees them occupied in a conversation. Leah, determining it was safe enough, unlocks her phone. She bites her lip as she opens the missed messages from Killua.

From: Killua Hey where are you? The plan fell through.

From: Killua Get back here as soon as possible.

Leah blinks and knits her brows in confusion. What is Killua talking about? They planned to track the base to tail a specific member. How did that fall through?

Sent: Leah

What do you mean it fell through?

Leah’s blood ran cold as she read the next message.

From: Killua

The troope has already left York New. Kurapika also got a message from Hisoka saying that their partnership is over with.

Sent: Leah

Killua. Hisoka hasn’t left, I’m with him right now.

Before Leah could see what Killua could send back, a card splits the screen in half. Flinching she drops the phone on the car floor, watching it glitch and fizz out.

“Now. Now, Lele~. Let's pay attention to the situation at hand shall we.” Hisoka tells the young girl with a smile. Leah lets out a shaky breath and decides the best option would be to not test her luck for now. Fighting Hisoka right now would be a bad option especially with Illumi here as well to back him up if need be. Watching carefully, she observes as they drive through the maze-like outskirts of the city. After a couple of turns, they come to a stop in front of a train station.

Looking around confused, Leah mutters out “Why are we here?”

Illumi and Hisoka both ignore her again as they get out of the car. Hisoka comes around to the back doors to let her out.

“Hisoka! I’m serious. Tell me why we are here?”

Hisoka stares at Leah as she glares back at him. Somehow seeming to contemplate his answer, he finally says. “You're a gift.”

“Excuse me?” Leah stutters out as Hisoka grabs onto her wrist, pulling her out of the car. Hisoka begins to explain as he forces her to walk with them into the station.

“You’re a smart girl aren’t you? I’m sure you can understand this quite well. The boss has found out that I’ve had some connection with the chain user. So I’ve lost some… trust… with him per say.”

Illumi signals to Hisoka to go through a specific doorway, causing the three of you to enter an empty hallway with hardly any people. Even with the lack of people, Hisoka doesn’t relax his grip against Leah’s wrist as they continue to walk.

“I thought I was at a loss you see. I had lost the boss’ trust and lost a chance in getting so close to fighting him. But then I remember, your cute little face—“

“Don’t call me cute you narsistik clown.” Leah snaps back as the three of them return to a crowded area. Though after a quick look around, Leah realizes they are back outside yet this time on steel platforms with many trains coming to and from.

“Some just don’t know how to take a compliment.” Hisoka laughs unbothered by the girl’s offhand insult. He just continued on with his task of yanking Leah onto one of the train cars. “It’s just I remembered the Boss being so disappointed when he couldn’t find the chosen ones from the tribal areas of Aruni. Thankfully, I realized quickly that since I knew you are one of those chosen ones, the boss will surely find you interesting and in return, hopefully forgive me.”

Catching Leah off guard, Hisoka suddenly harshly pushes her into one of the private train cars before closing the door.

“Hey Hisoka!” Leah yells, stumbling up rather quickly from being thrown on the ground and tugs at the door handle. Though she curses under her breath as soon as she finds out it is locked shut, “Open this up righ—“

“A Child?”

A shiver goes up Leah’s spine as she hears a male’s voice from behind her. In a flash, maybe due to her instincts or maybe her training, she leaps to the other end of the cabin. With a hammering heartbeat, she observes the black haired male in the same room as her. The train car was not that large, so it gave her a rather good glimpse at him. Some being the cross-like tattoo on his forehead or the crystal blue earrings poking out from the tufts of his hair.

“Oh my. How interesting.” The man seemed to marvel at something and take a step closer. “What sort of power is going on with your hands?”

Quickly, Leah takes a short glance around and gasps as she sees her hands glowing and sparkling. She wanted to practically bang her head on the wall for making a stupid mistake as to activate her powers.

“Oh I see.” Leah takes a step back from the man as he continues to approach, “That’s not a Nen ability is it? I guess Hisoka wasn’t bluffing this time around.”

Ever so suddenly, the man pauses his approaching movements and instead takes a seat at one of the booth chairs. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he unnervingly smiles and says “Please, take a seat.”

Leah breath and heart stutters in unison. There was nothing friendly about that man's smile. It was like staring at the teeth of a poisonous viper, ready to sink its teeth in and go for the kill. Taking a gulp to hopefully moisten her dry throat, she knows she has to force herself to move. That man was not asking her to take a seat, it was an order. Cautiously she makes her way and sits down from across the man.

A thick silence enters the room as the man pours himself and Leah some tea. He takes a light sip of his tea but Leah doesn’t copy his movements. She can only stare at the hot dark black water in front of her. Even with her throat as dry as sand, she doesn’t attempt to drink it.

The man opens his mouth to speak but a loud whistle cuts him off. The main lights of the cabin suddenly shut off and the train begins to slow chug forward, now leaving the station. Leah turns to look frantic out the window.

“I need to go.” She breathes out, her heart beating faster the further they get away from the train station.

“Pardon?”

“My friends. They are still in York New City. I can’t—“

The man lets out a chuckle causing Leah to pause. Crap, what was she thinking. She can’t let her emotions get carried away. This isn’t some normal person she is conversing with, it’s the leader of the phantom troupe. A person with a class A bounty on his head.

The man takes another sip of his tea, finishing it off, before looking back at Leah. “I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer them if you can.”

Leah slowly nods her head. She knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“First, What’s your name?”

“Leah.” Her voice cracks a little as she speaks causing an uncomfortable feeling in her throat. In order to sort the discomfort, she grabs her cup of tea and takes a sip. Surprisingly, the man waits patiently before asking another question.

“What’s your god?”

Hesitant, she decides to answer it simply and vaguely. “Wang-go”

“Ah, The God of destruction and creation. Though most considered him to be a Monster due to him being predicted to look as a ugly mix of boar, man and crane.”

“How do you know that?” Leah speaks out. Such information was only known by city elders and holders such as herself. The man ponders for a little, taking a quick glance at the desert scenery that has come to view now that they have left the city, before getting up and grabbing something. Coming back, he places the bag down and takes out a scroll.

“Though I can’t read your native language, I had a native translate bits and pieces of it to me a long time ago.” He seemed to skip over the obvious part of slaughter some to get the scrolls, but Leah decided to not press into that topic.

“Do you know what’s in these scrolls, Leah?” Leah shivers. The way her name rolled off his tongue like they were old time friends was extremely disturbing to her.

“I’d have to read them. I was never allowed to look through them.”

“I see. Then, who taught you your powers? I heard they had to be trained and practiced over many years to use on command.”

“Well, I do have a book that I got a while ago…” Leah pauses for a second. She was in a tough spot. If she revealed that she hasn’t mastered her powers, she could be considered useless and killed. Though, she could also be let go instead. Was it a good idea to take that risk though…

“I see, so you're not well versed in your abilities yet.” Leah freezes. This was going horribly for her right now. She in no way was stupid or trying to make it obvious in her hesitation, it was just this man always seemed to somehow be one step ahead of her.

Being extremely on guard, Leah watches as the man leans his hand over to her. He strangely extends his pinky out to her. She gives him a confused look as a sudden lightning strike flashes on both of them.

“How about we make a deal, Leah.”

“A deal…?”

“I will allow you to use all of the scrolls and books I have to help you gain your powers.” The man pauses for a second and a serious look comes onto his face, “However, in exchange you will become the troope’s temporarily new number 11 and I will personally be in charge of observing your progress.”

Knowing she has no choice, Leah reaches over to agree but stops short when he speaks up again.

“I want your honest commitment. Not to force this on you.”

“Why? Won’t you just kill me if I don’t agree?”

The man hums in agreement, “Usually I would but in this case it would be such a waste to kill you. As well as the fact that it would be an honest nuisance if you agreed and tried to escape every chance you got. So it would be beneficial if you agreed willingly.”

Leah thinks for a moment. She knew the right choice was to go back with Gon and Killua as well as the rest. It was so obvious, they were her friends. Yet,... why couldn’t she just do so.

“Leah! Stay here! Killua and I can take care of this.”

“Idiot. You have to be careful, you aren’t as strong as us yet.”

“Don’t worry Leah. I’ll make sure to retrieve those idiots, just stay here and read a book.”

“Trust me, Leah. I don’t want you to come. You aren’t fast enough yet to go against the troope. You’ll just end up being an easy target.”

Oh… she knew why. She was just tired of being left behind again and again. She wanted to prove she was just as strong as her friends. She wanted to join them on their adventures as well.

Gon…. Killua….Leorio. And Kurapika. I’m sorry but… I can't continue to be left behind anymore.

“I-I. I accept.” Leah says, hesitatingly connecting her pinky with his. She shivers at his strangly cold hands touching hers. Even more strangely, like out of a movie or book, thunder and lightning crashes throughout the sky in that moment

“Excellent. I realized I haven’t formally introduced myself. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer but you can just call me boss.”

Standing up from his seat, he gestures for Leah to get up as well which she does as well. Lightly, Chrollo places a hand on her shoulder and begins to lead her out of the private train car. “I say we go introduce you to the other members.”

“Of course…

...Boss.”

#chrollo lucilfer #gon freecss #phantom troupe #Killua zoldyck #gon #killua #Chrollo #hunter x hunter #hxh #oneshot #oc

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

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Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 7

Once more, I arrive, with Midnight Striga in tow!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Boyd was utterly bored. Groaning, he slung his knife, Radical Chop, over his shoulder, lightly kicking the twitching corpse next to him, one of Reticulus’ leftovers. Those were never fun to deal with, ‘cause they were already dead! What was the point of a killer guarding a corpse, instead of, you know, killing? Eh, maybe he could practice his mutilations, he had been getting a little rusty in that regard. Humming to himself, he slung the ragged body beneath his feet into an upright position; a girl from the looks of it, brown hair styled into three rings on the top of her head, her left eye gouged out, and missing her tongue. Glancing down he saw that her heart and stomach had been extracted. By his estimate, he’d say she was about 12, verging on 13. Ah man, he could’ve had such fun with her!

