#there is literally a parasite inside of you
me: writing a lengthy prose meta about jane prentiss
also me: lol what if jane prentiss is a little bit of a weeb and was like “haha now i’m just like shino aburame.. :) this is so cool”
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the first time i saw prometheus, it was just randomly on tv one night and i was only vaguely watching it, like only glancing up now and then, but i always managed to glance up right at the most horrifying parts and i think i was like. only 12 or 13 years old and it was like the most horrifying movie i had seen in years. genuinely freaked me out SO badly. just looking up at the screen randomly just to witness some woman with a fucking alien parasite in her stomach and she needs to use a robotic medicine thing to cut it out of her in some fucked up parody of a normal C-section, and then she literally gets like stapled together and is then running around with nothing but staples and pain killers keeping her together and shes still covered in blood and that weird orange surgical stuff and it was just like. holy absolute shit
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When Rachel Bloom wrote The Darkness in 2018 she really knew how it was.
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i don’t wanna say anything but there’s a difference between being a picky eater ass bitch by refusing to taste like a plantain or something and not wanting to eat raw fucking fish wrapped in seaweed
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It’s Pwyllien slime
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When Daddy’s Not Around
Summary: A cockroach infestation in Y/N’s apartment block forces her and her parents to stay with her dad’s best friend— the wealthy bachelor James Barnes. And when her parents are out of town for the weekend, the sexual tension that has been brewing between the pair finally boils over.
Characters: DadsBestFriend!Bucky x F!Reader.
Warnings: age gap relationship (reader is 18), heavy sexual tension, explicit sexual content, Bucky being a little tease, Bucky being a slut, Bucky in just a towel, female masturbation, finger sucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), multiple orgasms, definite size kink, cream pie, 18+.
A/N: Written for @sweeterthanthis “Quote Me On It” challenge, my prompt was “I thought about what you would look like having an orgasm” from Sex, Lies & Videotape. It is highlighted in bold, however it has been altered slightly. Bucky’s look is entirely inspired by this GIF, and if you’re after a visualisation of the sex position, feast your eyes on this. Beta: @there-must-be-a-lock but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. Lou, your detailed feedback and suggestions have literally altered my writing experience completely, thank you so much. I’d like to also thank my pre-reader @ozarkthedog for your wonderful comments, and sending all of my gratitude to @imanuglywombat, my beautiful wombat queen. Your support has been priceless throughout. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. My work is my own, therefore I do not give consent for this story to be re-posted or translated to any other site. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.
You’re barely through the front door one dreary Monday evening when your dad accosts you in the tiny hallway, his hands full with two bulging duffel bags.
You shoot him a quizzical look as you drop your backpack to the floor. “What’s going on?”
“Pack as many clothes and essentials as you can,” he instructs. “We’ve gotta move out.”
“Move out?” you repeat incredulously. “Did we miss the last rent cheque or something?”
He tries hard to school his features, almost horrified that you would suggest such a thing, and as soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them. You’re about to apologise as the older man drops the bags to the floor, turning his attention to the bureau to the left of you.
“Entire apartment block has cockroaches. Whole building is getting fumigated,” he explains, eyes trained downward as he rummages inside the small wooden dresser.
You shiver at the thought of thousands of the parasites crawling over your body before questioning, “Where the hell are we gonna live?”
“Bucky says we can stay with him.”
Your stomach feels like lead at the words, even though it makes perfect sense. Nana and Pops live too far out of town, and you still need to be close enough to school without having to catch six buses just to make it in time for the first period.
Bucky. James. Dad’s oldest and closest friend.
His house may be in the opposite direction to your school district, but it’s still the more viable option. You’d only have to get one bus this way, even if it did mean getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure you’re on it. Plus he has more than enough space to accommodate the three of you without feeling like you’re living out of each other’s pockets.
And you can’t argue with logic, despite how much you want to.
So Bucky’s house it is.
The next week passes by in a blur of belongings shoved into whatever hold-all’s and suitcases you can find. Desperate to pack as many of your clothes as possible, it doesn’t matter that you haven’t worn half of the garments in what feels like years, you never know when the occasion would call for a cute little flowery two piece and clumpy brown wedges that you can barely walk in.
The bedroom James’ housekeeper Olga has allocated to you is almost the same size as your entire apartment, and that doesn’t include the walk-in closet that leads off to the left of the queen sized bed, which in itself is bigger than your whole room at home. You can’t understand why a man who lives alone needs such a vast living quarters, but as you unpack your possessions into a pathetically small portion of the closet, you are suddenly grateful that he does.
The first night after you settle in as much as you can, James promises to give the three of you the space you need, and to treat the place as if it were your own. Predictably, Dad objects, but James won’t hear of it.
“My home will always be your home,” quotes the playboy as Dad shoots his friend daggers, remembering the same words falling from his own mouth years before. “Every amenity is at your disposal, and my staff are always on hand if you need anything.”
“We can’t ask them to do that, Buck. They don’t work for us,” Dad argues.
James lives a lavish lifestyle, one he always downplays when he comes to visit. It isn’t that he’s ashamed of his wealth, but he knows your parents are modest and never live beyond their means. He has too much respect for them to shove it in their faces.
But you always remember the one and only time your father and his friend disagreed over their financial differences. James had offered to help out when bills began to mount up after your father’s car broke down at the side of the highway, and repairs were costly. Your parents were simply too proud to take his money, and it was never spoken of again.
“But they work for me, and they do what I ask of them, and if that means waiting on hand and foot for my guests then that’s what they’ll do,” James counters quickly.
“Buck—” Dad starts, but his best friend shuts him down with a look and a casual wave of the hand.
“I’m not gonna argue about this. My word’s final.”
After that brief conversation, nothing else is said about it, and you all go about your business as usual, only coming together in the evenings at dinner. James insists you keep your family traditions while residing in his home, and after much persuasion from Dad, he joins you for mealtimes when he isn't off doing… Well, whatever it is that he does.
You can barely eat when he’s there, too distracted by his flawless appearance, even when dressed in a simple white t-shirt and grey jogging pants. And you’re thankful that you have school to take your mind off of him, because even though the house is extensive beyond your wildest dreams, he always seems to be one step behind you at every turn.
Of course you’re flattered by the attention from the older man, but when he’s right under your nose all the time, it becomes virtually impossible to think of anything else but the way you wish he would fuck you six ways from Sunday.
Wednesday morning starts off like any other, except for the first time in a week, James is nowhere to be seen as you prepare breakfast for yourself. The peace and quiet is welcoming, the elusive owner of the house absent for once, and you can enjoy the cereal and orange juice you picked out from the selection Olga had left for you.
James has always been a part of your life. A constant that never waivered, no matter how busy he became. He was part of the family. An unofficial godfather-type turned your biggest crush.
You always knew it was inappropriate, and you did your best to avoid him whenever you could. You would start to make excuses to not visit him with your dad when he’d offer. You’d try to make yourself scarce when James would swing by your home, but in the tiny apartment you shared with your parents, it was practically impossible.
He always found you sulking in your room, managing to pry out some made up lie as to why you were in such a foul mood. He usually bought the standard drama that came with teenage girls, and not wanting to pry any further, or get sucked into the politics of high school, he’d leave you alone to whimper into your mattress as you wished the pillow you were rutting against was his painfully attractive face. He would still pop by at least once a week to see your parents, but after waiting in your room for his expected interruption, eventually even those ceased.
Over time, James began to tease you for your sullen attitude. Often, you feared he knew your secret, always holding your gaze for a little too long or smirking when he’d catch you staring. Clearly your discomfort brought him joy, and that only seemed to spur him on even more.
So the thought of having to live under the same roof as him for the foreseeable future terrified but excited you.
Mindlessly, you flip through a magazine Mom had picked up at the store as you eat, not really paying attention to the articles when the vibration of your phone receiving a text against the marble counter plucks you from your daze. The sudden noise causes you to knock over the bowl of coco puffs and milk into your lap.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you curse, trying desperately to pat at the wet patch on your skirt as you hurriedly rush upstairs, well aware of time running away from you. You need to get a move on if you’re going to be ready to catch the bus to school, and in your sopping wet outfit that’s becoming less and less likely.
Barrelling into your temporary room, you manage to pick out something new in a matter of minutes, pulling on the cutesy pinafore dress over your salvaged t-shirt as you rush to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running disrupting your efforts to make it to school on time.
You knock quickly, hoping to rouse the attention of the person inside, but it fails to distract them from whistling a tune you vaguely recognise.
“Dad? Is that you?” You call out, finally placing the A Team theme song he always ends up humming, “Hurry up, I gotta go, I’m gonna miss the bus,” you add, yelling through the door, hoping that this time he’ll hear you.
Knocking again, you huff loudly in an attempt to convey your frustration, while hastily pulling on the pink knee high socks you picked out to complement your fresh change of clothes.
In the midst of bending over, and dragging the soft material up over your knee, the door finally unlocks and a billow of damp steam hits you in the face before it dissipates entirely. Tanned, muscular legs and a blanket of pure white appears through the cloud of water droplets, and it becomes apparent that your face is at the perfect crotch level.
James is naked, save for the towel that barely covers his modesty, the soft cotton hugging his lithe hips, showing off V lines that could cut fucking glass.
“And here’s me thinkin’ I’d need to work a little harder to get you in this position,” he purrs seductively as you return to standing, unable to tell if the blood rushing to your head is down to the sight in front of you or from rising up too fast.
His chest glistens like he’s smothered himself in baby oil. The moisture from the shower clings to every divot and ridge of his abs, and with his chocolate brown hair still dripping, rogue rivulets of water trickle down over his pecs and down onto his stomach, which only serves to make the image even more delectable.
While your thighs clench and your stomach twists in arousal, you’re rendered temporarily mute as you try to swallow despite the dryness in the back of your throat.
“Sorry,” James apologises, running a hand through his wet hair. “I didn’t realise I was in there for so long.”
“I, um.” You cough, clearing your throat before asking, “What’s wrong with yours?”
“I’m getting it re-modelled,” he tells you.
“Oh.” Your brow furrows a little at his explanation, but you don’t question it. “Why couldn’t you use one of the other six bathrooms in this place?”
“Five actually,” he chuckles lightly. “And I like this one best.”
“You have a favourite bathroom?”
“I wouldn’t say favourite, I just really enjoy the view from here the most.” James’ azure eyes glance over your shoulder, and you find yourself turning your head at the same time to see what he’s looking at.
The open doorway to your bedroom.
Realisation suddenly dawns on you, and the weird 'I feel like I’m being watched’ sensation you’ve been having suddenly makes sense. You should be horrified at his subtle admission, but instead, you feel your pussy clench tightly around nothing. Your entire body feels like a furnace as you glance back at him, his lips painted into a lazy, upturned smile.
“The - the view, huh?” comes your stuttered response as he steps from the doorway, narrowing the gap between you. And even though the entire hall is more than spacious to house both of you comfortably without being in each other’s personal spaces, he’s so close that you can feel the heat oozing from his body permeating yours and it makes your skin prickle in arousal.
“Mm hm,” James nods slowly.
You continue to look up at him, mouth slightly agape as your eyes flicker between his piercing blue stare to his lips— so beautifully pink and thick. Fuck, you just wanna kiss him so damn bad.
“It looks good enough to eat.” His eyes drop to your lips, his own pinched between his teeth. “Bet it’s sweet as a peach.”
A small noise escapes from your throat, knowing you’re completely and irrevocably not talking about the “view” any more. Your mind is whirring as you try to conjure up a response that isn’t just garbled, horny nonsense— something along the lines of wanting him to throw you against the wall and find out, but words fail you.
“Anyway,” James says, clearing his throat. The sound pulls you from your daydream. “Have a good day at school, kid,” he adds with a smirk before striding off down the hall, leaving a trail of damp footprints in his wake.
“We’re going away for the weekend,” Dad announces that evening at dinner.
Thank god, you internally sigh. After your encounter with James this morning, and spending the entire day wound up tighter than a bed spring, you need to put as much distance between him and you as possible. You can almost feel your face light up in glee, already babbling excitedly about getting away from these “drab four walls” when your mom intercedes gently.
“Oh no sweetie, it’s just me and your dad.” She flashes you a kind smile. “Bucky’s giving us his cabin.”
“What about me?”
“I doubt you’ll want to join us honey, it’s for our anniversary.” The couple share a loved up look, and the sickening realisation hits you.
“Oh,” you respond, “ew.”
The three adults chuckle lightly, seemingly amused by your distaste at your parents for going to spend their weekend doing it.
“So am I gonna stay at Nana and Pops?” you ask excitedly, eyes darting back and forth between them.
“Why would you when you can stay here and keep our host company,” Dad laughs.
You glance over at the man in question, and James raises his fork and eyebrow in unison, lips curled up into the same teasing grin it was this morning.
“I think he’s more than capable of finding his own company,” you mutter under your breath, but it’s still loud enough for them all to hear.
“Y/N, don’t be so rude,” Mom rebukes you softly, but James merely scoffs at your insult.
“It’s fine Ange, the kid’s right.” He smiles at you, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip as he does so. “But I’ll see to rein it in for the weekend.”
You hate that he still calls you that. And judging by the amused look tugging at his features, he knows you hate it too.
James’ attempts to “rein it in” are feeble. Your parents have only been gone a matter of hours, and he’s already preparing himself for another date, regardless of the fact he’s just returned from a “liquid lunch” two hours before.
You aren’t stupid. It’s obvious what he’s really been up to— the lingering smell of the woman’s sickly sweet perfume wafts under your nostrils as he strides past you sitting in the kitchen, hungrily nibbling at a plate of Olga’s freshly made chocolate chip cookies. You glance up through thick lashes, watching as he strides over the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water.