Sighing, he twirled his knife before pointing the tip towards her. The knife lengthened, stretched, and bent, contouring around the edges of her face, slowly and cleanly skinning off the layer of tissue. If only that eye wasn’t missing, then he could’ve added it to his collection! Ah well, better luck next time. While he was seemingly distracted, one of the nearby Witches decided to make a break for it, a boy whose hair covered his eyes and possessed rather bat-like ears. Without even glancing his way, Boyd’s knife shot out like a bullet, cleanly slicing through his throat in an instant. He didn’t even have a chance to scream, how boring!

“Stupid Witches, can’t even die properly.” He grumbles, flicking the boy’s blood off of his precious blade. “Stupid Reticulus, never leaving any good corpses to slice up.” He briefly wonders again as to why, exactly, he was being stuck with this stupid job. He was one of the Squadron’s best killers, so why were his talents being squandered? He mulled it over in his head, knife idly slicing through the girl’s corpse, when a creak drew his gaze forward. As the reason finally clicked, he deadpanned. He was being used as bait, and as a test; great.

Three kids stood in front of him, staring at him like he was some kind of fucking monster; to be fair, he was one, no doubt about that, but it was always so annoying when people looked at him like that. He briefly contemplated trying to figure out which one Reticulus wanted to test, but decided it would be more fun to just kill the little shits. Not like they really mattered anyway. The chunky girl with the glasses started doing that stupid circle thing they did to cast spells, can’t have that. His knife shot out, smoothly slicing through her wrist and across her face, stabbing through her eyes into the brain.

Before the other two could do more than widen their eyes, he struck again. His blade ripped through the neck of the Mint-headed girl, and wasn’t that a color, sending her head rolling. Before the smaller boy could even scream, the knife slammed through his skull, entering through one ear, and exiting out the other. Scowling, he called Radical Chop back to him. No trouble at all, not even worth the effort of being clean. He sighed, only for a familiar, sharp pain to rush through his body; he had been stabbed. Glancing down, he was both surprised and not to see a dagger driven into his gut, the angle allowing for it to be dragged into his other vital organs easily. He spoke up, perfectly calm in the face of his death. “You can drop the invisibility now.”

As the air next to him rippled and faded, he was pleasantly surprised to see another kid, her face carefully blank save the familiar rage in her eyes, the kind he saw in all the kids who saw him kill their friends. He smirked. “Gotta say, pretty cold of you to throw your friends into the grinder like that.”

The girl snorted, calling over her shoulder. “Gus! Drop the illusion.”

“Got it!” A young voice called out, the corpses of the kids fading along with the blood coating his precious blade, the kids from before shimmering into view, ready to pounce if things turned dicy for the kid stabbing him at the moment.

Boyd snorted. He had underestimated them. He gave the girl who had effectively killed him a smirk. “So, you’re the little rat Retic wants to test, eh?” He laughed at her furious expression. “If you’re looking for him, he should be up ahead, going over the latest batch of bodies. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Before they could blink, he whipped his blade, his beautiful Radical Chop, up to his head, driving it through his own skull.

Gus gagged, while Amity and Willow looked on stoically. It was certainly an improvement over Gus actively heaving and the girls shouting. It was to be expected, as this was the fifteenth kill by this point, though they had only gone for the stealth option when they saw how quickly he had killed that Witch trying to get past him.

Amity glanced down at the Witch the man had killed. She recognized him. “Hey, I think I know this one.”

Luz walked over, glancing down at the bat-eared boy, curious. “Really? Who is he?”

Amity shrugged. “I honestly don’t know him personally, but Skara was interested in him a little.” She sighed, knowing that she’d have to deliver the news to her friend. “I really hope she takes this well.” She glanced up at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, seeing Willow giving her a comforting, if hesitant smile, which she returned.

Luz sighed. “Let’s go, we’ve still got to take down Retic if we want this to end.” The others nodded. Bracing themselves, they moved, ready for the fight to come, or so they thought.

Eda moved to Lily’s side, shaking her roughly. “Come on Sis, we don’t have time for this!” She cried, frantically gesturing to the crowd under attack. She bit her lip, tilting Lily’s head up. “Listen, Sis, I know we usually don’t see eye to eye, but if you can’t get out of your head, that crowd is going to die.” She thought she saw a flicker of light in her eyes. “You always said you wanted to be in Bonehead’s Coven to help people, well now’s your chance to prove it! Those people up there? They came here to see you, because they believe in you! Are you really going to let them down!?” She got down on her knees, pleading. “Sis, I need your help, as painful and ridiculous as it sounds, it’s the truth! Please!” She glanced back at Rudolph, who had paused, enjoying the show. The bastard was enjoying watching her beg for her sister’s help.

Rudolph snickered, and laughed. “It truly is amusing to see! Earlier, I had lamented your decision to keep the wretched thing alive, but I see now that I was wrong!!” He cackled, relishing the look of enraged confusion on Eda’s face, even as the crowd desperately fought to survive.

“What in hell are you talking about, you psycho!!” Eda growled, bracing herself to defend if necessary.

Rudolph gave her an ugly smirk, oozing amusement. “Simple. You may not have killed her body, but you certainly killed her spirit! She’s lost the will to live, I’d say!” He cackled, soaking in the look of dawning horror on Eda’s face, the soul-crushing realization of what her display had done, even if she couldn’t comprehend how.

“No.” Eda breathed out, slowly walking away from Lily. “That wouldn’t happen, not with her! She’s too strong for that to happen!”

“Is she?” Rudolph mused, genuinely curious. “Everything we’ve gathered has pointed to a woman with a rather fragile ego; seeing her baby sister showing her up once again must’ve been quite the shock.” He was amused at Eda’s denial; for all she claimed to be the strongest on the Isles, a statement not totally devoid of fact, she seemed to be a tad oblivious to the fortitude of those around her.

“Gathered…” Eda muttered, her eyes widening. “You’ve been spying on her!?”

“Oh her, the schools, the government, you, everyone really. We carefully staked this out ever since we arrived.” He placed his hands on his hips, looking pleased with himself. “I must say, we certainly displayed an impressive amount of restraint, building all of this up.” He shrugged. “Normally, we just come and kill everything and everyone we come across. It was quite the learning experience!”

“You…” Eda growled, pure hate coloring her voice. “Just who do you think you are!?”

“Why, my dear, I think I’m the one leading the attack on your people, at the moment at least.” Rudolph cheekily replied. “After all…

“... We are the ones who hold the power in this situation.”

Mattholomule silently cried behind a stand, the crazed laughter of the maniac out front still ringing in his ears. He had just seen a woman torn limb from limb by flying chains, her organs and blood splattered all about. Bria sat next to him, biting her lip, while Gavin and Angmar played Rock-Paper-Scissors to figure out what to do. That choice was taken from them, however, when a chain yanked Bria out of hiding, prompting the three to scream in fear.

“It is simply the way of the world, after all. The powerful thrive, the weak die. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Emira held in a curse, while Edric hyperventilated next to her. Two squads of the invaders had just finished corralling a group of kids into a corner. She closed her eyes, trying to tune out the screams, Edric silently crying next to her, as the Mages ripped the children apart in a hail of magic. Glaring daggers at the murderers, Emira paused, a plan coming to her. Whispering to Edric, who nodded firmly in agreement, the two slunk into the shadows.

“Why, it is only natural for those with power, namely us, to do with it as we- HURK!”

Reticulus loomed over a potential donor, their limbs spread by his veins, dislocated from his body and acting as ropes to bind and restrain his target. He licked his lips. It wouldn’t do for the fools to potentially damage his prize with unnecessary struggling, now would it? Just as he reeled back to rip his prizes from the worthless husk before him, his body registered the sensation of a blade digging into his arm.

“Just shut your fucking mouth.” Eda warned, the butt of her staff slammed into the sadist’s gut. Seeing his hands take on that icy glow, she raised her leg, slamming him back with a kick to the chest. “You don’t know anything about the people of the Isles!” She shouted, her eyes spotting Bump summoning some Abominations in the stands, directing them at Rudolph’s troops.

“You think just because you’ve got a lot of power, you get to throw it around, and we’ll just take it?” She countered his frost with a fireball, landing a cracking blow across his jaw. When Rudolph slammed his hands against the ground, summoning an encroaching sheet of frost, she ripped it away with a shockwave of magical force.

“Your resistance to the inevitable is growing irksome!” He yelled, forming a fang of ice around his hand, lashing out at Eda. She blocked his blow with her staff, grunting as he forced her back. Spines of ice formed along his arms, stabbing towards Eda. “Your people are a pack of sheep, blindly following the words of a false prophet in their inane desire for safety!!” He encased her wrists in ice, preventing her from casting, before slamming his forehead into her eyes. “You may well be the strongest on the Isles, but that title is as hollow as their leader’s words!” He slashed his blades at Eda’s sides, a cry of pain ripping from her throat. Unbeknownst to either combatants, Lilith twitched at Eda’s cries.

“I…! Have stood on my own two feet… my entire life!” Eda choked out, hands grabbing at the claws currently pinning her in place.

“I do what I want to do, nothing more… nothing less…!”

Bria screamed, feeling the skin of her arms and legs stretching from the chains pulling her in either direction. The pain was like nothing she had felt before. Angmar and Gavin were being pinned in place, metal blades pushing into their hands to keep them from casting. She was… she was going to die here. Tears came to her eyes at the thought.

The maniac tormenting her gave a demented giggle, gesturing for the chains to rip her apart, once and for all.

“Stay away from Bria!” A young voice shouted. The agent turned in shock, his casting forgotten, as a fist as large as his torso careened towards him, pulping his skull. Standing defiantly, was Matty, tears of rage in his eyes.

“But for all that I hate Bonehead… I love the Isles… and the people who call it home…!”

With the plan prepped and ready to go, Emira glanced towards Edric. Grimly, she nodded, with him flashing a thumbs up in response. In perfect sync, the two yanked on the cords they had set up, releasing a colossal explosion of smoke into the groups of killers. Working in concert, the twins cast a spell onto the two groups. When their vision cleared, both groups saw the other as a squad of Coven Guards. Reacting to the apparent enemy, the two sets of invaders unleashed their magic upon each other, and in a matter of moments, all were dead. The twins dropped the spell, clutching each other in relief.

“So if you think I’m just going to stand back… and let you kill people because you feel like it… then you’re even crazier than you look!!”

With a scream of rage, Luz drove her blades into Reticulus’ eyes, while Willow used her vines to rip free the near-victim, Amity conjuring up her Abomination to cushion the fall, Gus using his Illusions to guide the way to the exit. Using his broad back as leverage, Luz pushed herself off of his body, landing in a crouch near the others, eyes glaring daggers at the hulking monster before them.

Rudolph scoffed, his humor long gone. “And did you forget that my magical frost builds up and hampers you further the more of it you are exposed to? Hmm?” He accused, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Nope!” Eda gamely replied. “I just decided I hated the look of you more than I was afraid of dying against you.” Her cheeky grin turned daring, eyes bright with challenge. “Even if I die, I’ll have died fighting for my freedom. Give me your best shot, you two-bit bully.”

With a roar of rage, Rudolph reared back his arm, fully intending to skewer the arrogant Witch who dared to challenge his might! His eyes widened in surprise, however, when his attack clashed against a raised staff, brilliant aquamarine eyes glaring at him.

“Stay. Away. From my sister.” Lilith hissed.

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ktellmeastory · 4 years

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They Call It Pretend-Adam Sackler

Hey, hopefully you receive this one! So as I was browsing I saw some smut prompts that if you wish to indulge with some Sackler! “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” and “Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?”

Okay so this gif has nothing to do with this story, but as it’s my first ever reader insert, and its just me being filthy about my love for one Adam Sackler. Enjoy!

Warning: Smut (public sex), foul language, NSFW

You can’t help but laugh as you see Adam stumble out from his bedroom, his hair an absolute mess. You had heard him come in later than usual last night, but you of all people understand the time commitment theatre really is. Currently, you were hired to work backstage on the show Adam was staring in, as the head of wardrobe, and you had come home right after you had finished your nightly tasks. You look over at the clock and bite your lip. It’s almost 4:30 and you and Adam are due at the theatre at 5. “You may want to hit the shower and grab something to eat Sackler,” you say as you turn the music coming from your phone down.

“Try to stay quiet for me…Can you do that?” Adam says holding his hand out towards you, almost as if he’s going to put his rather large hand over your mouth. And he has done that before, multiple times in fact. It’s one of his favorite ways to shut you up when you two argue in the apartment he took from Hannah when she left the city. You nod slowly, a bemused grin taking over your features as he stumbles towards the bathroom, your attention going back to the few dishes left. “Kid,” he calls and you look up into his warm brown eyes that are slowly starting to wake up. “Will you pour me some cereal?” You nod again and he disappears behind the bathroom door.

“Let’s go kid,” Adam says holding the front door of the space open for you. “You’re going to make me late” he teases as he throws his arm over your shoulder as you catch up with him and his stupid long legs. You want to slap him, and probably would have if your boss hadn’t walked up at that exact moment.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says to you. “Both of you actually…Masie isn’t going to make it today and we need you to step in. You’re the only one that will fit the costume”

“And she’s always going over the lines with me…What happen to Masie?” Adam asked, ignoring the look of almost panic flashing over your features. Yes, you’re an actress. Yes, you’ve been studying the lines with him. But you were so not prepared for this to be your day.

“She got arrested” Maggie said as her and Adam continued into the space, your head so far gone it takes you a moment for your legs to catch up.

“Again?” Adam asked with a laugh. “What a crazy fucking bitch…what did she do this time?” he asks throwing his bag onto the floor by the coffee maker.

“Some chain herself to a tree shit…the cop that got her was that one she fucked on the cop car,”

“Oh fuck…I remember that pig,” Adam said with another loud laugh as Maggie walks away and he looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “You doing okay kid?” You nod slowly, but you’re not sure you believe it and from the way his eyes shift you know he doesn’t for sure. “Hey…” he said, dipping down to get to your eye level. “You don’t have to do this…we can call the whole fucker and just go back to the apartment…I’ll put my hand down your pants…” You laugh and his eyes light up in a smile. “Yea I’ll put my hand down your pants and play with your clit” You slap his chest with a shake of your head and a small smile.

“Thank you…” you murmur looking up at him. “I guess I’m just nervous to get thrown to the wolves” Adam grins at you and throws his head back, howling loudly and no everyone is looking at you two. You throw your hand over his lips, pulling it back and rubbing it on his shirt after he licks a large stripe up your palm. “Eww…You’re the worst” He grabs you by the shoulders, turning you and marching you towards the dressing rooms.

“You love me and you know it, so go get dressed” he says slapping your ass before ducking into his own dressing room.

All things considered, it isn’t going as bad as it could be. Of course, this is New York theatre and the whole piece, which is set in multiple rooms, meant to be a look in at the world as it really goes. People can come from room to room as they see fit and you run the scenes on a loop until you get the signal to move to the next. Everyone has been great to you, understanding that you’re not perfect, that you’ve jumped into something you weren’t 100% sure what you’re doing. But everyone has been great about picking up your slack. It’s time however to meet Adam for your next scene in the ‘bedroom’.

When you walk in, your mouth goes slightly dry. Adam’s already there, pulling his shirt over his head. Somehow you had put it out of your mind that you were about to pretend to fuck Adam in front of a room full of strangers. You and Adam had been roommates now for just over a year and for the most part you had kept the lines tightly defined. For the most part. But after he and Jessa had broken up, and you were on a dry spell you had maybe possibly found yourself with his head in between your legs, and had almost probably fucked him against the fridge. For the most part, Adam was just your best friend, but every once and a while his dick needed wetting and you loved the feeling of being split in two by him. You give him a small smile, not sure if that is you or your character before you slip into the connected bathroom, stripping out of your costume and into the small teddy and robe. Slipping out, you start your lines. “Tell me about your day,” you say stepping over to the vanity and taking seat. When you look up into the mirror, all you can see is Adam’s face, and that look in his eyes is clearly his and not his characters. You clear your throat, look down and start fiddling with the jar of lotion on the table. “Tell me about your day” you repeat, your cheeks burning red as you chance another look up at him.

“It was the usual day��” He said, licking his lips as he worked to get himself back to the script. “I talked to Hank about the raise…so we can try to have the baby…” he walked around the room behind you as you opened the lotion and got some onto your hands, beginning to rub it into your arms. “I want to try to have a baby…” he said, running his hands down your arms, turning you on the seat so you’re facing him. You looked up at him, biting your bottom lip. “I want to make a baby with you,” he pulls your arm up, kissing your wrist before trailing your fingers down and pressing them under his boxers and onto his already hard cock. You gasped, your eyes going wide. “You gonna make a baby with me?” he asked, lust evident in the husk of his voice. You squeak out a yes, pulling your hand from his considerable length, like seriously why is it always such a shock to you how big he really is? He trailed his hand down to your elbow and used it to pull you up. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cum”

“Adam,” you whispered at him. He was so not following the script anymore and you wouldn’t put it past him to actually…and there it was…Adam pushed you against the wall, his hips pressing your hips tightly to the wall. His lips skimmed your neck and up to your ear.

“Don’t make me take you home and punish you…We’re supposed to be fucking, so let’s do this right” he whispered in your ear before taking your earlobe into his teeth. You shivered in his arms and gasped as he pulled back to look you in the eye. “Can you do that kid?” he asks his hands bunching into the silk fabric of the teddy on your hips. You nod slowly. “We’re going to be great parents,” he says loudly, his hands pulling his cock free from boxers. “Don’t you think?” he asks as he pumps himself a few times. You nod, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Ye…yea…Yes, we’re going to be great parents.” You murmur. He grins and leans down licking up your neck before attaching to your lips. His hands moved underneath your teddy where he pulled your panties to the side. He pulls his lips from yours before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t be too loud for me kid,” he teases soflty before he pushes into you, burying himself in one swift thrust. You both stifle groans by pressing your lips to each other in a mash off teeth and plush lips. One of his hands goes to the wall behind you the other pulls your hip tightly to his, your hands go to his shoulders as he starts pumping into you, your ass hitting the wall as he keeps his hips slamming into you. “You like this,” he growled into your ear, his hair falling into his eyes. “You like me fucking you in front of all these people…You like it you little cum whore…”

“Fu..fuck…I do…I do” you moan out breathlessly. And honestly, it’s very true. You never would have thought it was true but as you feel that familiar coil starting to tighten deep in your stomach you know its true. “Shit…”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his eyes trailing down to where your teddy is bunched. You trail your hand in between your bodies and start to play with your clit, gasping out as he hits that spot deep inside you. “Shit,” he growled out. “Keep clenching me like that kid…Just like that” You keep your fingers moving, your other hand going to push his hair back from his face as he pulls your leg around his hip allowing him to go just that much further.

“Oh god…fuc…fuck” your grip on his hair tightening.

“Cum for me…right now…cum on this cock” he growls as he leans down and presses his lips and teeth into your neck. It’s not a hard order to take, your teeth sinking into your bottom lips as you clench around him cumming hard and fast. He pumps two more times before you feel him shooting thick ropes of his cum deep into you. “God damn you’re so fucking good,” he murmurs into your neck. He pulls out, pulling your panties back into place before pressing himself back into his boxers. “Keep that safe for me, until we get home” he says with a grin before kissing you again and turning to go to the next scene.

#snackler #they call it pretend #Adam sackler x reader #Adam sackler #Adam sackler x you #Adam sackler imagine #Adam sackler fanfiction #Adam sackler/reader #Adam sackler/you #hbo girls #girls hbo #Adam driver

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scarlet-star-witch · 4 years

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Fade Into You - Part 1 (Mandalorian/OC)

Summary: Din has spent a year grieving the love of his life. While he thinks he has lost her forever, she lingers in the darkness, her mind twisted and manipulated, with no memory of him or the love they shared. What will it take for Din to help her remember?

Warnings: Angst, which will probably be in every chapter, but I promise we will get to the smut later ;)

Next Part

Sleep was a rarity for the Mandalorian. The moments when he could finally relax and shed his armour was a comfort he didn’t get often, but he cherished it when he did. He groaned in annoyance as he was nudged awake, still feeling as though he could use an extra hour or two of sleep.

A huff of laughter had the frown slipping from his face instantly. He rolled over onto his stomach, his eyes cracking open and the sight in front of him had his bad mood dissipating as if it had never been there in the first place.

“Good morning. Get enough beauty sleep?”

That accented voice had an involuntary smile inching its way onto his usually hardened features. Din rolled his eyes, his hand reaching out to grab hers and he gently pulled her forward. She got the hint and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand moving to run through his messy hair, almost as an instinctive act.