“She’s got a soft spot for you,” he comments, your gaze immediately drawn to his deft fingers unscrewing the cap before chucking it onto the counter next to you.
“Olga,” he affirms with a light laugh as he brings the plastic to his lips and swallows deeply. “She’s worked for me for six years now, and not once has she ever made me cookies.” He indicates the slowly emptying plate in front of you with a small tilt of his head.
“Clearly she’s fallen for my charms,” you reply nonchalantly.
“She’s not the only one,” he mutters, thinking you don’t hear him. He takes another big gulp of water, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs makes the knot in your stomach tighten. Licking your lips unconsciously, you wish you could drag it up and over his throat instead.
As he finishes drinking, he wipes away a stray droplet of water from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, eyes locked onto yours. The action is enough to make your panties flood with arousal.
“You, er, missed a spot.” You tap a finger against your neck, signifying the spot where he needs to rub away the garish crimson lipstick print staining his flawless sun-kissed skin.
He smudges the mark with his fingers, smiling wide as he pulls them away, scarlet now tainting the tips.
You can’t mask your envy, even if you tried.
It’s a little after eight thirty when James finds you in the lounge. He’s clad in expensive black Armani when he strides in, his perfectly pressed jacket hanging over his arm. He does a double take when he spots you curled up on the couch, flicking through channels trying to find something decent to watch.
“‘Kay, what’s the deal?” He asks, placing the ebony garment down on the back of the couch before flashing you a teasing smile while he fiddles with his cufflinks.
Fuck. Why is watching him do that so hot?
As you clench your thighs together, you hope he doesn’t notice the way you shift awkwardly in an attempt to create enough friction to ease the ache between your legs.
James picks up his suit jacket and puts it on, taking the time to smooth down the lapels and collar. “It’s Friday night, how come you don’t have plans?”
“Friend blew me off to hang out with her boyfriend,” you mutter, still a little put out by her cancelling on you at the last minute. You turn your attention back to the television, not wanting to let your gaze linger on just how fuckable he looks.
“And you didn’t feel like spending time with yours?”
“Don’t have one,” you say, stare flickering towards the older man momentarily. “The boys at school are jerks.”
“Boys your age barely know what to do with their dicks anyway.”
You hate to admit that he’s right. Despite the fact the last guy you got to fourth base with oozed charisma and pure sexual energy, it seemed that it was simply a well very put together act. The reality being, he had come within minutes of being inside you, while you laid there wondering if it was even in yet. The premature jizzstain then had the audacity to tell all of his friends that he took your virginity, and worse still, that you were a lousy lay.
To reiterate, boys equal jerks.
You take the time to look him up and down in scrutiny. “From what I hear, a lot of men don’t either.”
James lightly scoffs. “Oh, I’m not one of those men.”
“And I’m sure the woman who left her lipstick prints all over your neck would no doubt agree,” you reply sarcastically.
“What’s the matter kid, you jealous?” He laughs.
Your jaw tightens as you stare up at him, icy blue eyes daring you to say yes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Yet the fact you remain quiet tells James everything he needs to know, and his lips slowly curl up into a mirthful smile.
He gives you a knowing wink as he turns on his heels and confidently strides from the room with a spring to his gait, not before throwing, “Have a good night kid, don’t wait up,” over his shoulder.
God, you wanna murder him.
It’s not until you hear the sound of the engine of his Ferrari roaring to life from outside that your thoughts are pulled from your salacious fantasies— each one featuring James’ cock, and having it stuffed into any one of your available holes.
You distract yourself with mindless television for a while, until the chill of the A/C blasting across your bare skin is all you can think about. You know you should just go upstairs and put on warmer clothing, the small t-shirt and sleep shorts doing very little to stave off the cold, but the thought of traipsing up all of those stairs suddenly seems like a gargantuan effort. Unable to find a blanket anywhere, you settle for the grey sweater laying over the back of the couch, assuming it belongs to Olga, but it’s not until you pull it over your head that the faint smell of James’ aftershave engulfs your senses.
Of course it would be his.
You debate taking the item of clothing off, however almost as soon as the softness and warmth of the material strokes over your skin, you decide against it. His scent is distracting at first, but eventually it becomes a comfort and you find yourself snuggling into it as you climb back into the seat you had moulded within the leather couch.
Somehow three hours pass, and your stomach loudly gurgles as a pizza commercial starts up, reminding you that you haven’t had anything substantial to eat since the cookies Olga left. For a moment your heart leaps, hoping there are still some left before you remember that you had already eaten them all after catching the leftover lipstick marks on James’ perfect fucking neck.
You wonder where else she’s marked him with that slutty store-bought claret, and as you start to descend back into unwanted envy, you force yourself up from the couch in search of food.
You feel like an intruder in the house, rummaging through the cupboards for any kind of snacks you could nibble on while you pick out a movie to watch. And even though James gave you express permission to help yourself to anything, you still feel like you’re stealing when you manage to get your hands on a box of microwaveable popcorn.
As you watch the timer count down, the familiar sugary sweet smell fills the vast kitchen, and your stomach begins to cramp and growl, desperate for sustenance as you hear the front door slam shut.
Olga wasn’t due back until early morning, and James would surely be home even later than her, the heady stench of sex accompanying him. Holy shit, were you being broken into? Should you call the cops?
No, he had a state of the art security system surrounding the entire property. Nobody would be getting within two miles of this place without some kind of silent alarm triggering.
You freeze in place, internally arguing with yourself about whether to call out to the unknown person when James suddenly appears in the doorway, looking only a little dishevelled.
“Ah, so you’re the popcorn thief,” he jests, walking towards you.
“One bag hardly counts,” you retort flippantly.
“Yeah, yeah tell that to the cops.” He smirks, stepping up to the counter, and empties his pockets onto the marble. Cell, wallet, keys, condoms…
Well, you suppose you can’t blame him for always being prepared, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy from bubbling in your chest.
The microwave beeps and you quickly open it to allow the rising steam to escape, waiting a few seconds for it to dissipate before reaching inside for the bulging paper bag.
“So, what happened to your date?” you ask, aloof.
James scrunches up his nose, letting out a small laugh as he reaches over for a handful of popcorn that you’re in the middle of pouring into the bowl in front of you. Just the way his fingers curl around the puffed up kernels makes your skin prickle with heat, wishing they were flexing inside you. You discard the bag, thankful for the moment to look away.
“Paid for her Uber,” he shrugs. “Figured I had someone better waiting for me here.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Who, Olga?”
James slowly rounds the counter, his cobalt eyes never leaving you as he comes to stand in front of you. He’s so close you can easily reach out and touch him, but your hands remain at your sides, waiting for him to react first.
“Baby girl, we both know I don’t wanna fuck my housekeeper.”
He steps forward, finally closing the small gap between you as the noise that escapes you at the new pet name is incoherent. James stares down at you, pupils widening as he sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip.
“That my sweater?” he asks softly. Your cheeks grow hot at his questioning.
“Yeah, sorry, I was cold,” you explain, giving each sleeve a tug as you begin to shimmy out of it, but James’ voice stops you.
“Don’t.” He licks his lips devilishly. “It looks good on you.” You squirm at his compliment, unsure of how to respond. “You’d look better in less though.”
His comment tethers you to the spot, and for a moment you’re both frozen, simply staring at each other.
Is he really saying what you think he’s saying?
It’s almost as if all other sound has been sucked from the room, apart from the steady thump of blood pounding in your ears.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.
You break the silence first with a shaky, “I should—” as you point towards the lounge, yet you make no attempt to move. James nods like he’s giving you permission to do so, but as you begin to take a step back, he suddenly reaches for the sweater, grabbing the grey material with a tight fist.
In a flash, he’s pulling you towards him and his lips are crashing heavily over yours.
He tastes like expensive champagne and whiskey with hints of sweetness from the popcorn cutting through the bitterness, tongue deliciously wet and hot as it explores yours while low growls emit from his chest. The deep, gravelly vibrations make your lips tingle as they move down your body, settling thickly in your core.
As you relax into the kiss, James’ grip around the sweater loosens, and his hands find their way to the backs of your thighs, giving your bare flesh a small tap. You almost jump into his arms, wrapping your legs tight around his waist.
You can barely breathe through the force of his kisses, each one more desperate and fervid than the last. His fingers press hard into your skin as he maneuvers you away from the kitchen, the popcorn long forgotten. Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly on the roots as he carries you to the couch, getting off on the sound of James moaning into your mouth.
You’re already pawing at his tie and the buttons on his shirt, stripping the black fabric from his chest when he places you down on the couch. As soon as your ass meets the leather, James is already knelt between your spread thighs, his hands everywhere. Your lips part temporarily as he yanks the sweater off over your head, eyes widening at the sight of your nipples clear through your t-shirt before his mouth captures yours hungrily once more.
It’s all teeth and tongue— messy. A fiery culmination of all the months of tension between you. He kisses you like he’s trying to devour you, and you reciprocate by doing the same in return.
There’s no time to cherish his body, or allow him to worship yours. You need him. Now.
As you work the zipper of his suit pants open, James makes light work of your shorts and panties. He pulls away from the kiss, tugging the fabric quickly down your legs before humming appreciatively at the sight of your bare cunt.
He moves back in to kiss you, but instead of doing so, he lets his lips brush yours delicately, breath hot on your cheek. His hands glide up your thighs, and as he reaches your core, the tips of his fingers smooth through your folds, coating them liberally with slick. The contact makes you whine.
“You sure you’re not jealous, baby girl? Because you’re fuckin’ wet for someone who claims they’re not into me,” he whispers against your lips, letting out a deep, hushed laugh.
“I never said— fuck!” You groan as his finger breaches your heat until he’s knuckle deep, curling it upwards as he does so.
“Yeah? You like that?” he teases softly, pushing in another. “How ‘bout this?”
Your entire body tightens as he holds them still, bright cerulean staring down at you, his lips puffy and swollen from your kisses. All you want him to do is move. Canting your hips slightly as you give him a reluctant nod, James’ lips split into a wide grin.
“There ya go.”
His fingers retreat slowly before plunging them back inside you. You cry out, grabbing onto his biceps to keep you steady as he begins to fuck you open, a litany of damp praises tumbling from his lips on a loop. You writhe on his fingers, the warmth in your belly coiling tighter with each drive and retreat, feeling your climax teetering in the distance, the threat of it blooming into something explosive.
“Fuck, you should see the mess you're makin’ of my couch, baby girl,” James observes with pride, tongue resting heavy on his lips as he concentrates his stare between your spread thighs. “C’mon, show me that tongue,” he adds in a whisper, the tone of his voice contradictory— all rough and gravelly.
You part your lips slowly and stick it out.
As his fingers retreat, leaving you wanting and bereft, you whine at the loss. He shoves them into your mouth, muting your mewls as the sweet tangy arousal lays thickly on your tongue.
Closing your lips around the intrusion in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks like you’re sucking dick. James stares at you, marvelling at the sight of you licking his fingers clean.
“Get my cock out,” he orders.
Your hands work fast to free him of the confines of his underwear, and when your fingers finally curl around his hard length, you blanch a little at the size. You stroke up his shaft, chest swelling with pride as James growls deeply, his next command causing the heat in the pit of your stomach to twist and tighten.
“Get those fuckin’ knees up. Show me that pretty pussy.”
You fall back against the couch cushions, and curling your arms around your legs as you roll onto your side, you bring your knees to your chest, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to him. James shuffles up behind you, cock poised in his hands as he teases the head through your folds.
Even though there’s no need for prep, a strained whimper still falls from your lips as he edges forward into your wet heat, his hefty girth stretching you wide. When your eyes scrunch closed at the intense pressure, he’s careful to stop and check you’re alright.
“It’s just so…” you gasp, feeling him slide in another inch, “big.”
James laughs softly at the compliment, and retreats a little.
“No no, don’t stop,” you reassure him, grabbing his forearm to coax him closer. He follows your instruction, driving further inside you with a low groan as his hips finally meet your ass. You let go of a strained cry at the impossibly deep angle.
He begins to move back and forth, each drag of his cock hitting every pressure point inside you as his thrusts quicken until the sound of skin slapping skin fills the vast lounge, mixed with your heady moans for James to fuck you harder.
“That’s it baby girl,” he coos, pulling back to stare in awe where you conjoin. “Wish you could see your greedy little cunt swallowing up my cock.”
James reaches between you, his fingers toying with your pussy lips, and parts them a little more, eyes lighting up as he watches himself disappear back inside you.
He slides his fingers up, swapping them out to sweep his thumb over your clit. Immediately you clench around him, feeling heat pooling in your core as he circles your bead with expert precision.
“Fuck, you’re soakin’ me.”
You know. You can feel it coating his cock each time he drives back inside you. Can feel it dripping out of you, and down onto the stupidly expensive leather below you. James continues to praise you throughout, his thumb ceasing to let up its ministrations as he coaxes you closer and closer to euphoria.
“C’mon, come for me baby girl,” he urges, shifting his thumb a millimetre to the right just as his cock brushes over a particular spot inside you. “Come for me.”
“Oh g-god, I’m gonna—”
The words die on your tongue as you explode. Rushes of heat and pleasure fill your veins, and you tense under the weight of your delirium, teeth pulling painfully at your bottom lip as you come harder than you ever thought you possibly could.
It’s not until your vision re-focuses that you notice James staring down at you, a lazy smirk painted across his lips as he fucks you.
“What… are you… so happy about?” you question breathlessly between thrusts.
“Always thought about what you would look like having an orgasm,” he chuckles lightly as he reaches for your ankles and pulls your legs roughly apart.
Rolling over onto your back, you groan at the new depth, eyes rolling as you swear you feel him in your stomach. “Now you don’t have to just think about it.”
“Now I can just remember what it feels like to have you squeezin’ ‘round my dick.”