“Could’ve used more.” He said quietly, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You get any more handsome and I won’t be able to fight off all the women in the galaxy.”

Din rolled his eyes again, a light scoff escaping him. She was the only one who had seen him, the real him, since he was a child. No one else in the galaxy would ever compare.

His hand began to gently run a path over her thigh that her sleeping shorts barely covered. She became distracted by his touch, her mind forgetting why she had disturbed his sleep in the first place.

“What time is it?”

“Early. Got a message from Karga, he wants to meet with us. Apparently it’s a big job, he wants as many hunters as he can get.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Din replied, sitting up in the small bunk.

“No, it doesn’t. But we need the credits. We can’t afford to turn down jobs.”

Din nodded in agreement, his hand never ceasing their motions on her skin, a comfort to them both. She could tell he was more than a little annoyed that they had to get back to work. The three days they’d had off weren’t long enough. They both would’ve loved to have all the time in the galaxy to spend just the two of them.

“Honeymoon had to end sometime, right?”

“No it didn’t.” Din argued plainly, causing her to laugh, a sound that never failed to make his insides flip.

“It’ll take a few days to get to Nevarro.” She said coyly, her hands moving from his hair and down his bare chest, the implication of her words not lost on him.

He smiled up at her and reached for her waist, guiding her to straddle his lap. The feeling of her touch on his bare skin was one he never wanted to forget, one he never wanted to go without for the rest of his life.

Having been deprived of touch for most of his life, he knew there was no way he could go back now that he’d gotten a taste of something so good.

Having his wife wrapped in his arms was the epitome of bliss and he was never letting it go.

“I’m sure we can find a way to fill the time.” His voice husked in her ear, causing her to smirk devilishly.

“Cheeky bastard.” She muttered, leaning down to bring her forehead to rest on his. The act was so different now that he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He much preferred it this way.

Din leaned forward, aching to have her lips on his, to have her as close as possible. She leaned down at the same moment, their lips barely an inch apart.

A heavy gasp escaped his lips as he jerked awake. He looked around the room, his hand instinctively moving to the blaster at his side. His tense body relaxed when he realized he was alone.

It had only been a dream. That same damn dream that wouldn’t leave his head. He couldn’t ever get her out of his head.

Iella. His Iella. His wife. His everything.

It had been over a year since he’d lost her. Since those gangsters had gotten their hands on her, since that fiery crash that decimated every part of his heart and soul.

He ripped the helmet off his head, his chest heaving with each of his strained breaths. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he began to feel lightheaded at the memory that would play on a loop, as if just to torture him.

He almost couldn’t believe that he’d made it this far, this long, without her. Having been partners for years before ever getting to the point of a life-long commitment, Din was at a loss as to how he was supposed to function without her, the one constant in his life.

Don’t think about it. Move on.

The words he would speak to himself daily were useless. No matter how hard he tried to keep moving, to keep working and bury everything he was feeling deep down, he knew he would eventually crack. It was only a matter of time before the weight of her loss destroyed him completely.

He sighed heavily, self-hatred settling deep within his gut, like it had been since the crash, and he forced himself to put his helmet back on and make his way to the weapon’s locker to finally get going on the job he’d been avoiding.

He walked through the crowded streets of some over-populated, poor planet purposefully. His wide stature and firm gait brought stares of apprehension and people quickly moved out of his way to avoid any potential trouble. The reputation of the Mandalorian was not understated and people knew not to cross him.

Din entered the seedy cantina, avoiding the stares of the many men who shifted in their seats at the sight of him, worried that they were the reason he was there. He avoided the gazes of the aggressive men that would love nothing more than to brawl to prove their status and the scantily clad women who sat upon their laps.

He shouldered his way to the back of the room, not worrying about nudging others out of his way. A woman, who was much too young to be wearing what she was wearing and even be in the dingy cantina, blocked his path, a sultry smile on her lips.

“Hey big boy. You want some company?” She purred, placing her hands on his arms, as if to try and pull him to her side. He knew she wasn’t actually looking for his company, she most likely just wanted his credits.

Din didn’t spare her a second glance as he shrugged off her hands and kept walking. He felt as though his skin was crawling. He felt a wave of guilt hit him, even though he hadn’t done anything. The thought that other people didn’t know that his heart belonged to someone else. The fact that she wasn’t there by his side to let people know he was off limits left him feeling empty.

He almost sighed in relief when he saw the client he was looking for waiting at a table for him. That meant he was one step closer to getting out of this hell hole.

“You’re late.” The client told him as soon as he had taken his seat across from him.

“You want the job done or not?” Din argued back, his tone impatient.

The client sighed and handed over a tracking fob. “Joran Suul. Worked as a smuggler for the Empire. When everything went to shit, he had no jobs left to do, and wasn't making money anymore. He stole credits from the few Imperial officers that are left. They want his head on a pike. Think you’re up for it?”

Din wasn’t overly fond of working for Imperial douchebags, but credits were credits and he had to make a living somehow. He knew if Iella was around there was no way he would be taking this job. Her moral code had rubbed off on him over the years they’d been together.

“I’ll get it done.” Din stated simply, grabbing the fob and making a quick exit before another word could be said.

~~~

“This is a bad idea.”

Voros rolled his eyes and turned to face the nervous technician. The young man had been getting on his nerves throughout this whole process.

“She’s been out in the field plenty of times. Your machine worked wonders, she’s ready for this.” Voros assured him, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt.

“She’s been on missions before, yes, but never for bounties. What if other hunters have a fob? What if the Mandalorian is on the job? What if he’s looking for her, we can’t risk him finding her.”

“The Mandalorian thinks she’s dead, he won’t be looking for her.” Voros spoke through gritted teeth, his fists clenching with the effort it took to not strangle the man in front of him. “If you question me again you won’t live long enough to beg for mercy.”

With that, Voros walked away from the technician who was left shaking in his boots. His angry expression fell and a smile overtook him as he approached the containment area where his greatest asset was kept.

Iella Yazir was brought to him half dead, crying out for her Mandalorian husband. It really wasn’t hard at all to subdue her, to get her in chains. The machine that wiped her mind forced her into submission far better than he could have ever imagined.

She was already a valiant warrior and training her to be a cold blooded killer was no weary feat. With a kill count approaching triple digits, she had earned a name for herself at the hidden Imperial base. People knew not to cross her.

“Hello, my darling.” Voros smiled sweetly as he approached her padded room.

His assassin got to her feet and approached the window in her room that looked out towards him. Her blank expression only assured him that he had done his job right.

“Voros.” She greeted him stiffly, eyeing him up and down, looking for any weapons on him. He had taught her well.

“I have another job for you.” He started, opening the bounty puck so she could get a look at the wanted man’s face. “He was last seen on Taris. He stole from us, now you know how I feel about someone taking what belongs to me.” He spoke darkly as he typed on the keypad to open her padlocked door.

Iella stepped out of the cell, keeping her eyes trained on her master as she was taught to do.

“I need him dead and I know there’s no one else here I trust to get the job done but you, my darling.”

The assassin smiled maliciously.The blood on her hands didn’t bother her, at least it didn’t bother the person she was now.

“I won’t fail you, master.” She said, bowing her head slightly to the man in front of her, whose smile only grew at the sight of her submission.

“Who are you?”

“No one.” She answered monotonously, the question having been asked more times than she could count.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Master.”

“And what is your job?”

“To kill.”

Voros smiled and leaned forward, his hand gently caressing her cheek, his smile growing wider when she didn’t flinch like she used to. He used the machine on her enough times to wipe that response from her.

“Good girl.” He whispered. “Remember, leave no survivors.”

Well, there’s the first chapter. I hope you guys like it! I have a lot planned for this story so let me know if you want me to continue xx

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #Pedro Pascal #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #din djaren fanfiction #din djaren fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #Fade Into You #Din x Iella

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the-magnus-archives-wiki · 4 years

Text

Red string & Spiders

The Web is obviously gonna be important in season 5 and ive been meaning to dig into some of it’s threads (hah) for a while. Now, I know about Web!Martin and I admit that it’s a possibility, but i dont personally see the narrative taking that route.

I don’t know that all these connections are intentional manipulations either, but I’m just gonna work under the assumption that they are and see where it gets me. Somewhere behind the scenes, Annabelle and the Mother are playing five dimensional chess and laughing at all of us.

This ended up being a bit long (1.5k words, whoops!) so it’s going under a cut.

123: Web Development.

“You would have to write out, and post, in full, a horrible event that had happened to you, or someone that you loved.“ This sounds an awful lot like Annabelle is collecting statements, possibly scouting victims and potential vectors through which she can influence the Institute? She starts doing this in early 2015 and that brings me to

16: Arachnophobia & 39: Infestation

Carlos Vittery's name is found in the Chelicerae website. His experience happened in early 2015 and he made his statement in April. Investigating his statement is what brings Martin into contact with Jane Prentiss and sets into motion a chain of events that saves everyone during the Infestation. ie, he ends up living at the archives and stashes the extra fire extinguishers and the corkscrew.

Of course, Prentiss is also forced to start the wormpocalypse early after Jon accidentally discovers it when killing a spider.

147: Weaver & 80: The Librarian

It’s that damn lighter. From 147: “I realise that addiction is one of the strongest vectors of control there is.“ Leitner wouldn’t have been left alone if Jon hadn’t gone for a smoke, or just vaped instead. (Daisy helpfully mentions that he smokes Silk cut brand at one point -.-)

Of course, the lighter was delivered alongside the web table and destroying it is also what directly lead Jon to meeting Leitner in the first place. idk if the goal here would’ve been to actually get Leitner killed or if that was just a side-effect of pushing Jon further along his journey?¨

121: Far Away

The Web sends Oliver Banks to feed Jon a statement and encourage him to go full avatar. It’s just very kind and helpful, huh?

130: Meat

It helpfully points toward using a body part as an anchor when entering the coffin. This whole mess gets Jon marked by both the Flesh and the Buried.

Hill Top Road, pt 1

There’s A Lot Too Unpack Here

So they’re originally using this place to ensnare fresh adults and filling them with spiders. I think it is a place of power and essentially a production facility for the hollow type of spider person that Trevor encounters in 56. These might very well be the “spider husks” that got Daisy sectioned in the first place.

Then there’s the whole mess with Agnes. I still don’t feel like I fully understand what went down there. Let’s look at these two quotes:

“she had destroyed the place utterly. And yet she remained bound to it, tied to it in some vital way.” (Eugene Vanderstock, 139)

“It let the Mother of Puppets bind me to Agnes, interweave our existences at some… metaphysical level, as it had with Fielding and the house.” (Gertrude, 145)

So we have ties that bind between Fielding/Hill Top, Agnes and Gertrude. The way Eugene talks about it, seems that being bound to Hill Top wouldn’t prevent her from realising her destiny, but being bound to Gertrude did. And while waiting for Gertrude to die, doubt crept into her and made her unfit for their grand ritual.

I still don’t understand why the uprooting of the tree at Hill Top is what spurred Agnes to finally end it though. It seems like that might’ve broken the bond between her and that place, which you’d think is a good thing? idk, maybe we’re not done with Agnes yet, or I’m just overthinking it.

Hill Top Road, pt 2

Season 5 babey!

“I can’t say much about exactly what happened within the walls of that house, but it seems the fight scarred the place in a way far deeper than simple fire. A scar in reality, that I believe has since been compounded by the interferences of other powers.” (Eugene, 139)

“There is something wrong with Hill Top Road. You know it as well as I do. Some strange scar on reality at the center of - whatever it is that the Spider is spinning.” (Helen, 146)

First, idk if it’s anything but this kinda reminds me of how Jon is marked by every fear.

Second, episode 114. This is the episode I keep coming back to when thinking about Hill Top Road cause what the heck is up with this:

“I went to clean that house on April the 23rd 2009 which, according to all of you, is tomorrow. But it can’t be. That was two weeks ago. I’ve tried to talk to my friends about it. Those of my friends I can find, but they seem distant, like they don’t really know me. Everything is just... wrong. I can’t find my favourite coffee shop. And I don’t know who you people are.“

This whole episode reeks of alternate universe and I’m just ??? Additionally, the lady talks about the tree in the backyard, but it was uprooted in 2006, so even more AU vibes. Of course, it could be mental manipulation, someone altering her memories, but that seems like a weird red herring that Jon doesn’t even pursue.

Alternatively, we’ve seen NotThem rewrite reality around a person and at this time the NotThem was bound to the Web table. I don’t think that’s anything, particularly given that the table was destroyed, but it’s a thought. (And NotSasha was very recently released back into the world so, hmm)

Ultimately I feel like the lady in 114 may have been a kind of experiment? A trial run to see exactly how they could harness this scar in reality, or to see if they needed to exacerbate it further? Whatever it is, I’m certain it’s gonna be Important™ in season 5.

81: A Guest for Mr. Spider

I don’t think baby-Jon was necessarily targeted beyond being a convenient victim. Him walking away from Mr Spider alive though, that may have made him interesting. I wonder if the Web being the first to mark him carries special significance and that’s maybe why it’s been assisting him? Its highly speculative but the Web did also mark Gertrude and it sounds like it may have been her first mark too. (Assuming the cat thing to be a joke)

Maybe it’s trying to use this to hijack Elias’ ritual somehow? Or to do a second ritual? Or the order of the marks has no significance and all it wanted Jon for was the Mass Ritual?

110: Creature Feature & 136: The Puppeteer

I feel like I know the least about these two. I don’t know to what extent they’re really connected but Neil Lagorio and the film angle seems like a big thing, and Annabelle’s presence makes me think it’s part of something bigger.

So Lagorio is supposed to be creating a spider animatronic but is actually housebound (you could even say homestuck). Annabelle shows up at his place and spends 5 months doing something before he dies. As news of his death break, a big spider monster kidnaps ~100 actors. It doesn’t feel like a big leap to say that he probably created (or was used to create) some sort of spider in the end.

idk what the end goal here is though, why did Annabelle send Lagorio’s original cuts to the Institute? Why is one body a year washing up on a beach? Are they just using them to lay eggs in, or as food? Just killing people isn’t very spider-y but I guess everyone needs to eat?

This whole thing is giving me ritual vibes but I don’t think that’s it? At least not your standard ritual.

Elias & 160

I feel like the Web has definitely helped us get to 160 but I don’t think Elias is directly working with it. They just seem to share the completion of the Mass Ritual as a goal. (Or maybe they are working together and Elias is getting played somehow, that’d be nice.)

Annabelle straight up says “Maybe I’ve occasionally been nudging something here and there to keep you safe, to keep everything on track” and she directly calls out his compulsion to read statements, which Elias’ ultimately uses to set it off. I feel like, if she wanted to stop it, she would’ve just found some way to kill Jon.

I don’t know if the final goal was just to piggyback on Elias’ ritual though, that feels a bit too simple, especially since Hill Top Road hasn’t been resolved. There’s probably some further, sinister plot at play that just needed the fearpocalpyse to be a thing. I don’t know what it is, but it’s gonna involve a big spider and Hill Top Road.

#the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma spoilers #tma meta #oof that got a bit rambly huh #i dont think ive missed anything big ??#although #I didn't even bring up Dekker #i dont really have anything solid on him #im just not convinced he's dead #and he was able to use the web table #of course you dont need to be aligned to an entity to use their artifacts but hmmmmm #and he was helping the previous archivist much like annabelle has sneakily helped jon at times #but idk #its not exactly solid #.txt

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thingswhatareawesome · 3 years

Text

title: sharp teeth (the tiger is out) fandom: Tiger and Bunny pairing: Barnaby/Kotetsu word count: 2298 summary: taken captive by a sorcerer NEXT, Kotetsu and Barnaby have to break out (a weretiger!Kotetsu and vampire!Barnaby AU)

For the March Flash fiction tenth prompt: Breaking the Rules

Kotetsu growled, the sound bestial, echoing against the dank basement’s walls as he surged against the chains holding him. He felt the metal of the manacles digging into his flesh as he strained against his restraints again and again until veins stood out on his neck and sweat and blood trailed from his wrists. “Bunny!” he yelled, then bellowed again, even louder, “Bunny!!”