You clench at his words, pride filling your chest as his eyes flutter closed at the sensation so you do it again. “Hm, like this?”
“Fuck baby girl, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that,” he breathes.
You tense around his length once more, smirking up at him this time, enjoying the sight of him losing his composure.
“Please James,” you plead, biting down on your lower lip, unsure of what you’re really asking him for.
He grunts. “Love it when you say my name like that.”
“James,” you purr, which only serves to make his hips snap harder. “Oh god, you’re gonna make me come again.”
“Yeah?” he smirks proudly.
“Mm hm,” you squeak. “Want you to come with me. Fill up my pretty little pussy.”
“Shit, you are a dirty girl, aren’t ya?”
You nod, pushing your feet harder down into the couch, angling your hips up so he can drive in even deeper. You’re trembling again before you know it, surrendering entirely to your orgasm as James growls, hissing your name through his teeth as he spills into you, his seed warming you from the inside out.
Once his hips stutter to a stop, he collapses on top of you, leaving a trail of tiny pecks across your collarbone. Eventually, he leans back up on his palms, and gazes down at you in complete adoration.
“Sorry about the mess,” you apologise with a little giggle when he pulls out, feeling his seed dribble down through your folds and onto the couch below you.
“It’s fine.” He places a sloppy kiss on your lips, laughing at the look of horror on your face as he jokes, “I’ll just send your Dad the dry cleanin’ bill.”
WDNA: @aquariusbarnes @my-divine-death @nastybuckybarnes @maeve-writes @teishalicious @dreamlessinparis @beautifulrose0809 @buckysdxll @mollyscoffe45 @j-j-ehlby-writes @lowercasegenius @syrenavenger @couldabeenamermaid @sagechanoafterdark
Bucky: @andreasworlsboring101 @adreamemporium @cake-writes @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @sammykb1994 @smokeandnailz @syntheticavenger @vicmc624
ALL SS: @chamberofsloths @imanuglywombat @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @jensenswinchester @la-cey @livstilinski @otomefromtheheart @starlightcrystalline @sharp-cheekbones-locked @saiyanprincessswanie@sunwardsss @threeminutesoflife @xoxonotme
Forever: @amandamdiehl @becs-bunker @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @danneelsmain @dandywinchesterbras @doctor-hp-mcu @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @downanddirtydean @foxyjwls007 @gayasslookinass @hoewkeye @heyyouwiththeassbutt @hoboal87 @ilovefanfic86 @jewelswrites-ish @joseyrw @letsby @letsdisneythings @mogaruke @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @pinkshenanigan @princessmisery666 @rattwritesfics @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @stoneyggirl @that-one-gay-girl @warriorqueen1991 @wonder-cole @xoxabs88xox @zooaliaa
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Okay, I know that this will be a blip in the spn tag, but I. Don’t. Care.
My theory: Chuck is inside Jack’s body.
Let. Me. Explain.
Okay, so Chuck can see the future. All possibilities, all realms. Free Will exists and he hates it, but he still knows it can happen.
So what does he do? He plans contingences.
He’s up against the Winchesters. Boys he specifically created to do the impossible. He knows that the 1 in a billion chance that they succeed is an actual possibility. He sees everything. Dean, Sam, and Jack are literally the only beings still left in existence. He must have noticed Jack sucking up life force. He KNOWS that Jack can replace him. So what does he do?
Chuck infuses his God power with his personality.
Amara’s depressed, she’s not doing anything to stop him. Heck, we have precedent with Amara that Chuck is powerful enough to absorb and dominate an equally powerful being. (Which we have not seen that Jack is).
The boys don’t know. Cas is dead. No one will be able to tell.
So Chuck has his fun kicking the boys around and when Jack absorbs his power, he’s actually welcoming a parasite. Chuck takes over Jack while leaving just an iota of his personality behind to power his previous body.
The boys are clueless and Jack does not have enough power to fight back. Chuck is in control.
That’s why Jack does not go back to the bunker! Why he’s content to keep his aunt locked away in his mind!
That’s why Castiel remains in heaven instead of coming back to earth!
That’s why Dean dies on a freaking rusty nail!
Chuck wanted his ending. He’s passing as Jack just enough that people don’t suspect. He’s drinking up the irony of Castiel unable to be with Dean, because he is helping “Jack” rebuild heaven. And Chuck is going to put John riiiight over there just to rub in some salt in Dean’s wounded soul.
The boys, Cas, and the rest of them think that free will won. But no.
If Dean doesn’t want Chuck’s apple pie life, then he’ll die as daddy’s little instrument.
If Sam didn’t want to stay in hell content in the knowledge he saved his brother, well then he’ll live hell on earth constantly reminded how he couldn’t save Dean.
If Cas wanted Dean to live freely, well too bad boo. You ruined my story.
Chuck’s still writing the story. And The Winchesters don’t even know it.
TLDR: 15x20 was Chuck’s ending because Chuck took over Jack’s body when Jack absorbed his divine power.
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Hi! IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED SEASON 2 STOP READING THIS REQUEST. (I don't wanna give spoiler).
However, if you have, can I request a JJ imagine. Where instead of Kiara going into the sewers to find the murder weapon you do. But, you almost die like Kiara. When they get you out of the sewer JJ is all comforting and holding you in his arms while he calms you down.
Thank you so much 💕
Storm Drain || JJ Maybank
Summary → You go into the storm drain to try and find the weapon Rafe used to kill the Sheriff.
AN → OBX2 SPOILERS
Pairing(s) → JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Warnings → Strong Languge, Potential Drowning, Gun
Word Count → 1.0k
It was dark and cramped, the water coming up to your knees and coated in a grey and murky filth. It smelled like trash and dirty rain water, a thick substance dripping from the walls of the the inside of the storm drain.
The gun had to have washed somewhere deeper than the tunnel, you’d clambered through the tiny space easy enough and hadn’t seen anything. The boys were back at the entrance, yelling down to you from the swampy area everything washed out into.
“I’m not kidding, you guys owe me for life!” You shouted to them, grimacing as you sunk down into the grime and felt around for the murder weapon. “I’m seriously gonna fucking vomit.”
JJ and Pope were too worried about some dick eating parasite, forcing you to do the literal dirty work. They weren’t much help from so far away, so you figured it was up to you to sift around the trash until you found the gun. Hopefully you didn’t shoot yourself in the foot during the process.
“Everything alright down there, Y/N?” JJ yelled to you. “Did you find it yet?”
“Obviously fucking not, J!” You responded, “I’m literally swimming around in garbage and—oh my fucking god, there’s something dead down here!”
Something washed up above the surface, it was either a very large animal carcass or someone’s arm and you had no desire to find out. Pope started screaming down the shoot, asking what it was and where it was. Before you could say anything, you felt the water beginning to rise as more of it began to slush by your waist at the ladder.
“Guys!” You screamed to them. “Guys, the water is filling up in here, I can’t get out!”
“Y/N!” You could just barely hear JJ’s voice. “Y/N, you need to get the fuck out of there like now!”
You moved your foot to the side, feeling it hit something hard in the process and before the water reached your torso, you sunk to the ground and felt around the sewer floor. Pulling the gun out of the water, you felt a surge of water hit you and began to seriously panic. Slipping the gun into the back waistband of your jean shorts, you climbed the ladder and began pushing ferociously at the circular drain.
It wouldn’t budge.
“JJ, help me!” You choked out, the water reaching your chest and the current of it fast and filling the small space quickly.
“Y/N, we’re coming! Don’t worry, we’re coming!”
They both hardly escaped the shock of running water, slipping onto the grass and beginning to run down the street towards the drain you were screaming out of.
“What if she didn’t get the gun?” Pope yelled to him, trying to get over to where you were stuck.
“Man, fuck the gun!” JJ concluded, basically sliding onto the cement and trying to rip the cement channel you were under.
The water was nearly to your shoulders, hardly able to breathe and feeling your heart through every pulse point in your body. A minute or two longer and you would be submerged, the boys were trying to pull up on the grates, but it wasn’t moving and you were pushing as hard as you could.
“Help!” You shouted, feeling the water close over your head.
JJ broke his switch knife trying to drive it between the cement, knuckles splintered and white as he and Pope tried to rip it from the ground. With hardly anymore will to hold onto the ladder, you heard the give and felt yourself being pulled out of the water and onto the street. You fell into the grasp, coughing up water and feeling yourself nearly throw up.
“Y/N!” JJ shouted to you, arms wrapped around your waist as his back pressed against the ground. “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m not!” You coughed into his chest, heaving up any leftover water and collapsing on top of him. “I could fucking kill you both.”
This seemed to send a shock of relief through JJ because he lifted you both into a sitting position and held you close to his chest for a moment before saying anything. You didn’t even want to know how much you smelled like garbage. He didn’t seem to care, though. Rocking back a forth, you relaxed into him and took deep breaths.
“You’re good,” he said. “Fuck, I thought you were gonna die.”
“Tell me about it, Sherlock,” you rolled your eyes. “Besides, what would you dipshits do without me?”
Pulling the gun out from your shorts, you held it up in the air with a triumphant grin and watched Pope breathe out in relief and astonishment. JJ only sat in awe, tackling you onto the ground again.
“You found the gun!” Pope shouted.
“Fuck yeah, I found the gun! And like I said, you both owe me for life,” you looked over at Pope first. “I’d like to start collecting on the debt with tonight’s geometry homework.”
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Sukuna w/Yuji’s gf » ReaderxSukuna
You actually knew Yuji prior to the whole “eating a cursed finger gaining god powers” deal
For a while really, you’d both been in school together since primary so it wasn’t a surprise by high school you were both dating
Everyone knew you would ewe high school sweethearts
But you loved Yuji and there wasn’t another person you’d ever think about spending your life with
This wasn’t exactly a person per say
nsfw under the cut » » »
You and Yuji were both sexually active before *gestures at everything* this all happened
Yuji was a good lay and there way no lie there boy has big dick energy just exuding from his stupid cute face
There wasn’t anything you couldn’t and wouldn’t talk to him about he was the perfect bf!
Then. Sukuna happened
No lie here, he’s fucking terrifying to be alone in a room with
Yuji wouldn’t even let you be alone with him after it all happened
It wasn’t until Yuji and Sukuna came to an agreement about the shared body that Yuji finally let some normal happen again, like you to staying the night together when you came to visit
No fucking in dorms yeah ok no one’s listening
Just as open as you were to Yuji about your slight worry over Sukuna, so was the mouthy curse living inside your bf
Sukuna made it clear even as a parasitic curse might that he wasn’t fond of you
One woman? Oh no he needed like, one hundred.
And you were so boring and jus such at-
Yuji was apologetic of his issue but what can you do
You worried less about the literal god inhibiting your bf and chalked it up to like an annoying toy dog who you live with
With little concern for Sukuna as time went on, things between you and Yuji went pretty much back to normal
This includes sleeping, in the nude
You were pressed up against Yuji, two something in the morning, half awake even
When you feel something
But not a lazy hand over your side like it were Yuji
This hand was tucked up against your ass cheek, squeezing and massaging you with more than just a firm touch
Thinking it’s Yuji trying to be sexy, you roll over eyes half lidded to kiss your bf when-
That’s not your bf
Sukuna is laying behind you with just the most conceded cocky grin
“What a compromising position to find yourself in, woman.”
Before you can push away or scream, Sukuna has you in his embrace and pressed bare back against his chest. Lips to your ear it’s hard for you not to shiver when they brush along your neck line as he inhales deeply and brings them to your ear
A hushed growl that ignites something in our core without hesitation
“Watching you two grew boring. And with this body-”
Sukuna wouldn’t lie his vessel had a physical prowess he appreciated
“You should be fucked into oblivion if you dare lay with me”
You try to pry away, fear twanged with the fateful arousal between your legs
This was still Yuji’s body. He looked like Yuji. He smelled like Yuji. But the way he handled you, pressed into you like he could snap you in a second
It wasn’t Yuji
Before you really can do anything about it the inquisitive curse who proclaimed to hate you now his his tongue down your throat with his hands changing between grouping your chest and rubbing the slickness between your legs
For something that proclaimed to hate you, he’s quite excited
Evident with the excitement rubbing against your ass
Did I mention Sukuna defiantly has a breeding kink?
Oh I didn’t?
Yeah no he has you impaled on his cock the second he got tired of your juices dripping all over his hand
Rutting against you with the deepest strokes, fuck you’re pretty sure he’s slowly splitting you in two with the way he’s fucking you
No real regard to how you’re positioned, Sukuna has you against his back, one leg in the air, hand around your throat while he fucks you into the mattress
By the time you’ve inadvertently came like three times, he’s just getting started
Loosing yourself on his cock is actually pretty amusing really, Sukuna might not hate you
While he keeps you on the brink of sanity fucking the life out of you like there’s 1000′s of years of pent up sexual frustration
No how hard you beg for a breather or to stop (bc is this cheating? you’re not sure but you’re pretty sure your pussy won’t be the same after Sukuna is done with you) he keeps going
When and if Sukuna decides he’ll give you a little gift
It turns into a huge gift
Filling you to the brim with cum
If you knew it wasn’t physically possible then you’d swear your belly just got bloated with his cum
Phew ok he came he must be done and Yuji will be back right?
Nope, Sukuna has 1000s of years to make up for, and maybe you aren’t as boring as he thought you are ;)
A/N: Ok well that got outta hand! Sukuna is just such a bastard but like in such a fuckable way what can I say. To the anon who requested it, I hoped you liked it!
Is there someone else you’re thirsting over? Send em in!
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okay so maybe this is sort of MY hc but plz plz feel free to expand, i wanna hear what you think ab this.
so some days, the cadou fucking HURTS. karl aches and he can't do anything about it??? bc it's literally in his nervous system??? so his bones ache and he can't do anything about it. some days it's a dull ache and some days it's just dehabilitating. reader tries their best to help on those days, making sure he eats, giving him massages, cuddles, etc??? maybe it even makes him sick too, like a cold or a virus would for puny humans like us. like i just think hurt/comfort is 🥰neat🥰
I do be loving hurt/comfort ✨
Guess what? Another drabble, y'all are being spoiled today:
The Cadou was the first thing he'd ever explained to you; the expanse it took over him, the powers it gave him, what it made him into.
What he spared was the way it had quite literally taken over his body; the aches, pains, the days he spends with a bucket by his side when his body sends surges through him that makes him convulse until he spews.
And right now, with a wet rag across his forehead and a hand squeezing yours, you can't help but feel pitiful. Small.
There was nothing you could do except watch him slowly fall apart again; there wasn't anything that could stop the parasite in his system that was slowly eating him from the inside.
You pulled back quickly as he rolled onto his side, gripping the edge of the bed as another groan pulled from his throat; watching him spit into the newly emptied bucket below.
You felt like you could cry, your throat dry and taught as he rolled back against the mattress; eyes closed and neck tight as his hands found grip in the sheets, his body twitching against the bed.
"Mm.." he swallowed, eyes hard against yours as another surge trilled through his body. "I'm...I'm okay, doll. It h.."
He rose up from the bed quickly, your hand grabbing the handle below to push the bucket below him as the twitches in his back trailed his spine.
"I don't know what to do.."
"huh..you usually do.." his hands gripped the sides, head hanging low as his hair fell in his face. Your hands brushed them from his cheeks, pulling back.
"What do you want me to...to do.." you sat on the edge of the bed, your forehead resting against his skin; it felt hot, boiling against your cool skin. You could only imagine what it felt like for him.
"I..." He spits, "I just need you here.."
"Im not going to leave, I promise..." your voice was soft, lips pressed against his skin.
"I...I know.." one arm slowly wrapped around you, pulling you close as your cheek rests against him.
He embraces you like that, nails digging into the skin to try to keep you there; scared you'd leave him alone to face it all.
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A yandere that is purely a psychic entity. Just something that exists in your head and talks to you, toys with you. It can't completely possess you but they can mess with your emotions and your perceptions of things just enough that they might as well. You don't know where they came from or really want they want besides a hollow, one-sided """friendship"""". It makes you destroy your life and destroy yourself and destroy those around you and convinces you that they had nothing to do with it. You only ever talk to them, you only ever do what they tell you.
tw - isolation, emotional/psychological abuse, possession, nonconsensual touching (nonconsensual masturbation?), implied murder.
A yandere who's more than content to destroy you from the inside out. They don't want to hurt you, necessarily, and they'd absolutely hate to make you miserable, but they don't want to share you, either. They just don't think anyone else deserves to be with you, not as much as they do. It's not like anyone could ever know you better than such a vocal part of yourself, after all.
You can't get rid of them. You've tried before - saw therapists, hypnotists, doctors and psychologists and psychics, but no amount of medication or meditation or expensive, fragrant essential oils can ward off the little voice in the back of your head, teasing you for your desperation and assuring you that they'd never let such minor inconveniences drive them away from you. They say that they like to keep you company, that they want to stay by your side and this is the most efficient way to do it, and they laugh when you try to explain how frustrated you are, how much they're getting in the way of your day-to-day life, how little you actually want the companionship they claim to be here to provide. It's not difficult to work around them, not beyond an occasional migraine and a few intrusive thoughts, but they're impossible to ignore. They're in your head, literally. There's nothing you can do to block them out.
And then, they start 'borrowing' your body. They had, before, taking you over for little things, making your fingers twitch, showing you what they could do if they were a little less nice, but it's easy enough to convince yourself it's just a coincidence, a muscle spasm, a sign that you are delusional and your body is just in on the joke. It's harder to brush off the bruises on your arms, the nail-marks on your thighs, the pictures you find on your phone of yourself, always in the dark, always in a position that's... compromising, even if you'll be the only one to ever see their amateur art project. You know they talk to people, your friends, your family, making phone calls and sending messages and leaving you to desperately try to explain why you told your closest friend you never want to talk to them again the night before. You've tried telling them to stop, before, that you want them gone, that you hate them, but it never goes well for you. For everything they put you through, they're rather sensitive. They don't take kindly to being called a parasite, like they've ever done anything but try to be close to you.
And, if the blood staining your hands when you wake up the next morning is anything to go by, it's not an insult they can let go unpunished.
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Random Karl hcs (sfw) (may also include x reader)
⚒ If he had a Youtube channel it's a grab bag of metal working videos, pranking Alicia, and Reddit readings. His favorite is inceltear because he likes to make fun of their fucked up vocabulary and worldview
⚒ Because of Miranda's influence, he's deathly afraid of any kind of surgery. Scalpels and medical equipment go haywire at the very mention of it, whether it be him or you going under. If it's you, he won't leave the surgery room at all. He'll stay in the background, full suited up, but he isn't leaving. If it's him....its best to put him out before you get to the hospital. Otherwise it will be EXTREMELY DANGEROUS for everyone involved.
⚒ The village didn't have many medical resources, and the village didn't see many contagious diseases due to Miranda's influence, (no one knows how she did it). But when he's finally out of that hell hole.... He gets really sick, real easy. The Cadou is better at healing physical problems, damage from outside sources or causes, than it is with biological ones. That and living with a parasite inside your body for god knows how long won't do your immune system any favors.
⚒ You're definitely gonna have to go with him to get him vaccinated. The idea initially freaks him out, (mainly the needles) but he starts to understand how important it is when he's LITERALLY bedridden for a week after getting a cold. And yes, he gets stickers and a lollipop.
⚒ Honestly, when kids see this huge ass dude in the waiting room to get his vaccines all nervous, they're like .0.!! And he's like, "yeah, I don't really like needles either, but it keeps ya healthy, and...being sick really sucks so...yeah."
⚒ Definitely watches shows like "how its made"
⚒ He and angie are tied for biggest memelord of the family
⚒ He is that one fucking guy who WILL ask you to do the neckbeard/body pillow couple costume for one Halloween
⚒ HE LOVES HOLIDAYSSSSSSSSSS
⚒ Even tho he knows Santa isn't real he gets a picture of himself sitting in Santa's lap and he has the biggest smile on his face its adorable
⚒ He starts a "Halloween babysitting program" where he'll take the neighborhood kids out trick or treating but it's really a front so he can do it too. Man gets dressed up and everything.
⚒ If he's giving out candy he's got three bowls. One full of normal fun size stuff, one of shitty candy, and a huge bowl of full sized good candy. People who actually dress up get fun size, people who don't (or dress as vampires) get the shit candy, and the kids with the really creative costumes (or dress like werewolves and robots) get the full sized candy bars. He doesn't take criticism on how he gives out candy.
⚒ Likes going to the store, taking pictures of stuff and then recreating them at home with his own flair to it
⚒ Has and will make a killer roomba (and not just taping a knife to it, like it's got a fucking chainsaw tucked away in that tiny ass motherfucker)
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In Case You Don’t Live Forever
~chapter one rewritten~
Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader
Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy
Masterlist and Series Masterlist
“Married?” You squeaked as your eyes grazed over the words on the card a hundred times without retaining any of the information. As you momentarily forgot how to even read, you had to rely on the words coming out of Andy’s mouth.
“Yes, uh, married.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dani and I are getting married over the summer.”
The awkward silence filled the air, suffocating the three of you, but you didn’t care. You were still staring at that damn card. That damn card that said your ex boyfriend was getting married to another girl.
“Married.” You repeated, at a loss for words.
“You said that already, dumbass.” Venom chimed in, telepathically. You rolled your eyes and kicked the bench, signaling to her to quiet down.
“Yeah.” He said again. “I know we’re young, but I’m sure about her. She’s the love of my life.”
“Wow. Good for you.” You faked a smile as you stared at the invitation. “It’s Uh, it’s a lot to take in.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you in person. I figured it would be better than you randomly getting the card in the mail and finding out that way.” Andy explained.
“Our hero.” Venom snarled, so you pinched your leg to send her the message to be quiet.
“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m glad you told me.” You lied as your eyes finally processed something on the card.
“You’re getting married on August 10?” You asked, finally tearing your eyes away from the invitation to look at him. He looked good, you had to admit. His curly brown hair was cut shorter than usual and he was still wearing his police uniform.
“Bright and early. I chose that day because-“
“Because it’s your parents anniversary. I know.” You cut him off, a little sharply.
“I’m sorry if this is awkward.” He frowned. “I understand if you’re too hurt to come.”
“It’s fine. We were together and now we’re not. Besides, I’m really happy for you and Dani. She really helped me get back on my feet when Venom and I first bonded. I like her. And if you want to marry her on that day, then go ahead.” You said, and you meant it. You did like Dani. You’d like her more if she wasnt dating the love of your life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.
“You’re lying. We want him back. He looks so juicy and delicious.” Venom said. You choked on your saliva for a moment at her words and Andy was quick to pat your back.
“You alright?” He asked. You nodded and made a mental note to have a domestic conversation about boundaries with Venom when you got home.
“I’m fine. And anyways, I’ve uh, I’ve moved on.” You lied, adverting your eyes so he wouldn’t catch on.
“What? No we haven’t?” Venom didn’t grasp the social cue.
“You have?” Andy asked, seemingly taken aback.
“No! We love you!” Venom growled in your head.
“Yep. I’m in a deeply committed and loving relationship.” You nodded as you looked anywhere but at him. It wasn’t a total lie. You were technically in a relationship with Venom, though be it a host/parasite kinda deal.
“What’s he like?” Andy wondered, looking pissed off all the sudden.
“They’re great. They’re, uh…tall. Super, super tall.” You began to describe Venom. So far, it was all true. Venom was 7’6 in her final form.
“They’re black, like yourself, and they’ve got this big, beautiful smile.” You could feel yourself cringing internally as you painted the picture for him.
“You think our smile is beautiful?” Venom teased you.
“And they just always have my back. They’re my ride or die, you know? If I didn’t have them, I’d be dead. Literally.” You finished. Also true. If you and Venom ever got separated, you would both die. Andy was looking off into the distance, sucking his teeth before nodding again.
“That’s nice.” He said, but his tone didn’t sound like he thought it was nice.
“I’d literally die.” You repeated to fill the awkward silence.
“I get it.” He deadpanned.
“Like, I’d freaking perish.”
“Alright.” He held up his hands and you stopped.
“So, do you think you can come?” He brought the conversation back to him, something he was good at.
Of course you could come. What else would you be doing? But you were just getting back on my feet after losing your job and a wedding might be too much too soon. You were at rock bottom before you found Venom. Well, before you found each other. That was nearly a year ago, but that day came back in flashes every now and then...
“You’re seriously breaking up with me? Over a job?” You asked as you followed Andy out of the police station. You were under the impression that he had just been fired because of the files you took from his computer. Classified files on local businessman Carlton Drake and the people he had killed with his experiments, of course.
“Yeah, I am.” He snapped. “I’m done with you.”
“Can’t we talk about this?” You pleaded as you followed him down the street.
“Okay.” He stopped, looking angry. “Do you want to talk about how you embarrassed me in front of my precinct? I just got yelled at in front of my all my coworkers because of you and your greed. You used me for your stupid show.”
“I wasn’t being greedy.” You insisted, ignoring that he called your job stupid. “You had the information on Carlton Drake and I needed it to make an accusation. He’s killing people! He’s a bad guy, Andy. And I write about and report bad men. That’s my job. I didn’t know that looking at your files would get you fired.”
Andy put his hands on his hips and looked around, suddenly sheepish.
“I wasn’t fired.” He mumbled.
“What?” You switched from upset to confused. “Then why are you angry?”
“I was demoted to traffic duty for two weeks because of you.” He pointed an angry finger at you and you almost laughed.
“I’m sorry, wait.” You compared yourself. “You’re breaking up with me after two years together because I got you demoted to traffic duty? Are you serious?”
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to wear that orange vest? It’s humiliating.” Andy shouted and you covered your mouth to keep from laughing. “Everyone in the neighborhood knows me and now they’re gonna know I’m on traffic duty.”
“People know you?” Your eyes widened at how dense he was being. “Andy, I’m a local celebrity. I had a whole show on YouTube that I was just fired from. Actually fired. You’re just a police officer who was demoted.”
“To traffic duty.” He repeated, as if it was suddenly worse.
“I know!” You snapped before calming down. “Are we really over? Just because of one mistake?”
“You used me.” He shrugged. “I can’t trust you.”
You stared at him as he walked over to you, never breaking eye contact as he took his key off your key ring.
“We’re over.” He hissed before turning around and walking away.
“Y/N?” Andy waved a hand in front of your face, snapping you out of it.
“Oh, right sorry. Um…” You trailed off as you mulled it over. You were happy for him, but you weren’t ready to see him marry someone else. That was gonna be you guys. Of course you wanted to be at his wedding, but you wanted to be the bride.
“Actually, I cant.” You blurted, quickly thinking of a lie. “The Daily Bugle called me and offered me a job in New York. They want me to cover a story on some serial killer. I was gonna move there part time until the story is done. I’m leaving in a few weeks.”
It was partially true. The Daily Bugle did reach out to ask you to write the story, but you had planned to write it at home. News of Andy’s impending marriage was enough to drive you out of the state.
“Oh really?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”
He was never one to celebrate you, even when you were together, but his reaction seemed different now. He almost seemed surprised that you were still successful without him.
“Yea. I just finalized everything this morning.” You lied again as you wondered how you’d get a NYC apartment on such short notice. “But hey, maybe I’ll finish early and make it back in time for your big day. I mean, it’s only April. I have lots of time. How many people could this guy possible kill until August?” You joked, but Andy didn’t laugh. He never really got your sense of humor.