They’d been hunting down the sorcerer NEXT that had been terrorizing the city’s Bronze Stage for the last few weeks, following a trail that’d been frustratingly faint while the other Heroes investigated other leads. All but at the point of deciding they were at a dead end, he and Barnaby had stumbled into the criminal’s abandoned lair in an old mansion—and right into a trap. The NEXT had been waiting, with swarms of minions, overwhelming them almost immediately with surprise and sheer numbers of summoned creatures.

Then Barnaby’s frantic shouted alert to the other Heroes over his communicator cut off into a scream as the NEXT gestured, and the entire roof above them peeled away and sunlight flooded the great hall. The sun didn’t kill Barnaby—but it hurt, and Kotetsu saw red, roaring as he heard his partner in pain, even as the minions dogpiled him, pinning him to the ground and shackling him with something that drained his power instantly and forced him out of his shift. The last he’d seen was Barnaby being dragged away, before a sharp blow to his head and unconsciousness.

And he’d woken here, in the dimness and the damp, alone, fettered by the same magicked metal that sucked away his power as fast as he could generate it, slipping through his grasp like sand through his fingers. Kotetsu sagged against the chains with a low moan. Bunny, what had they done with Bunny?

Then, a sound—a rustle, the sibilant hiss of something sliding against something, and…footsteps? Kotetsu peered into the dimness, cursing being limited to human senses in the low light. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

A whisper of a low laugh, pained, but oh god, so welcome. “Could you be any louder, old man? I think they heard you up on the Gold Stage.”

“Bunny!” His chains gave a rattle and a creak as Kotetsu leaped against them with excitement and joy, even as relief nearly brought him to his knees. Ahead of him, he could see the faintest hint of a pale form in the darkness that was growing larger ever so slowly, until finally it barely resolved into the form of Barnaby. “Are you okay? What’d they do to you? How’d you get away?”

“If you want questions answered, you generally need to stop asking more,” Barnaby snarked, but there was amusement in his voice, and god, Kotetsu wanted to hug him so much right now. The younger man groaned quietly, finally shuffling close enough that Kotetsu could see him clearly—and fuck, Barnaby looked wretched.

The sound of something sliding against something was Barnaby’s hand pressed against the cinderblock wall, leaning so heavily against it as he walked it was obviously the only thing keeping his partner upright. His skin was flushed—no, burned—pink and red and…and worse, one eye swollen shut fully and the other very nearly there, and he looked so weakened, a limp husk of himself, like if Kotetsu gave one puff of breath, Barnaby would dissipate entirely. A whine, low and plaintive, stuck in Kotetsu’s throat, “Bunny.”

“I’m fine. No, I am.,” he interrupted Kotetsu’s grumbled protest. “I will be.” Pushing away from the wall, staggering a bit, he ran his hands over the chains imprisoning Kotetsu, making a displeased, worried noise as he found the blood and mangled skin below the cuffs around Kotetsu’s wrists. “The NEXT is clueless about vampires. They knocked me out and left me outside in the sun with barely more than human grade handcuffs on and a small group of those creatures guarding me. I don’t know why he thought I would just helplessly lay there and die.”

Testing his strength against the chains, Barnaby yanked against where they were anchored into the walls, growling, building to a full-out shout as he strained. The links and bolts groaned, creaking, but held fast, and Barnaby sagged against the wall again, panting. ”The creatures return to the plane they were summoned from if you slay them,” he continued after a moment. “And the NEXT sent most of the rest of his forces out against the others now that they’re close. He’s underestimating us since he has us captured, so we’ll have the element of surprise on our side when we take him on again.”

Kotetsu hummed. “The guy may not know anything about vampires, but he knows about were creatures. Whatever these chains are made of, they’re draining me. And they’re stronger than even you are.” He paused, giving Barnaby a loaded look. “You’re gonna have to bite me, Bunny.” Steamrolling over Barnaby’s response even before the younger man could start to protest, “You have to. It’s the only way you’ll be able to break the chains and let me get my power back. And, most of all, you’ll heal.”

But Barnaby was still shaking his head. “You know the laws. It’s even in our contracts. Both of our contracts.”

“Fuck it,” Kotetsu snarled, “break the laws, break the rules, who cares. If it makes you better, it’s worth it. And it’ll mean we can kick that asshole’s ass and finally stop him for sure. C’mon,” he wheedled, then outright begged, “let me help you. Please.”

Barnaby stared at him, then reached out and softly ran a finger over Kotetsu’s cheek, down to his jaw, gently raising the older man’s chin and turning his face slowly one direction, then the other. “You’re sure?” he asked, quietly. “This could get us in a lot of trouble.”

“I’m all about trouble. Kaburagi T. Kotetsu, the t stands for trouble, you know that,” Kotetsu grinned at Barnaby’s snort, then his expression softened. “And come on, you know I’d do anything for you. You’re my partner. You’re my lover. You’re everything.”

Now both of Barnaby’s hands were on Kotetsu’s face, cradling it like he were delicate glass. Even in the dimness, he could see moisture beneath his partner’s eyes shimmering. “Foolish old man,” he whispered, and his lips against Kotetsu’s were cool and smooth. “Foolish, big-hearted old man,” he said again, after the kiss. The words were a breath against his face. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

His face still cradled against Barnaby’s one palm, Kotetsu let his partner tilt his head, felt him trace the fingers of his other hand down his neck—tracking his veins, no doubt, but also caressing, and Kotetsu shivered. There was the brush of a kiss pressed against his neck, then another, then the tickle of Barnaby’s tongue against his skin, tasting, and Kotetsu couldn’t help the low, shuddery moan that gasped from his lips. Finally Barnaby crowded him abruptly back against the wall, Kotetsu’s chains rattling as his arms wrapped around the younger man in a reflexive embrace, and bit down hard.

The sharp, piercing ache from Barnaby’s teeth curled heat and want through Kotetsu’s body, all the way from his neck to his groin, and the burning, bruising throb as he began to suck left Kotetsu clutching at him, one arm wrapped around the young vampire’s waist, the other buried in Barnaby’s long curls. His eyes fluttered. Distantly, he could hear is own voice hoarsely keening, “Please, please, please,” as he clung to Barnaby, trying to press impossibly closer.

Then the ache and the burning in his neck disappeared as Barnaby pulled away, Kotetsu whimpering at the loss and trying to pull him back again. But Barnaby only leaned against him, resting his forehead against Kotetsu’s, breathing hard and fast. The swelling around them gone, his eyes cracked open as he finally caught his breath, glowing a brilliant blue from behind his glasses and suffusing them both in soft light. “Kotetsu,” he breathed. His teeth were glistening red, shining in the glow from his eyes, and so were his lips. Kotetsu watched a drop of his blood trail slowly from Barnaby’s lower lip down to his chin.

He snapped his gaze away, taking in the rest of the younger man’s face—smooth, unburned, unmarred skin, a blush dusting his cheeks—and a weight lifted from his shoulders to see Barnaby healed again. “Thank fucking god,” he muttered. Then his eyes drifted back to the shine on his partner’s lips, and this time he couldn’t look away, fixated, until finally he gave in and dove forward to kiss Barnaby forcefully, not caring about the slick of his blood on the his lover’s lips or the taste of it in his mouth as Barnaby all but tried to devour him in return with a ragged, wanting groan.

Eventually Barnaby pulled away with a sharp inhale, muttering a curse under his breath. “Later,” he panted, voice becoming brusque when Kotetsu tried to lean in again. “Focus,” he demanded, though his expression gentled when Kotetsu, snapping back to himself, shook his head roughly to clear it. Grasping Kotetsu’s arms, he stepped out of his embrace with obvious regret. “Later,” he repeated, “I promise.”

“Yeah,” Kotetsu nodded, looking down, though he licked his lips to catch the taste of blood and Barnaby just once more, then caught Barnaby’s gaze again with a smirk. “I’ll hold you to it.” He watched then as Barnaby ran his hands over the chains yet again, this time breaking the links with ease, snapping first one length with a tug, then the other. Then he did the same with the manacles around Kotetsu’s wrists—supporting each of Kotetsu’s hands in his, he peeled the thick metal away as if he were simply removing the peel from a piece of fruit.

Watching Barnaby frown down at the bloodied mess of his wrists where the metal had dug in while Kotetsu struggled, he thought about the laws forbidding vampires from drinking were-creatures’ blood. People feared how powerful vampires were when boosted like that, how strong, how fast, how fantastically super human they became. Barnaby lifted each of Kotetsu’s hands, kissing the insides of his wrists so carefully, so tenderly, Kotetsu could barely even feel the touch of it. People feared—but Kotetsu didn’t. He’d never feared Barnaby, not even once. Not even that time when Barnaby forgot him because of that asshole Maverick.

Suddenly a rush of power slammed into Kotetsu, staggering him and nearly sending him stumbling to his knees, only saved from falling by Barnaby grabbing at his shirt and keeping him upright until he could find his footing again. “Wow. Okay,” he said dazedly. “My power’s back.” It filled him like a buzz, a rumble like approaching thunder, potential energy a living thing coiled right beneath his skin, “God, that feels so much better,” he purred.

“You’re good to change, then?”

“Yep, should be.” Reaching inside himself to where the shift always lurked, lying in wait, he found it easily, ready and eager to be released. Removing his vest, he unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide from his shoulders to drape from where it was tucked into his waistband. Rolling his shoulders, he inhaled deep—and let the change loose.

Instantly it crashed through him, surged over him like a wave—his bones, body expanding, broadening, muscles bulking, claws sprouting from his fingers, teeth sharpening, becoming jagged, feral. Opening a tiger’s eyes in a man’s body, Kotetsu roared.

“What the fucking hell?!” A shout came from the darkness, and lights suddenly flooded the basement.

Barnaby swore. “A patrol.” He spun, flew forward so fast, even Kotetsu’s were-sight could barely track him. It was as if he teleported, instantly appearing next to the guard and launching into a powerful roundhouse kick that caught the guy under the chin and slammed him hard against the wall, his body slumping to the floor. Then Barnaby was immediately next to him again, hand pressed against a spot on the guard’s neck. “He’s alive,” he called back, sounding relieved. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure i held back enough. He’s just human.”

“’s’okay, Bunny,” Kotetsu’s voice was a gravelly growl, and he smiled with a predator’s teeth, “I didn’t doubt you would.” His partner knew how Kotetsu felt about killing, and even now Kotetsu didn’t have a single worry that Barnaby would go too far.

“Then let’s find the NEXT before word gets out and ruins our chance for surprise.” His partner gave Kotetsu a flat look out of the corner of his eye. “If someone being loud again didn’t already alert him.”

Scratching at the back of his head, Kotetsu shrugged, only a little abashed. “I can’t help it, Bunny. When I’m Wild Tiger, it’s time to let out a wild roar!”

Barnaby rolled his eyes in response, but Kotetsu could see the curl almost but not quite hidden at the corner of his still red-stained lips. Then, with one last glance at each other as if to reassure themselves that the other truly was all right, they both took off into the mansion in pursuit of the NEXT.

#tiger and bunny #taibani #fanfiction #March Flash Fiction #non-human AU #alternate universe

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irrealismora · 3 years

Note

here's your prompt:

"Have you always been like this?"

"My whole life, actually. Since I was born."

I'm sorry that it took me so long to answer this prompt! I wanted to write something complete, if that makes sense. This is from a WIP that I found literally the day I got this ask. I still don't have a name for it so I've just been calling it Unnamed for now.

Thank you so much for the prompt though! I loved writing this. (This is actually the first complete scene I've written for this WIP, so extra thank you! And it's kind of long, I'm sorry. ;-;)

November presses her forehead against the wall, listening an irritated neighbor chastises Kieran.

"Look, man," the neighbor, most likely Ethan from 306, says, "I get the late night munchies too. But my munchies don't wake up the whole building, y'know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah, I get you," Kieran replies, his voice muted by the half open door. "We swore we set a timer. We promise it won't happen again. We were watching Avengers and-"