“That’s great Y/N.” He nodded, not much enthusiasm behind it. “Things are really turning around for you. I can’t believe you found a job and a boyfriend. I didn’t think it would happen.”
You narrowed your eyes at his condescending comment but decided to brush it off.
“Well, it did. I’m on to bigger and better things.” You cut into him a little as you stood up. “I better go. I told my partner I’d meet them for lunch. Bye!”
“Bye!” Andy called after you, still in a funk from what you told him.
You practically ran home and slid down your door once you got inside.
“Holy shit. I’m such a liar.” You grimaced and covered my face with my hands. Venom manifested herself in her snake-like form and looked at you.
“You’re not a liar if we move to New York and start dating.” She said, making you laugh.
“You have a point. In that case, will you be my girlfriend, Miss Venom?” You asked sarcastically and Venom grinned.
“You’re not really my type, but I’m willing to settle.” Venom matched your sarcasm.
“Then let’s make moving plans, baby.” You sighed. “We’re going to New York.”
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Just curious, how many shower thought (response) blogs are there? I just dived into this side of tumblr (not gonna make any posts its fun to read though) and I'm already losing my mind
Well there is
The. Literal. Sun.
S p a c e
ALL HAIL THE LIGHT
The void. It shall consume ALL.
A typewriter incase anyone wants to write their will before they die
Also some ink, not related to the typewriter
Also some words, I wonder who'll use them
A hat with no maker and a maker with no hat
The pen is mightier than the sword. It just so happens that this one is evil. Luckily I can summon multiple
Anyone order some coffee?
Ooo, an author
The literal embodiment if of fanart
A fork, nom noms
B҉ r҉ o҉ k҉ e҉ n҉
One (1) bath boi
Some M͓̽o͓̽l͓̽d͓̽ (anybody got some strong disinfectant?)
Nvm, the mold has already caused a plague (gettit?) (although user misspelled it)
Nevermind, there's already a parasite here
A denim jacket
✨ Magic ✨
*Tree poses to assert dominance*
I think popeye dropped a tin of spinch and it became sentient?
Hummus. dip tost?
Criss Cross applesauce
Wibbly wobbly Wibbly wobbly jellyo
Mmmm océan s o u p
Some poison, a great addition for my soup
Shower magpie who I haven't seen in a while
*looks at smudged writing on hand. Squints. * a raccoon
Stinky bastard man (I just had to put the two next to each other)
Becometh crab 🦀 (x2: Electric Boogaloo)
Tripod of dog
Nina i found one of your neurons (if you understand this reference, good job you)
A rotted brain, keep it away before it infects us all, I only have 2 braincells left
Did... Did someone drop their spinal cord?
The almighty binch
Water based introspection
Also a pacifier (get it because they're also called dummies and their name is dummy)
A foolish thought to say a sorry sight join the shower community (as you can tell we did Shakespeare in English so many times i pretty much can recite everything lady macbeth said)
Some edgy bastard
A person of culture I see (although obsessed with tweed for some reason)
1 Dapper boi
All smiles and sunshine
HAPPY! (why isn't there yellow 😔)
Affection (Derogatory) (I'm sorry I just felt like it)
Chaos and Order
Op is on drugs
All the F s
Get out of the shower
The horny and the simp
I take quick showers
Last responder *countdown music*
You have shower thoughts?
Your shower thoughts are stupid
Wtf shower thoughts
Another shower responder
Just shower responses... responses
NO SHOWER! only thought (×3)
Penny for your thoughts?
Hello darkness my old friend...
A Pigeon got in through the door, who left it open?
I'm feeling devious
You're looking glamorous, let's get mischievous, and polyamorous
Gay is stored in the ass
*opens door and walks through with you exaggeratedly* Fellas we got the whole LGBTQIA+ community right here
Hahaha gender go brrr
Someone who thinks it funny to clown around
Some supervillain idk
News. Literally a shower news style responses
I cannot believe that I forgot Her Greatest Majesty, the Queen. All Hail Royal
Some Phoenix Wright kinnie
What is a Dean Winchester and why does he have a tentacle fetish?
Well well well, if it ain't a homestuckian
Did someone kill/rob The Doctor or something, their TARDIS was left behind and its blocking my pretzels that I left in the shower
Mined crafts uwu
Well well well, if it ain't- *accidentally makes eye contact and is then killed by some unknown shadowy creature holding what seems to be some sort of cube of dirt*
GOTTA GO FAST
Gen Z and ready to throw hands with OP
Someone broke their space bar or something
It's time to d-d-d-d-d-dshower
The magical deity of sleepovers
DON'T FALL ASLEEP. NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU-
The muffin man genuinely left drury Lane for this
Moonlit nights on a winters day, stars glimmering gently
The fae. Just all of them. Every single one.
Crocus? (What on earth does that mean)
*sings* baba blacksheep have you any wool? Because if not you will be killed (this fits the tune perfectly. If not I have failed in everything)
The theatre itself is here... Somehow
REEEE- *epic geometry dash gameplay to DanTDM's old intro music*
Yardale, not to be mistaken for riverdale and differs to lawn ale or front porch ale or even meter ale
I'll finish this list later
It's gonna be a long one folks
I'm including a ones that haven't spoken since ages ago because
Boy howdy there's new ones tell me who I'm missing now
Please stop thank you very much this is too many i keep having to add to this any new responder must kill a responder to continue the purge shall claim y'all as I will win i recently started watching Danganronpa
Seriously though everyone after mirror must have a battle royale it's too much i doubt all of you will even last longer than today also happy birthday me -dated:28th- do you even realise what sort of commitment you've made to sell pieces of your soul for entertainment and ability to make such epic retorts each and every post?! I sacrifice many souls DAILY to be throwing such bangers into this stuff y'know?
We have a tap guys we can finally wash our hands of all the blood of our enemies
Seriously though who left the door open I don't want a Pigeon pecking at me (the mishapocalypse got them lol)
So many responders so little time before the end of the world
If I'm missing someone please tell me very thank
There are not enough colours for me to assign a different one to each person 😔 also, wtf is on there twice on purpose
WorldHealthOrganisation IS MISSING (note: you may have a joke in place of name or under a category of names)
So there's lore without me?
ALL HAIL THE LIGHT *moth noises*
Okay now there's alternate timeline versions of responders for the benefit of myself they ain't going on the list bud
There is an incorrect role play blog quotes blog and I am crying. Not of laughter. Just wiuwhdhsjhshjxjabjsjdhdjsj
If any new people join I will go back to causing shower wars for the sake of killing you all I'm done I have snapped my laptop is updating 3 times in a row
I will commit crimes.
Does being a shower responder or role-playing seem encouraging to people to join this "community"? Because I'm pretty sure it's the latter
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Fandom: Genshin Impact
Summary: You prepare a surprise for your husband.
Notes: this is so self-indulgent omg
Zhongli watched the citizens of Liyue go on about their daily lives. He felt a sense of pride rumble throughout his entire body, knowing that his efforts over the last couple thousand years have not been in vain, yet a sobering realization creeped back into his mind. Liyue did not need Rex Lapis anymore. They certainly did not need him as Zhongli, but the sentiment of staying in the nation he literally built from the ground up was nice anyway. He sighed when he noticed that the sun was beginning to set; he stood there for too long. Just as he was about to take the cor lapis and noctilucous jade he was carrying back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, he saw you heaving as you desperately tried to catch up with his long strides.
“Oh, hello, my love. I did not expect to see you here. Have you come to watch the release of the Mingxiao Lantern? I heard they have chosen the adeptus Skybracer as their-” he stopped speaking when he noticed you looking at him intently, as if you were about to say something. “Did you want to tell me something?’
“I...uh...are you busy?” you managed to ask.
“I just have to bring these to the funeral parlor and I should be free for the rest of the night, assuming that Hu Tao doesn’t give me extra work,” he tried to joke. You smiled at his uncharacteristic cheekiness and he felt like he did something incredible.
“When you’re done with work, can we meet up? I’ll leave Paimon with you and she’ll show you where to go,” you instructed. Upon hearing her name, Paimon appeared out of nowhere, like she often does. She looked more smug than usual.
“Hi, Mr. Zhongli!” she greeted.
“Hmm, you haven’t called me that in awhile. I thought you said I was a parasite to society who…lived off of other people’s credit?’”
Embarrassed, Paimon tried to defend herself, “You were! You had us pay for everything and you never brought any Mora with you, so what else would I call you?”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. He turned his attention back to you, who was observing their interaction with a fond look in your eyes.
“We should get going now, hm?” you suggested. Zhongli cleared his throat and nodded.
“Then I suppose I’ll see you later, my love,” he smiled. You got on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek goodbye.
“See you later. I love you.”
You left, not looking back, though perhaps it was a good thing that you didn’t because if you did, you would’ve seen the blushing mess that was Zhongli, who could only whisper a quiet “I love you, too”.
Paimon turned to the man, “Ooooh! Look! You’re so red!”
He smiled at his fairy-like friend and shook his head, amused at the situation.
One kiss and an “I love you” was all it took for you to make the former archon melt like putty.
Zhongli was never one to rush things, but as he walked towards his place of work, he found himself going slightly faster than usual. Paimon hummed contentedly beside him, and though he often cherished the serenity of a simple walk to work, he found himself thinking about you. Nothing else, but you, so he made quick work of his remaining duties. He carefully placed the cor lapis and noctilucous jade on the table. He grimaced as he heard the arrival of Hu Tao, but he soon grew confused when she didn’t speak, only bearing a knowing expression on her face. He didn’t know if he preferred this sudden ominousness over her usual trickster ways, but he appreciated the silence nonetheless.
“Don’t worry, there’s no extra work for you today. You can go to her now,” she said, shooing him away. How did she even know about that?
“Very...well. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hu Tao,” he bid her goodbye as he left the establishment, only to hear a faint “No, you won’t!” from inside. He then turned to Paimon, who somehow got ahold of a Come and Get It, which he knew was only available from Wanmin Restaurant. He decided not to question it and instead ask about his lover’s whereabouts.
“Hmm? Oh! Yeah, yeah! Just follow me!” his guide exclaimed before flying off to the direction of Liuli Pavilion. Zhongli knew that you probably told Paimon to stay by his side, but with the little fairy being so excitable, he also knew that that request would not go through. Luckily, he knew the entirety of Liyue by heart, and so going to the restaurant was not a difficult task. As soon as it came into view, he saw a lady outside waving at him.
“Mr. Zhongli! Over here!” Licai called out. Zhongli waved back gently to let her know that he had noticed him.
“Punctual as always, Mr. Zhongli! You’re right on time. She should be inside,” she told him giddily. Something was clearly going on and he was most definitely clueless as to what it was.
“Ah, yes. I can’t say I know what this is all for, but thank you, Licai.”
“It’s a surprise, Mr. Zhongli! One that I’m sure you’d like,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t keep you waiting. Come in, sir!”
He smiled politely at her and stepped inside. The faint smell of silk flowers lingered in the room, but he noticed something else: your own scent. The familiar fresh smell of the mint you picked almost everyday and the sweetness of pine. It was just so… you, and he was intoxicated by it. He dared to go further, but found himself frozen at the sight of you. All dressed up and nowhere to go but to him.
He took in the sight. There was a Xiao lantern above the two of you, then there were jars of fireflies placed on either side of the room. On the table were several dishes, some from Liyue, some from Monstadt. Adeptus’ Temptation and Sticky Honey Roast were in the center.
“What is all of this for, my dear?” he asked, catching your attention. You turned to him, a smile gracing your oh-so lovely face.
“It’s for you, of course!” you said so easily, not knowing what it did to him. For the first time in his very, very long life, he found himself at a loss for words.
“I mean…what’s so special about today that my darling wife has decided to surprise me with this?” he asked, taking a seat in front of you. You laughed, covering your face with your hands and his eyes lingered on your ring for a few seconds as you did so.
“Well, there really isn’t anything, but I just remembered that we never celebrated our first meeting- you can start eating by the way,” you interrupted yourself to let him know, “We always go out for our anniversary and such, but I figured today was just as special as that. Remember how Childe introduced us to each other here?”
Taking a bite of the Sticky Honey Roast, “Mmm, yes. In this very room, I met the love of my life. We didn’t know it then, did we?”
You took a bite of the Adeptus’ Temptation, “Oh! Honestly, I feel like you might’ve, Rex Lapis.”
The way you said his old name, with the adoration of one of his many worshippers and the playfulness of a lover who knew exactly what to say. He smiled and placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on the table as you ate.
“I wish I did, but as much as I will forever thank the heavens that I have fallen in love with you, it was something I did not foresee, my love,” he explained. “Thank you for coming home to me.”
You looked away bashfully, trying to hide your face from the man who so easily brought you to your knees. Zhongli laughed: the kind of laugh that he seldom showed people. It was the kind of laugh that washed away the authoritative aura he often carried around with him. It was the kind of laugh that he only shared with you, which was something you were grateful for, because you knew it was only for you. The way his eyes crinkled and his laugh echoed throughout the room did not overshadow his past as an archon. Not at all. But when such lovely music was present, you were reminded that this man was all yours. Zhongli had calmed down a few moments later, suddenly flustered because of the way you looked at him with such lovestruck reverence. He quickly realized that you probably informed Hu Tao about this dinner and so he was even more flattered by how much effort you put into this.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered. You weren’t supposed to say it out loud, because you figured he already knew that, but his reaction quickly got rid of your embarrassment.
“Ehm,” he cleared his throat, face as red as the Jueyun chilis you found on your adventures, “thank you, my love.”