"Yo, you a Marvel fan?"

November smiles as they start talking about how Killmonger deserved a better story line, knowing full well that Kieran has never seen a single Marvel movie.

After less than 5 minutes of talk, Kieran accepts an invitation to binge watch the entire series sometime in November, "'cause you just know that Disney is gonna drop something big for Christmas." With a fist bump and a promise to never set off the fire alarm at 2AM ever again, Kieran gently closes the door.

November steps out from around the corner just as Kieran turns around.

They meet each other's eyes.

Kieran opens his mouth, then closes it. He raises a finger. "Hold on a second." He sidesteps the mangled corpse of the smoke detector and disappears into the kitchen.

November looks at the corpse, then at the murder weapon - the golf club propped up innocently against a side table - then up at the part of the ceiling where the smoke detector met its end.

Great, she thinks. More problems I can't afford.

Kieran reappears with a napkin, offering it to her.

"You've got a little..." he whispers, and he points vaguely to his eye.

November grabs it, taking off her glasses and quickly wiping the corner of her eye. The napkin comes away with a sooty, red smudge.

Kieran leans against the wall across from her, the mangled smoke detector between them.

"Thank you," November whispers back, folding up the napkin. "For that."

"Of course."

November feels his eyes on the top of her head. She takes a small breath, then looks up to meet them.

Where his eyes are, she instead sees the gentle light and shape of his soul. It congregates over the bridge of his nose and where his eyes should be, looking not unlike balls of cottonwood seeds that glow ethereally from within.

She slides her glasses on and his soul disappears, leaving only his undecipherable amber eyes.

"Have you always been like this?" he asks.

November looks down at the wad of napkin in her hand.

"My whole life, actually," she says, her voice still at a whisper. "Since I was born."

She expects there to be some kind of relief, some great weight that lifts from her chest. But still. Nothing. Well, nothing more than the jitters from the coffee.

"I set off the fire alarm then, too. Made some nurses and doctors quit." She laughs, a solitary ha. "If it weren't for my Aunt, I think the doctor would've killed me."

He blinks. "Really?"

"Of course. A baby born crying blood and smoke? Anti-Christ material there."

He frowns, but he doesn't look away. "Does it hurt?"

November studies him in the low light of the entryway, the very real looking crease between his brows.

"Always," she says.

They both look down at the smoke detector.

November sighs. "I'm sorry. I can replace it."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that."

"Don't worry about me. Really. I'll be okay."

"I know that. You're a very capable person," and he nods towards the golf club. "I just..."

He turns away, staring at the potted plant next to the front door.

The look on his face shocks her like ice, making her straighten, making her cross her arms tightly over her chest. But it does nothing to stave the feeling of everything inside her emptying.

And oh God. The emptying is terrible, but learning that there were things still left to lose?

That is so much worse.

"It's okay if we can't be friends anymore," she hears herself say, "or if you want me to move out. I get that-"

He whirls. "What? No. No. No, it's not like that. I..." He sighs, bracing himself against the wall.

"Kieran?"

"Admittedly," he says after a beat, "I've seen a lot worse."

November just looks at him, her thoughts flying so fast she couldn't figure out which one to follow and translate into actual words.

He bites his lower lip, then releases it. "I've done so much worse," he says, his voice just a bit too even. "To people."

November doesn't speak until he meets her eyes again.

"Is this about what you used to do?" she asks. "What Vera does?"

He nods.

"And it's not... Marketing?"

Kieran shakes head. "Vera has climbed high enough in the food chain to not have to do the things we used to do. But what we used to do was..."

He lets out a ragged breath, raking his hands through his hair.

This, November realizes, must be the weight lying heavy on his chest, his great relief.

"You don't have to, Kier."

He smiles, just a little. "I want you to know that you aren't alone, and that crying the way that you do is not the worst thing I've seen. That it won't scare me away."

November scoffs. "Oh, it can get a bit worse."

Kieran raises an eyebrow.

"I don't have eye problems," she says.

"Okay."

"I need these glasses to keep me from seeing things I shouldn't see."

He blinks first. "Such as?"

You don't see them, Ma?

See what, honey?

"Souls," November croaks. "I can people's souls, instead of eyes. What they look like, what they are, who people are, if I tried hard enough. My sister June, who can commune with spirits and entities, made them for me so that I don't have to see them."

Kieran stares at her for a split second, then he laughs.

"What?" November asks, her voice raising just a smidge but she might as well have been screaming. "Is that funny?"

"No!" he says quickly. "Nothing about what you're going through is funny. It's just... Crazy that you think that seeing souls is worse. That's-" and he waves his hands. "Beautiful! It's fucking beautiful! So much better than what I do."

"And what do you do?"

Again, he opens his mouth then closes it. Something settles over his features, as though the weight didn't lift but simply got too heavy to bear anymore.

He looks over to the plant, then sighs.

"What do you-"

But then the plant starts moving. No, not, moving.

Dying.

It's leaves shrivel, its stalk caving in on itself until it becomes as thin as a stick. Finally, it falls over, nothing more than a husk.

She looks at him and despite the resigned look of him, his eyes seem to glow.

"I kill things," he whispers. "And I've killed a lot more than just plants."

#ask response #unnamed wip #new wip #prompt response #writing is hard

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sabraeal · 4 years

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The Daisy Chain, Chapter 8

At long last, the end of this series! AO3 informs me that the last update was in December 2017, so uh....enjoy. This was written for @puffdragongirl for her birthday, which is TODAY because I am an adult who can totally finish things on time. Just...ignore that this fic has only needed one more chapter for two and a half years.

The room is dark when she slips through, silent save for the sound of Obi’s breath, thick and heavy with sleep. Shirayuki sets her back to the door, guiding it shut softly, the latch engaging with a sharp click.

It’s just how she left it: his coat slung over the back of his chair, the spray of paperwork across his desk, the soft glow of the stone on the bedside table; how it looks every night she’s snuck in to steal his warmth.

Save for the clothes strewn by the beside, of course, shucked as quick as corn at a husking, and the bare body sprawled beneath the sheets.

A hand claps to her cheeks, burning. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t even thought it could, but--

Her eyes adjust, enough so that she can trace the sharp lines of his face in the darkness. Her heart clenches, overwhelmed with fondness, and she cannot hold back her smile. Shirayuki may not have meant for it to happen, but she’s glad it did.

His robe slides from her shoulders, joining his jacket on the chair. Cold air stings her skin, and before she can give a single shiver, she slips beneath the covers, pressing her body tight against his. He’s warm under her hands, bare-chested beneath the cocoon of covers. She would never dare, not even in summer, but Obi is a furnace; only seconds beside him and she’s warm from head to toe. By morning she’ll be a sweaty mess, and--

And that could be from an entirely different reason than she’s used to.

Shirayuki raises herself onto her elbow, watching his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. She knows this rhythm well, the long lull of his sleep; it’s been her constant companion these past few years, the last thing she heard before her dreams pulled her under. To think, for so long she fooled herself, believing that she could sleep as easy with another’s.

He sighs, head tilting on his pillow. The lines of his face are slack, unwary, his breath steady and slow. Perfectly peaceful in this place.

Her mouth rounds into a faint smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His breath stutters, and she smothers a smirk. As if she couldn’t tell he was faking after all these years.

His nose wrinkles, eyes screwing shut. “I see Master is telling my secrets now.”

Her hand cups him, his cheek stubbled against her palm. With no hesitation, he leans into it, nose nuzzling down its hatched lines, the heat of his breath skating down her wrist. “Obi.”

He sighs, eyes slitting open to reveal a sliver of gold behind the cage of his eyelashes. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Never?”

He rolls up onto his side, lips brushing the base of her palm, sending sparks down her skin. “Not ever.”

Her mouth slants wryly. “So much for that.”

A laugh rumbles up from his chest, muffled by her palm. “Well, I wasn’t the one who told you.”

“Why.”

Obi blinks, eyes wide and gleaming like coins. “I...” His fingers clench in the sheets between them. “I didn’t want you to act any differently. Or...or make you feel that you had to-- to--”

“Love you?”

“Pity me.” His fingers wrap around her wrist, slowly stroking down to her elbow. “I consider myself a pragmatist, after all.”

“Obi.” She rests her forehead against his. “No more secrets.”

His chest trembles beneath her palm. “But how will I maintain my reputation as a man of mystery?”

She shakes her head-- or rather, rolls it along his forehead, noses brushing at the tip. “Have your secrets, then. Just not from me.”

His breath leaves him on a sigh, body relaxing under her touch. “I could live with that.”

“Good.” Shirayuki tilts her head, their noses parting as she closes that last breath of space between them.

A sparks courses through her at the touch, catching the tinder in her belly. It smolders, each brush of his lips against hers fanning the flame, threatening a blaze. Her fingers clench at his shoulder, and his answering moan makes her wonder if they could close the gulf between their bodies and start again, picking up where they left off--

“Are you all right?” he breathes, putting a healthy, finger-width of space between them. “Are you sure that we--?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, chasing his mouth, feeling that sweet rush of victory before he pulls himself back again.

This time, it’s further, and when she opens her eyes, an incredulous arch of an eyebrow waiting for her.

“No,” she admits, bowing her head against his shoulder. “I mean, yes to-- to wanting. But I’m not...” She bites her lip. “It was never going to be an easy conversation.”

His mouth curves mischievously in the dark. “It could have been easier.”

“I...I don’t think so.” His gaze is dubious when she leans back to meet it. “I could have been better prepared, and I could have, ah...avoided this sort of confrontation, but--” her fingers tips idly on his skin as she gathers her thoughts-- “this was never going to be...clean.”

He hums, unconvinced. “If you needed this conversation at all.”

“I did. We did.” She lets out a huff; if only words came as easily as kisses did when she was with him. “I think...I think I knew-- I knew when you said I couldn’t-- that a princess couldn’t work beside a common boy.”

“Ah, Miss!” He jolts away from her, as if her touch scalds. “You shouldn’t have listened to me. I only--”

“No.” Her hand cradles his cheek, and she leans in, rubbing noses together once more. “You were right. I just wasn’t ready to hear it. And when he asked for my hair, and you told me to tell him to come get it himself, I--” her breath catches in her throat-- “I knew he wouldn’t come.”

“Well,” Obi drawls, mouth rucking up shadows. “Looks like you missed the mark on that one.”

“That only makes it worse. He only came to collect, not to-- to--” she sighs, shaking her head-- “not to see me. This isn’t the way I wanted to start the conversation but...”

She worries her lip, choosing her words carefully before saying, “If this hadn’t happened, I’m not sure I ever would have had the courage to walk away.”

“Well,” Obi laughs after a long moment, teeth flashing white in the dark. “If you’d wanted to leave so badly, all you had to do was as--”

Her hand pushes at his chest, playful. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know.”

“It’s only...” She curls in closer to him, her feet pressing against his shins. “It’s so much easier to do something when it isn’t just for yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He catches her hand, pressing it flat against his breast. “Before I met you, I did everything just for myself. Wasn’t too hard.”

Beneath her palm, his heart beats slow and steady, as faithful as Obi himself. “And now?”

His thumb strokes down the long bone of her hand. “And now I have so much more to lose.”

“No.” It’s little more than a breath, her fingers curling into his hair. “You have so much more to live for.”