Food long forgotten, you got up and walked over to his side of the table. He looked at you curiously, still blushing, only to have his curiosity be replaced with surprise when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind. He was still in his seat, so you seized the opportunity to plant a kiss on his temple. He gently placed a hand on your arm, melting in your embrace.
“My darling husband… I love you so much.”
At this, he stood up and briefly broke apart from your hug, before hugging you himself. Your face was pressed against his chest, and he felt so warm. He held you so gently like you could shatter at any moment, but it was desperate, too. He never wanted to let you go, not when he made a promise. 3,700 years of watching over Liyue was blown away by the winds of Barbatos. His days of being a god were long gone. He was only there in that moment with you as the mortal Zhongli, your husband and as Zhongli, he promised to keep you safe and to love you unconditionally as you love him in the same way. He knew this much since the day he decided to marry you. It was a silent promise set in stone.
“I love you too, my darling wife.”
Note: mm love me some geo daddy fluff
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Pregnant AU: Knightfall Part 03
Part 01/ Part 02
Emerald: So, how does it feel...
Cinder: Emerald I've had a literal creature of Destruction squirm around inside me. Alter my body, devour my flesh to make room for itself as it defiled my soul.
Emerald: Oh I guess that was sorta a stupid ques-
Cinder: This is so much worse!
Cinder: I don't believe I stuttered. My feet are swollen, I can hardly stand up. I am constantly craving odd mixtures of food while simultaneously fighting the urge to purge my stomach.
Emerald: I see.
Cinder: I can not partake in wine and my figure is utterly ruined!
Emerald: But your soul-
Cinder: Was a small price to pay for power! My waistline is not! And do you know what the worse of it is! What I absolutely, positively can not fathom most!?
Fearful Emerald: Wha-what? 😰
Cinder: I utterly adore the life inside me.
Cinder: *Eyes Narrow* No! No Aww! This parasite has somehow enacted psychological warfare on me. I adore the very cause of my ruin Emerald!
Emerald: I, I really don't know how to respond to that.
Jaune: Cindy sweetie I'm home 😁 how are you and Damien? Oh, hey Emerald.
Emerald: Hi Jaune.
Cinder: Good your here, help me up... I need to use the restroom -///-
Jaune: Sure thing honey *Helps Up*
Cinder: I also require a massage.
Cinder: And a well prepared meal.
Jaune: No problem.
Cinder: And... Other things -///-
Jaune smiled leaning in to kiss her head.
Damn you libido! 😫
Jaune: Is that a promise 😉
Cinder: You are a fool.
I will be compensated for my suffering! >///<
Emerald watched the pair walk off, seeing her powerful, threatening and near heartless leader now amble towards the restroom as her knight assisted her.
I'm terrified, confused and somehow...
Emerald: Am I jealous of Cinder or Jaune?
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Hey... It's my first time requesting here, so here goes. Could you make a scenario in which the reader and Belphie had a baby? I saw you Lucifer one and it got me wondering how it would be like with Belphie.
Without You (Belphegor x F!Reader)
WARNING (Pregnancy, Children, Babies, Slight NSFW, ANGST)
A child was the last thing he wanted, literally the last thing, it was at the very bottom of his to-do list written in the tiniest print, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t even his handwriting. He had turned you down every single time you brought it up, and it was quite easy to turn it down, finding any and every reason for you and him not to have a child together. His main reason was quite simple, and very selfish. He didn’t want to share you, not even with his own child. He wanted you all for himself, he wouldn’t have some tiny, whatever the hell it would even be, taking your time away from him. That would be unacceptable. Think of all the naps the two of you would miss out on! Ridiculous, it would just be ridiculous.
There was also a small part of him, very small due to the fact that he didn’t really worry much about it at all, but it was always in the back of his mind, of what would happen if you did try to carry his child. He was a demon, and any child by him would obviously be part him, maybe even more, he didn’t know how potent his seed was. Of course, nothing had happened yet, and he had filled your womb many times before, so that worry was shoved to the furthest part of his brain. Nothing to worry about, there hadn’t been a mistake yet, and he was 99.999% sure that there wouldn’t be any mistakes made at all.
He hadn’t been thinking ahead though, and one important thing had slipped his mind completely. Breeding Season. You hadn’t even known about it at all, he didn’t feel the need to tell you, he thought that he would be able to keep control of himself long enough to keep you safe from himself. His plan proved futile, and his animalistic nature had taken over completely. It wasn’t his fault though, it was just how he was, who he was… what he was. He, in a way, completely blacked out. You were pinned to the bed in less than a second, your clothes torn to shreds and discarded onto the floor as he completely ravaged you, slamming into you, making sure his tip pierced through your womb with each and every thrust, filling your womb over and over with his seed. By the time he was done with you, you were a bruised, crying, cum filled mess. There was no comfort afterwards, no aftercare, nothing. Just the sounds of his light snoring next to you as you weakly crawled out of the bed, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
Days passed, and shortly days turned to weeks, and you still refused to talk to him. Why would you talk to him? You were terrified, and rightfully so. What had happened to you was traumatic, almost as traumatic as him killing you. Now he had two things to feel guilty for, but you still talked to him after he had killed you, so why wouldn’t you listen to his reasoning now? “Let her be.” “Give her time, Belphegor.” Everyone always had something to say, but none of them truly understood. He didn’t like being away from you, especially not for this long. You wouldn’t even respond to his texts, you wouldn’t even read them. Were you really that scared of him? Did you really hate him that much? He didn’t really care, he would stand outside your door all day, even going as far as to bring down his pillow and his blanket, napping right outside your room. He would wait there as long as it took for you to open that damn door and talk to him. He understood that it didn’t make sense to you, but the least you could do is give him a chance to try to make it make sense to you.
Finally, after almost a month of you not talking to him at all, you finally went to him. It felt like forever, and hearing your voice say his name, it sounded… heavenly. You were finally giving him a chance, a chance to explain, a chance to make you understand. He knew it would be hard, but even now you still seemed scared of him. It only made it harder, all he wanted to do was reach out to you and pull you into his arms and tell you that it would all be okay. For a couple of weeks after it even seemed like everything was okay. He had explained everything to you, and you were slowly coming back to him, letting him touch you again, letting him kiss you again, and he would thank the dark Devildom sky every morning when he’d wake up and see you curled up next to him. He had messed up twice, almost lost you twice, he wasn’t about to screw up a third time.
That was the problem though, he thought that the third mistake would never happen, not even realizing that the third mistake was already taking place, making its home in your womb. He was so happy that you were finally talking to him again, overjoyed that you had, in a sense, let him back into your life. All he wanted to do was forget about what had happened all together, move on from it, leave it behind the both of you like a bad nightmare. It would have been too easy though, he would have been too lucky if that were the case. If he just got to move on from what he had done and still have you. Luck was never on his side, and there were always two sides to every coin.
There were no changes, not for a while, no changes that he would have picked up on immediately. Sure, you were sleeping a lot more, but he just attributed that to you being around him so much. Plus, he didn’t really have a problem with it, you were constantly with him, always next to him, it’s not something that he would complain about. Then you started eating more, bringing bowls of ice cream up to the bed with you, crying into the bowl as you scrolled through your D.D.D. He didn’t get it, and he didn’t really know who to ask. Beel had no answers for him, but he’d supply you with food whenever you asked for it. He could get used to your strange eating habits, and he even got used to you crying at almost everything… you were just emotional. When you started throwing up every morning when you woke up, that’s when he started getting worried. He was panicking actually, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with you. Had you gotten sick? He didn’t know how you would have gotten sick though, you were constantly with him, and he was never sick.
Soon enough the physical changes started coming, the small bulge in your abdomen that was never there before. He knew he had never seen it before, he noticed everything, he could pick up any change in your body. It wasn’t just visual, he could feel it when he held you close, rubbing his hand over your stomach which seemed to soothe you more now. He tried to write it off as your eating, maybe you were just eating too much. He didn’t bring it up to you, you were already so emotional, he didn’t want to upset you even more, so he just questioned it mentally, paying more attention to you as the days passed.
It happened one night as you were laying next to him, snoring quietly, his hand rubbing over your stomach as he always did. Your abdomen had grown much more from when he first noticed the change, but he was still writing it off as your eating, you were eating way more now than even before. That’s when he felt it, something moving beneath your skin, almost like it was pressing up against his hand. Your body reacted to it, rolling over onto your back with a smack of your lips, he would have thought it was adorable had he not been silently freaking out. What the fuck was that?
He couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore, he had to ask you, he had to bring it up. That was the first night in a long time that he had actually lost sleep, his mind focusing only on his hand that was still laying on your stomach, waiting to feel the slightest movement. As soon as you woke up he asked. He didn’t have time to wait, he was panicking even more now. “Did you eat something bad? Did Beel give you raw meat? Did you eat raw meat? Did you go anywhere without me?” The last question seemed stupid, he knew that you hadn’t left the house, let alone left his side since he got you back. He was worried though. Was it a worm? Was it a parasite? He didn’t know, but whatever it was had to be taken care of immediately.
You didn’t have time to answer any of his questions before pushing yourself out of the bed and running into the bathroom. He held your hair away from your face, wiping the sweat from your forehead as you retched into the bowl. That’s when he sensed it… almost… smelled it… it was different, but not too far off from the smell of him and you mixed together. It was familiar but unique at the same time, he didn’t like it. As soon as he knew you were done he carefully pulled you up off the floor and led you into the bedroom, laying you carefully on the bed. “I need you to be honest with me, Y/N. What the hell is going on?” He hadn’t raised his voice at you, only letting show through his tone his genuine concern. He didn’t understand why you started crying, only reaching out to grab you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried on his shoulder.
That’s when you started telling him between choked out hiccups and loud sniffles that you didn’t really understand what was going on, that you just blamed the changes on the Devildom at first. Then the real changes started happening, and you caught on, everything finally adding up in your head, but you were too scared to tell him, scared that he’d hurt you again, and that killed him. You were scared of him, scared to talk to him, scared to tell him what was going on… you didn’t trust his rationale, and why should you? He had hurt you twice, what would make you think that he wouldn’t hurt you again if you told him something that he didn’t like. He tried to stay calm, keep his composure for you, but inside he was freaking out. He was pissed, pissed at himself, angry that he had even allowed this to happen. He was pissed at Lucifer, for allowing him to get to you, for not protecting you when he had gone through his season. That’s surely when it must have happened. Not only had Lucifer not protected you, he hadn’t even told Belphie that this kind of thing was possible, and now… here you were, proving the impossible to be possible.
The problem wasn’t just that it had happened in the first place, the bigger problem was that he knew you wouldn’t allow him to get rid of it, and he knew just how to do it too. If you didn’t mean so much to him he would do it while you were sleeping… but you were everything to him. He cared about you, he wanted you to be happy, he didn’t want to lose your trust again. So… he did what he never thought he’d be able to do. He thought of the good aspects of it, and while there were very few pros to what was going on, at least with his seed growing inside of you everyone would know not to go near you, at least they should know. He didn’t expect the instinct to protect it would kick in, but he found himself growling at anyone that even came close to you or your stomach, and he only realized how bad it really was when Beel came to bring you food and he damn near bit Beels hand off.
Watching it grow, watching you grow with it, that’s what scared him the most. He knew it would be strong, how could it not be? The thing was part of him, a literal demon spawn and it could hurt you, rip through you at any point. There was no way to tell how big it actually was or what it was doing, he could only see the movements through your stomach and attempt to measure it by rubbing over your stomach. He could tell it was bigger, as it would be, but that only made him worry more. Would it have horns like him? Would it even care enough about you to be careful with its movements? He had no way of knowing, he could only hope. Hope that the thing, the child, loved you as much as he did.
Months passed, and while most men found it beautiful to see their woman carrying their child, he found it terrifying. It didn’t take long for him to realize that not only did the child have horns, it also kicked like a bull, it was just like him and he hated that. He couldn’t stand to look at your stomach, it was almost painful to see the purple and yellow blotches that covered your skin, knowing that it was his fault, that he had caused this. He would try to clear them up every day, only for the beast inside you to kick just as hard, creating darker bruises, almost as if it were mocking him. It wasn’t just seeing what it did to you, it was watching you try to cover up your pain, pretend that everything was fine as you clenched your teeth together, rubbing your hand over your stomach in an attempt to calm the monster down. He hated it, and he hated himself for doing it to you.
What hurt him the most though… was actually thinking that you would make it. He had done everything he could to try to make you comfortable, to make it easier on you because you were so damn persistent, so dead set on carrying this thing that you would kill yourself in the process. He knew it was a possibility, but he had never actually thought of it happening. You had already made it this far and while, yes, you were exhausted, and you were being beaten from the inside, you were still breathing. You were still going. It was so close to the end, you only had to wait a little while longer, but the monster had different plans. They always do, but not even he, a monster himself, could have planned for it to happen the way it did. No one would have been ready for it.
Everything was calm, too calm. You had finally dozed off, and for once you actually looked… peaceful. The thing had finally stopped moving, almost as if it had decided to take a nap itself, and he thought that he’d be able to get some sleep in. It had been so long since he had actually taken a nap, a decent nap where he didn’t wake up almost immediately to the sound of you gasping or crying silently when the thing would kick you. He should have known better, he should have known something was about to happen, the calm before the storm, he should have woken you up, he should have gotten the thing out of you sooner… but he was too late. He was always too late.
It wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t even a cry… your scream had startled him awake, he knew that scream, he had heard it before, it just wasn’t a scream that he ever thought he’d hear from your lips. His eyes were still clouded with sleep as he sat up and looked at you, and for once he wished that he hadn’t slept, that he hadn’t given himself that small joy, because now the greatest joy he had ever known was being taken from him. He knew that much, watching the blood stain through Beels shirt, the only shirts that even fit you at this point. It wasn’t only coming through the shirt though, it was oozing from between your lips as your breaths came out in choked off gurgles. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t even find his voice to call for help, to call for anyone. It was as if he was stunned into silence, watching it all happen, your eyes wide with panic and fear met his own that mirrored the same emotion.
Your scream had alerted the brothers, and they all came rushing into the room, but there was nothing anyone could do, what were they supposed to do? His eyes never left yours, even as the beasts horns, horns that looked exactly like his own, ripped through your chest with the most god awful squelching as skin and muscle was torn. Most of his brothers left at that point, even Beel could barely stand to stick around and watch, but he still stayed longer than the others. For emotional support or just to say his own goodbyes to you, he wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t blame him for leaving. The only one who stayed was Lucifer, helping to rid your body of the beast that had destroyed you, the monster that had taken you so carelessly away from him.
Lifeless eyes stared up at him now, the sheets and blankets stained with your blood. It was quiet, eerily quiet, the silence was deafening and he hated it. At least he thought he did, until he heard the child crying. What right did it have to cry? He hated it, he didn’t want to see it, he didn’t want to hear it, he just wanted to have you back. He would do anything to bring you back, but he knew he would never get that option, he would never get that choice. He had screwed up, it was his third mistake, and now he had really lost you.
Everyone went on as if it had never happened. It was easy for them, but it killed him to see his brothers act as if you were nothing more than a mere visitor who had passed through. The only one who understood his pain was Beel, and not only did he understand, but he helped. Belphie wasn’t the greatest father, he wasn’t the best, he wasn’t even close to being a good father, but he tried. Not for the child, but for you, because he knew that’s what you would have wanted him to do.
He was never quite sure about how much time had passed, he relived that day every single day. In his mind, it was as if it had only happened yesterday, always fresh in his memory. Days could have been weeks and months could have been years and he would have never noticed. Not even the growing of his son helped mark the passing of time. Everything was a blur to him, without you there, he felt he had no reason. The only reason he even got out of bed at this point was for his son who he could barely even glance at without feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t want the kid, but he looked so much like you, he hated that the child was the only living piece of you that he had left.
Days went on, and every day was the same. It was like a constant loop, feed the kid, keep the kid occupied, put the kid to sleep. It never ended, it never changed. He was laying on the floor, on the verge of passing out when his son pushed himself off the floor and walked to the door just as the knock came, pointing at it with a smile. “Mama?”
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Hunter!Tony x Demon!Peter AU
Hunter!Tony binds Demon!Peter to himself in order to find the monster that murdered his late fiancée. Lead down roads he’d never imagined himself taking, Tony discovers that maybe revenge isn’t the only thing he’s hungry for.
TW/Tags: Supernatural AU | Enemies to something | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Injury | Blood | Near-death experience | First kiss
“Is being a pervert part of the hiring process or are you just getting your money’s worth?”
Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew regardless that those plush lips would be pushed into a pout and those arched brows would be furrowed into a petulant scowl.
“If you’ve got me running around like your little errand boy, the least you could do is be nice to me,” a high, sweet voice simpered back. The face that belonged to it was just as youthful when it appeared in the mirror over his shoulder, watching him button his shirt with vested interest.
Tony didn’t deign to dignify it with a reply, staring down the pretty little monster until it let out a sigh.
“Fine. I have your lead. Arkansas, a seedy little dive known as the Dog Den.”
Something hot and rabid twisted in his gut and he had to pause his motions, hands trembling almost imperceptibly. It felt a lot like rage and a little bit like hope.
“Are you sure?”
Eyes the colour of fresh honey rolled so hard he could almost hear the muscles stretching. “No. I asked a magic eight-ball.”
He twisted with a snarl, reaching out. The ring on his finger pulsed with a molten orange glow and between slender wrists a chain that shimmered transparently flared to life, forming a delicate set of shackles no wider than if he’d wound a necklace there.
He curled a finger in the glowing links, dragging the Demon close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes.
“I’m sure,” it repeated, softer, quieter, holding his gaze with wariness, but not fear.
He let the chain drop after a moment, grunting as he turned around and finished buttoning up his shirt. When he twisted to reach for the jacket the lithe figure was sprawled out on his bed, artfully arranged as the Demon flipped through a magazine Tony knew hadn’t been in his own bags.
“You know,” the Demon piped up again as he tucked in his shirt, “maybe if you smiled a little more, the ugly things in the dark wouldn’t try to kill you as much.”
“I’ll make it possible.”
“Oh, you always promise me a good time and never deliver.”
Despite himself, Tony found he had to wrestle fiercely with a smile. “Peter.”
That heady, dangerous gaze pinned itself to him again. He met it evenly, ignoring the thrum of his pulse. The Demon really couldn’t have picked a prettier vessel to take over, a smudge of parasitic darkness inside the prettiest packaging.
That pink little mouth opened like it was considering another witty retort, then closed. Instead the Demon - Peter, merely hummed and went back to flicking through his magazine, disinterestedly glossing over half-naked women and gossip scandals.
It was almost disconcerting. To look at the pretty little slip of a thing sprawled out on his bed like some rented whore and to know that behind that pretty face was a being of Hell’s creation. Something twisted and dark, a corrupted soul festering behind a distracting smokescreen.
Peter Parker was the sort of face Tony would’ve fallen for like a rock, if he hadn’t been the one to summon the Demon to the surface.
Perhaps that’s why the Demon had chosen such a nice outfit. A desperate bid not to get ganked the moment he crawled out of Hell.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” Peter sighed, turning a page idly. He’d rolled over onto his stomach now, jaw propped in his palm.
“You can’t read minds. Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon,” he grunted in reply, shrugging on a jacket.
“Can’t I just meet you there?” the Demon whined, looking up with (literally) sinful puppy eyes.
He left it at that, flat and unforgiving, as he had to be. In another life he’d have fallen for that soft whine and that pleading look. Might’ve taken his shirt right off and crawled onto the bed, put that open mouth to good use.
But this was not that life, and that pretty face was stolen.
He checked all his things then reached out, plucking the gossip rag from Peter’s hands and throwing it in the trash. “Meet me at the car.”
“I was reading that,” Peter huffed indignantly, glowering up at him before he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a dip in the bedspread and the scent of copper.
He was sprawled in the backseat when Tony made his out to the 1970 Challenger he called his own, a set of stylish shades covering his eyes, fluffy hair unkempt and arms folded behind his head.
“Feet off the upholstery,” he huffed as he turned the key, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the road with a loud rumble of the engine.
“I know for a fact you sleep in this car and my shoes are clean,” Peter answered primly, angling his head towards the open window and the warmth of the morning sun.
Arkansas was a three day drive. They spent the first in almost complete silence, although the Demon did sulk when they stopped for gas and Tony declined to buy him anything. Rather than waste money on another motel he pulled onto a quiet patch of land behind a thicket of trees, settling across the bench seat with a sigh.
“Fuck off and come back in the morning.”
“Eloquent as ever,” Peter griped, leaning over the seat, arms folded and chin atop them. He looked laughably angelic in the darkness, all soft edges, voice quiet enough that a mouse wouldn’t flee it.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and when Tony cracked open an eye to repeat his command, he was gone.
Gone, until he thumped his fist on the window at the ass-crack of dawn, looking chipper and cheerful, Starbucks cup in hand. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! The monsters aren’t gonna hunt themselves!”
Tony considered stabbing him there and then, but Peter was unfortunately an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. Invaluable, as much as it stroked the Demon’s ego. He settled for glaring, baring past the Demon as he stomped off to relieve himself.
The next two nights went much the same, although Peter got chattier the more bored he became. Fiddled with the radio, disappeared for moments only to return holding an ‘interesting’ leaf or rock, scooped up from the side of the road Tony had just driven past.
Arkansas was crisp and bright and dewy in the mid-weeks of spring. It was so different from the New York of his youth, with it’s towering glass jungle and concrete pillars. It was a visceral reaction to think of the scent of flowers and clean air in Sicily, of pink lipstick smudged on his jaw, a laugh fading slowly, overtaken by the rumble of the engine.
Countryside became a smattering of industrialisation, bars and houses, garages and stores. He wanted to keep on going, chase that tail until he caught it and tore it off, but he knew better than to rush in half-blind.
He had to eat something proper. Had to rest. Had to learn everything he could from the paltry little stack of papers that Peter had given him, printed out at a library miles and miles back in the time it had taken Tony to piss and buy a bottle of water at a gas station.
The diner was like every other. Gaudy and cheap with food that was more grease than nutrition. Peter’s nose scrunched the moment they entered and he looked nonplussed when they were guided to a booth.
The Demon made a big show of pulling out a pack of wipes from the pocket of his fitted jacket, scrubbing the table as the waitress listed off the day’s specials. Tony rolled his eyes before ordering coffee and a slap-up breakfast, about to dismiss the waitress when Peter cut in with a saccharine smile.
“Bacon too, please. Crispy. And a milkshake. Thanks a bunch, darling.”
She arched her brows but made no comment, glancing at Tony before leaving. Then it was Tony’s turn to stare and quirk his brow, watching the Demon shrug lightly.
“What? I get cravings.”
Peter fiddled with a napkin as they waited, as Tony read through the sheets of paper. Folding it over and over into a little crane that he perched atop the salt shaker.
“Where did you even learn origami?” Tony grunted, watching it sway before it stabilised. Peter’s gaze flicked up to him and there was something unexpected there. A hollowness, heavily guarded but flickering in the gold of his irises even so.
“Even the worst of the worst need hobbies, hunter,” he uttered softly, and then their food arrived and they were lost to the silence that overcame those sating their hunger. Peter ate with an almost childlike manner, easily distracted, toying with his straw before each sip. He even swung his legs a little and drummed his fingertips on the table top.
The perfect performance.
He looked away.
Peter was unusually quiet after that, subdued as they made their way to a motel relatively close to the Dog Den. He didn’t even pester the receptionist or try to embarrass Tony by pretending to be some sort of rent boy as he purchased a key, eyeing the Demon consideringly.
When Tony slipped beneath the sheets Peter disappeared without argument, offering only a mock salute before he flickered and was gone, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark smoke.
He wondered where the Demon went. Back to Hell? Some run-down library to read through the night? An empty motel room to pilfer their cable connection?
The disconcertion over Peter’s silence left him the next day, when he commanded Peter to steer clear as he got dressed to hit their lead.
“You can’t go alone,” Peter announced, frowning.
“I can and I am. You’ll just attract attention,” Tony pointed out, shrugging on another flannel and tucking the flask of holy water against his belt.
“And if you die?” Peter shot back. It surprised his brows into lifting as he met the Demon’s gaze, tipping his head.
“Then you’ll be free of your bindings and there’ll be one less hunter ganking your friends. What’s the problem?”
Peter’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he was only suddenly remembering that he wasn’t in this little dynamic duo willingly.
“I get the Challenger if you die,” the Demon said instead, turning away from.
And maybe Tony should’ve thought more about that demand, because the only thing he could think of as he lay bleeding in the middle of the woods several long hours later was that Peter would most definitely get the car all scratched up and dirty.
Demons had no respect for vehicle maintenance.
He coughed wetly and grunted, pressing a hand to his bleeding chest. They wouldn’t, he supposed. Demons could just fly everywhere.
Peter had adamantly argued it was not teleportation.
He breathed out a sigh and shifted fumbling for his wallet. His fingers smeared blood against the white edges of the crumpled photograph in there and he stared at his wife’s smile, frozen in time and taken just days before a Demon on a murder kick had burnt her soul up from within her, along with their unborn daughter.
“I’d say see you soon, but. W’both know m’goin’ to Hell, not where you are,” he told her image softly, giving it a weary, slow smile.
“Hell would ask for a refund,” came a familiar voice, and moments later there were warm hands on his jaw, tilting his head up. “You stupid bastard. I told you not to go alone. I could feel there was someone stronger in this town!”
Peter’s eyes were wide and round, plump lower lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze, eyeing where Tony was slowly leaking his insides all over his outsides. “Shit,” the Demon breathed softly.
Tony made an agreeable sound. Shit was about right. He’d run head first into the messy, gruesome end that almost every hunter found themselves at. The end of the road; the final curtain; bleeding out somewhere at the hands of something twisted and ugly and evil.
“Guess you get th’car,” he rasped, aiming for humorous. It fell short when he blanched and more hot fluid slid down his throat and his chest, pooling at his navel.
“Shut up,” Peter growled at him, letting go of his head to pull up his shirt. His fingertips were light, but it still felt like fire. Hot and licking over everything he touched. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. I told you to take me. I told you I should go.”
“C’n you save th’gloatin’ ‘till I’m dead?” he asked, frowning. Most hunters probably didn’t get this much conversation on their deathbeds.
Peter shot him a positively scathing look, pressing down hard on the wound. It made agony flare up his torso, smothering his pathetic yell of pain into a weak, thready rasp.
“This is gonna hurt us both,” the Demon muttered, looking inexplicably angry as he settled his palms flat atop the worst of the wound. A muted sound was all Tony could manage, watching the Demon with hazy confusion.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Or at least, Tony didn’t notice it happening.
But then a strange, new type of pain began to lance through him, battling against the numbing burn of his torn organs. It crept through his veins and branched out, a tingling, almost electric sensation that had him tensing as best as his broken body would let him.
He opened his mouth and if he’d had the energy left for it he’d have reeled in surprise when Peter leaned forwards, slotting their mouths together firmly.
The Demon’s lips were soft and plush, with the faintest trace of soda. His lips were warm, too, just a breath above what would be normal for a person.
Tony almost didn’t know what he should be recoiling at the most; kissing a Demon, or kissing what was for all intents and purposes a sixteen year old.
Peter didn’t try to do anything else and Tony realised in the timeframe that he’d been internally broiling over the situation, breathing had become easier.