His lips curve, entirely too inviting. “That’s splitting hairs, Miss.”

“You know,” she manages, eyes fixed on the full bow of his mouth, “I liked it better when you called me by my name.”

His breath stutters in his chest, his heart racing just beneath her palm. “Ah, but did you really like that, or just what I was doing while I used it?”

Heat pounds through her as she remembers the way his hands had gripped her thighs, how they had felt wrapped around him, how he had felt as he moved deep withing her--

“Can I say both?”

One of those hands grips her now, firm against the round of her seat, and drags her hip-to-hip. “You won’t hear any objection from me.”

Ah, yes, it certainly-- certainly doesn’t feel like he has any objection. Or, um, clothes.

Her cheeks flare unbearably hot, but she’s never been one to back away from a challenge-- or such a welcome invitation.

“We were interrupted before.” Her hand snakes from his chest to his shoulder, and oh, it would be so much easier if she was the sort of girl who was used to this, to asking for things, but-- “We shouldn’t leave things unfinished.”

She expects his mouth to tilt, for a wicked smile to spread across his lips as he slides her impossibly close, the heat of his breath skating across her skin, but--

But instead he only pulls back, concern furrowing his brow. “You didn’t--?”

“You didn’t,” she breathes, palm smoothing down his side. “Don’t you want to?”

“I--” The excuse dies on his lips, swept away by the slow brush of hers. He groans into her mouth, fingers digging hard into her thigh. “Ahh, Shirayuki, you--”

“Mm,” she hums, pressing closer, mouth tucked against his neck, his pulse thrumming against her lips. “I like the way you say it.”

“Haah?” he manages, hips canting towards her as her fingers trace over the curved bone of it. “What do you--?”

“My name.” He hisses as the words form against his skin, head tilting back. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

Her hand drops those last inches, wrapping around the hard length of his cock. He jumps under her touch.

She hadn’t touched it the last time; between the way his fingers had felt and the urgent need to have him inside her, she hadn’t even thought to try. But now its heavy weight is in her palm, both solid and soft. The skin is like nothing she’s ever felt-- well, at least not with her hands-- smooth and stretched tight over the firm flesh beneath. She knows it’s not bone, that it’s only vascularized tissue filled to the brim, but it’s hard enough that--

“Shirayuki,” he pants, forehead resting on hers. She blinks up at him, confused, until she realizes her hands have moved on their own, tracing along the bulging vessel on its underside, and--

And that’s working for him. Curious.

“Shirayuki,” he tries again, fingers gripping so hard they could bruise. “You don’t have to--”

His voice is lost, falling into a guttural groan as she finally moves, stroking her hand down the length of him. Heat pools between her legs at the sound of it, at the way his hips jerk between each stroke, chasing her touch.

She hooks a calf around his thigh, steadying herself. “I want to.”

His head tips back, exposing the tender skin of his neck, and Shirayuki knows an invitation when she sees one. Her mouth finds a ridge of bone, suckling at the flesh there, drawing out the most intriguing sounds from his throat.

“Shirayuki.” He’s panting, painfully hard in her hand, but still he manages, “I don’t want you feel like you have to-- that I have to--”

Her teeth nibble at the bone. He curves into her with a moan, hands clutching at her, dragging blunted nails down her back.

“I don’t,” she breathes, pulling away far enough to see how his pupils are blown, only that thin wire of gold remaining around the eclipse of his eyes. “I want to make you feel good. As good as you felt in me.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, hips bucking against hers as her hand slides along his cock, steady and sure. It’s-- it’s sticky now, some sort of liquid pearling at the slit on its head, but she isn’t disgusted, not in the slightest. Oh no, she smears her palm over it, rubbing it down his shaft, and is rewarded with another moaning laugh.

“If you keep talking like that, none of this is going to last very long,” he warns, words pulled taffy long as he thrusts into her hand.

Her pace stutters. “Do you need it to?”

Six years she’s worked in the clinic, solving every issue from bee stings to pleurisy, but none of them help her here, not when she is feeling as far from clinical as Wilant is from Wistal. She knows the mechanics, how to insert a round peg into a round hole, but these finer details can only be found in a library called experience, a place she has never been.

“Is that better for you?” she worries. “Should I go slower?”

His breath gasps against her shoulder, fingers bushing mindlessly down her back as she lingers on every stroke.

“Anything is good,” he croaks, “just as long as you don’t stop.”

The ache is voice is answered between her legs, pulsing at every hitched breath, at every lost word. But this isn’t about her; it’s about the guttural noises wrenched from his throat, about the way his hands can’t seem to pull her close enough, about the hot breath panting against her neck. It’s about how he took care of her before, laying her back and taking her so sweet, so gentle, and leaving nothing but pleasure behind. He took care of her, and now it’s time for her to take care of him too.

She wants this to last, to bring him to the same dizzying heights as he had brought her, to watch him shatter as he comes--

But oh, her arms are tired. They never mention this in any of Yuzuri’s novels.

“Something wrong?” he grunts, head lifting from the mattress. It’s only then that she realizes she’s slowed, her movement jerky, and-- and--

Well, she can’t imagine it feels good.

“My arm is tired,” she admits, heat flaring over cheeks. He lays a kiss there, muffling a laugh. “I’m not used to this sort of, ah...exercise.”

“Oh,” he croons, finger tracing along her burning triceps. “Your poor scholarly muscles aren’t used to this kind of abuse?”

“No, they aren’t.” She sighs, giving her hand a disappointed glare. “Is there anything else I can do?”

His mouth rounds into a wicked curve. “Oh, I could think of one or two things...”

“Oh!” She blinks. “What is it?”

He laughs, shaking his head, and waves her hands away. “You’re too easy, Miss. And it’s fine, I can finish this. After all, I’ve been doing this myself since--”

“No.”

He stares at her, and she stares back, just as surprised. “I mean, I want to.” She lets out a shaky breath, tracing his vein with her finger. “I want it to be me.”

Obi groans, loud and long. “Alright,” he murmurs, reaching for her. “Alright.”

With no warning at all her word tilts, settling only when she’s on her back, Obi hovering above her. He parts her legs, and oh, the wetness between them floods out, coating the tops of her thighs. She hadn’t known-- hadn’t thought--

His hips settle against her, his cock pressing into her belly, and-- and she knows the moment he feels her, feels how wet he’s made her, because he rounds over, mouth open against the collar of her nightgown, and moans.

“Shirayuki,” he gasps. “Shirayuki, please-- aahh.”

Her hand finds him again, wrapping around his cock, and her other follows, until every inch of him is covered, and the sound he makes when she moves is--

Is short lived.

His mouth presses hard against hers, no longer those hesitant, gentle brushes, but instead tangled tongues and sharp teeth. Her heart pounds, but it’s not the rabbit tattoo fear, but the ravenous drumming of a larger beast, one hand raising not to push him away, but draw him closer.

Her nails drag down his scalp, urging him to take more, to nip at her lips and lick her teeth, and he does, he does, but-- but his hips rock into hers, the base of his cock hitting her just where she needs it, just where she’s been dying for attention, and she whimpers.

He stills against her, and when she opens her eyes-- ah, when did she even close those?-- he’s staring down, jaw slack and eyes dark, and--

And then his hands are on her, one buried in her hair, holding her to his mouth, and the other palming her ass, holding her steady as he grinds into her, keeping pace with how she works him, driving her ever faster, rougher, until she can hear the wet slap of him between her legs and--

And it isn’t fair. This is for him, just for him, and all she can think is how good he felt in her, how good he would feel in her if only he wanted it--

“Shirayuki,” he whimpers, pulling at her lips. “Please, please...”

“Obi.” His name is little more than a whine. “Obi, you have to-- you have to tell me what you want.”

His head shakes buried in her shoulder now, sweat dripping onto her skin. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Please.” She tangles her fingers in the bristle of his hair, tugging him back until he meets her eyes, desperation plain. “I want to make you feel good.”

His eyes flutter shut, a blush spread across his cheeks, his chest, and all he manages is, “Yes.”

“I want to make you feel good,” she tries again, but oh, his hips are so distracting-- “But I need you to tell me how.”

He groans. “I want--” a hiss breaks through his teeth as she rubs her palm over his head-- “I want to be inside you.”

Her jaw drops. “Oh.”

“Ah, no.” He lets out a pained laugh. “We don’t-- you don’t--”

“No--” her hands drop from him to tangle in the hem of her nightgown-- “please--” she drags it over her head, thighs opening wide for him-- “please put your cock in me.”

He stills above her, jaw slack. “Oh,” he manages. “Alright. Yes.”

She’s still sore from the first time, but she’s so wet he hardly has to do more than push and he’s seated in her. It’s an odd sensation, different than the last, as if she’s tight and worn at the same time, raw and still wanting. He thrusts, breath hissing between his teeth, and oh, yes, that’s what she’s wanted since he pulled from her that first time, to feel him in her again, right where he belongs.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and then he’s lifting her hips, tilting her just the way she needs for him to be deep inside her, hitting her in a way that’s so perfect, too perfect, he is perfect-- “Fuck, you can’t just-- you can’t tell me that if you want-- If I’m supposed to--”

Oh, she hadn’t...she hadn’t known she was saying that all out loud.

“I want you,” she tells him, little more than a whisper in his ear, rolling in to meet each of his thrusts, her body humming with that elusive static, building with each thrust of his cock in her. “Please, I want you.”

“Haah.” He nips at her collarbone. “You feel much too good for talk like that.”

She grunts, confused, and he presses a sweet kiss to her lips, at odds with the desperate way he’s rolling into her. “If you keep talking like that,” he tells her with a laugh, “I’ll come.”

Something deep within her clenches, and they both moan. “I want you to come,” she tells him. “I want it--”

“Ha-haah,” he puffs, fist clenching in the sheets. “Good, because I-- I can’t-- I’ll pull--”

“No.” Her thighs squeeze tight around his hips, keeping him buried in her, allowing him only the space to keep his rhythm. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

His eyes pulse wide. “But I could-- you might--?”

Words fail him, and he just lays a hand on her stomach, and she knows with a clench of her heart which ones they were, which future he didn’t dare bring into the space between them.

Her hand lays over his even as her hips goad him on. “That wouldn’t-- it wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Shirayuki,” he manages, bare moments before he crushes her to him, pumping into her with abandon, saying the most wonderful things in her ear--

And then it’s over, his large body dropping limply over hers, their sweat mingling with their skin.

“Ah.” He rolls to his side, freeing her from his weight. Strangely, she misses it. “You didn’t manage it that time, did you?”

The heat is almost unbearable now that he mentions it, and she squirms against him. “I’m fine. I don’t need to—to come again.”

He gets a wicked look on his face. “Oh, no. This is an easy fix, Miss.”

He kisses his way down her body, and by the time he puts his lips against her cunt she—

“Well,” he laughs when he ears have stopped ringing. “Clearly we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Her limbs are limp, languid. “Later,” she promises as he settles beside her. “In the morning.”

His eyes widen even as hers close. “Yeah,” he murmurs as sleep pulls her under. “In the morning.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #The Daisy Chain #FINALLY IT IS DONE #i meant to have a part after where she's like #obi clearly i'm on something to keep my courses regular #we aren't going to have a baby now #but it just didn't seem to fit in the flow #that's more of a morning conversation where he's like #!!! I DIDN'T PULL OUT WHAT IF BABY???#and her being like buddy come on #there's stuff for that!#i just wanted you to know it wouldn't be a DISASTER if it happened #(and please like she didn't SUDDENLY ask yuzuri what was the best thing for that #after the night they had the sexy ticle fight #like oh no reason just thought it would be a good precaution you know how it is #yuzuri: *watching Obi avoid them like the plague* hm yeah sure okay)

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