The fire was dulling to a simmer; a slow ember that still ached but no longer made him feel like he had one foot in the gates of Hell. His breath hitched and Peter pulled back slowly, keeling to one side slightly and almost falling over as he drew away.
His eyes were pools of inkblack, shiny and void as the Demon sucked in his own rattled breath, pulling shaking hands away from Tony’s torso.
He let his gaze fall slowly to his chest. He was still covered in blood, but the flesh there looked smooth and unmarred. Where he was once carved open like a pot hole there was once again closed off muscle and flesh.
He looked up in surprise. Peter was on his knees, hands braced on his thighs as he rode out the strain of wrangling his leashed powers. His eyes were slowly returning to the human hue, red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, plump lips downturned.
Tony licked his own, jerked straight back into the sensation of Peter’s mouth on his.
“Why?” he demanded roughly, bringing a hand to subconsciously touch his chest.
Peter shot him a sidelong look, the effect slightly dampened by the way he looked vaguely sick.
“A thank you might be nice,” the Demon sneered at him, huffing a twisted curl from his eyes as Tony pushed himself to his feet, ungainly and uncoordinated. Bracing himself on a tree, Tony stared down at the Demon.
At Peter, who’d saved his life. Against all he stood to benefit from Tony’s death, against all that he’d done his best to kill him when he first discovered he’d been shackled to Tony.
Coughing, Tony did his best to pull his shredded shirt closed before he made a rough gesture. “Get up. You’ll have to take us back to the motel. My car’s still at the bar.” Smashed up or stolen, he realised with a pang of sadness and anger.
“Oh no, lover-boy. You’ve been keeping me at half-mast all year. One night of fun has done me in for the night. I’m limp - get your own ride into town.”
Tony glowered, but all his frowning and snapping proved fruitless. Peter’s powers had been bound tight for almost a year and he really was burnt out, looking every inch as young as his vessel as he wobbled to his feet. The most he managed them was a few meters down the road when he tried.
It took them until sunrise to come close enough to the town that Tony could hotwire a car from the side of the road, ditching it a reasonable way from the motel and wiping it down with a clean patch of his shirt to get rid of his fingerprints.
He wasn’t bothered about Peter’s. Peter had mentioned having this particular vessel for over fifty years - his prints would be written off as a glitch on the system.
He went straight for the shower, scrubbing his skin pink as he tried to sleuth off the memory of being cut open, of dying alone in the dark and the cold, certain that this was his one-way ticket downstairs.
Brushed his teeth; trying to rid himself of the guilt that came with realising that the kiss had been pleasant, to a degree. Soft, pink skin, the sweetness of a soda consumed while Tony had been-
He shut off the water.
When he stepped out, Peter was actually curled up in the bed, looking almost infantile with the covers pulled up to his jaw. He seemed only half-awake, barely stirring when Tony entered the room. He was pulling on a new shirt when Peter spoke, voice sleepy and quiet.
“My Uncle taught me.”
Tony paused, glancing over his shoulder.
“Origami,” Peter clarified softly. “You asked me. At the diner. Where I’d learned origami. My Uncle taught me when I was thirteen.”
Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Tony took a light seat on the edge of the bed, each of them facing a separate wall. He was quiet for a little while, digesting the information.
“Thank you for saving me,” he grunted after a moment, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the words. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought he’d say to a Demon. Peter had gotten him out of scrapes and healed up wounds before, but always under command and never anything so serious.
Desperate to rein back some control, he slid under the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. “If you ever kiss me again, I’ll use thread soaked in holy water and sew your mouth shut.”
Irritatingly, Peter snorted. “That was hardly a kiss.”
“You’re in a snot-nosed brat’s body, what would you know about kissing?” Tony shot back, brows pinching into a frown.
“This,” Peter huffed at him, rolling over and on top of him.
Tony blamed the fact that he didn’t pull away on simply being too tired to.
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Heian Period - The When and The Why
In my brief comment on the Culling Game, I again noticed how Getwo makes references to the Heian Period, as a new era to come - and in addition, apparently a golden age for curses, the era where Jujutsu shined and where Sukuna triumphed. However, it is also assumed that The Three Big Vengeful Spirits (the ancestors of the three Big Clan of Jujutsu: Kamo, Zen'in and Gojo) were powerful sorcerers who lived in that era. Which brings me to this post, and to a shallow documentation of these characteristics, to answer the question: why is the World of Heian so important?
I.) Heian Period
Funnily enough, the Heian Period is described as an Era of Peace (as Heian 平安 - means peace), of the Japanese History, and it takes place between years 794 and 1185 - in honour of the capital being moved to Kyōto. Basically every event/legend/folklore tale in here has some sort of relevance toward this city, as weird as it sounds. Furthermore, the Heian Era is a Golden Age, influencing the unique Japanese culture and shaping its art, literature and architecture (imported from the Chinese culture). However, different events and legends take place during this time.
II.) The Hyakki Yakō
Japanese folklore is full of mysticism, and Hyakki Yagyo or Yako (百鬼夜行 - Night Parade of One Hundred Demons) is one of its idioms. It’s the break between the human and supernatural world. However adapted to the JJK conditions, it’s way more literal and it’s the rampage created by Getou (breaking the seal on his own stored curses) releasing curses all over Kyoto and Shinjuku. It is almost ‘impossible’ to survive a Hyakki Hagyo, unless you have an ‘exorcism scroll’ written by an Onmyouji (paragraph V overviews Onmyouji). Origins of such a legend are quite uncertain - however. The first tales reporting such an event are all dated back (yes, you guessed it) the Heian Period. In particular two of the sources which report two different versions of the happening are the Uji Shui Monogatari (which dates back to the 13th century) and the Konjaku Monogatarishu (in which son of the Fujiwaras - very important folk during the Heian era - met hundred demon walking down the road. However, due to the presence of a writing on his clothes he remained unharmed). This last legend is dates back to around 859-877 of course makes reference to the Onmyouji exorcism practices.
III.) Sukuna and Getwo
Sukuna Ryomen is a blatant reference to the mythical (?) figure of the homonym Ryomen Sukuna, who is said to be a deity (or better, a villain for some while a saviour for others) with two faces, four arms and legs. Sukuna is also associated with a bow and arrow, and a sword in his hands. However, this paragraph is more focused on the literal Jujutsu incarnation of Sukuna. Is it a coincidence that both Sukuna and the one taking Getwo’s body in possession (who yes, is Kamo Noritoshi, but at the same time he was possessed by the sorcerer of the Golden Age - Heian Era whose technique permitted him to stay intact as brain) have been alive for so long and that they are putting plans in motion at the same time? Well, as far as speculation goes my guess is that no, it’s not possible. Getwo wants another Heian Era - which reminds me of the fact that maybe this sorcerer (Brain-san) has survived til now experimenting and doing evil deeds, not deteriorating and living like a parasite. Could it be that there is a specific event taking place in this era (The same Yuuji being born suitably as a vessel) the trigger for Getwo to finally get on the move to put his plan? Or has he always been stringing the pieces along, creating Yuuji as a suitable vessel for Sukuna to regenerate and give space for Sukuna to rule again?
IV.) Curses and Clan origin - Sugawara Michizane (and referral to history)
It is known that Gojo and Yuuta are both descendants of Sugawara no Michizane, a figure that in JJK is a powerful sorcerer, but in Japanese history is a real politician, scholar and poet, living in the Heian era (845-903) and originally from Kyoto. Legend says that he, after death, returned from his grave to seek vengeance upon those who did him wrong during life and did not recognise his hard work. This has earned him the entry into the Three Great Onryo of Japan (日本三大悪妖怪).
Now does this same sound somehow familiar? Well, it should.
As mentioned in the introduction of this post, the Three Big Vengeful Spirits are the ancestors of the three big Jujutsu clans, and Sugawara no Michizane is one of them - from which we can safely assume that the Nihon San Dai Onryo is indeed, a reality in JJK. This makes it easy to assess who the other two ancestors of the clans Kamo and Zen’in are: Taira no Masakado (?- 940) and Emperor Sutoku (1119-1164) - as they are the missing duo completing the legend of the Three Japanese Onryo. In particular, I find it believable that Sutoku-tenno is the ancestor of the Kamo clan (as his legend is linked to blood curses and just generally he is told to have bit his tongue off and to have written a curse against Japan with his own blood), while Taira no Masakado should be the ancestor of the Zen’in clan. However, it is very interesting to note how all three rotate inside and around Kyoto, as after their death they are said to be cursing mainly their land, which is Kyoto for all three of them. It goes without saying that all three lived during the Heian period.
While doing my research onto Japanese history, I stumbled upon the practice of Onmyodo, which I have never heard of before. While reading about it, I noticed that some things were eerily familiar and then I understood why. Well, for starters Onmyodo means literally The Way of Yin and Yang and is a ‘system’ involving science, astronomy, divination and magic among other. Those who practiced this system were called Onmyouji, and they used to be civil servants. Practically, they were specialists in usage of magic and divination and they were to execute different court responsibilities such as protection from evil spirits. Now, this is where it gets interesting: Onmyouji were said to be able to control shikigami (the belief of the shikigami in general derives from Onmyodo). And even more, it was during the Heian Period that nobility used to even organise their lives around practices which were recommended by onmyouji. This system had a particular relevance during the Heian period, but fell out of practice when the imperial court fell. These figures were later labelled as occultist and occult priests. Insignificant as it might be, the onmyouji might be a sort of inspiration for jujutsu sorcerers in general, and their abilities in modern society to fend off curses.
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Elsa’s powers appreciation (part 2 of 3) - Freezing
To recap, I’d like to classify Elsa’s powers into 3 categories and 3 posts - making things out of ice/snow (part 1), freezing (and melting) and movement/kinetic energy.
Before I dive into part 2 - I received some comments on the first post about Elsa’s ice decorations on Arendelle castle, which I missed out on. I would classify them as medium sized objects that she creates out of ice =)
What is the difference between part 1 and part 2? Well, I make a distinction between her creating something that was not there, versus her freezing (ie lowering the temperature of) something that is already there. Of course this is just my opinion and some are arguable, such as the snowstorms - you could say she created it or you could say she froze the weather.
1. Small-scale freezing
In the first row, she freezes window sills both as a child and as Queen: in between, she is freezing the scepter and orb before the coronation (and also during the coronation itself).
In the second row, she freezes water under her foot and discovers she can walk on water. To the right, are 2 contrasting examples of her freezing the water fountain. In the first, she physically touched the fountain; in the second, she has “levelled up” and can freeze the fountain without physical touch.
2. Freezing the room she is in + the floor of the Enchanted forest
In the first row, she freezes the floor of the great hall (and the whole hall too); next to it is the sad scene after her parents’ funeral, which she didn’t dare to attend for fear of hurting everyone in her grief; rightmost, she is freezing the room within the ice palace and causing a mini snowstorm. (for snowstorms, she also uses her kinetic powers which I will cover in the third post)
In the second row are the two times she froze the forest floor, first to stop the Northuldra and Mattias’ soldiers; second during her fight with Bruni.
3. Further lowering the temperature of an already cold place
I want to point this out cos she does it quite a lot. Her powers are just THAT awesome! In the first row, in her anguish from hurting Anna, she lowers the temperature of the already cold great hall, causing more ice to form on the already icy floor and to spread up the walls (2nd pic) Next to it, in the ice palace, as she despairs while talking to Anna, we hear the sound of ice forming and we see more ice fractals appearing in the castle walls (which are made of ice and are already cold).
In the second row, with the castle glowing red, again more ice fractals appear and icy spikes form on the walls. On the right is a screencap from the dungeon scene showing more ice forming on the walls as Elsa’s emotions cause the temperature to drop further.
4. Freezing an entire geographical area + weather
This hardly needs description. She freezes the entire fjord and causes it to snow in summer in Arendelle.
Later on, after breaking out of the dungeon, her panic causes a massive snowstorm to form around her (again, snowstorms also involve her kinetic powers), engulfing the castle and lowering the temperature even further, such that huge spikes of ice block Olaf and Anna’s path inside the castle; also, so much snow blankets the castle that Anna is able to slide down the side of the castle safely to the ground. The storm also causes the fjord to freeze even colder; some of the ships move as a result of the warping ice and one of them topples and almost falls on Kristoff and Sven.
In the final image (post Great Thaw), Elsa has got it under control and is able to make it snow in a controlled manner and only in the castle courtyard.
Not shown is the epilogue of F2 where she has frozen the Dark Sea and gallops over it on Nokk.
5. Her hair
Haha, now for something light hearted. You can argue that this is a separate power, but I’d like to think that she froze parts of her hair in place to give her iconic hair do. Watch the progression of the screencaps - her long locks by the side of her face initially drape down, and with a sweep of her right and then left hand, they get plastered to the side of her head. Magic frozen hairspray...
6. Uniquely Olaf
Have you ever stopped to consider that the magical personal “flurry” that Elsa made for Olaf is pretty mindblowing? She literally made a mobile, perpetual freezer! ie, a localized zone of cold temperature that is cold enough to snow and keep Olaf from melting, AND follows him everywhere! To put it another way, in 1840s Arendelle, Elsa has invented a fridge! (that follows you) Wouldn’t every household want one of their own for those hot summer days?
Olaf’s permafrost is similar and a little bit frightening if you see it as Elsa “encasing” you in ice. She can permafrost all her sentient creations including Marshmallow and the snowgies now.
7. Freezing head and heart
This is one of the darkest sides of Elsa’s powers. She is able to send her freezing powers “into” a person and if it is the head - knock the person unconscious and turn some hair white; if it is the heart, the person freezes from within and their hair will turn all white like Elsa’s, prior to becoming an immobile statue of ice. Do you know what this reminds me of? I watched a nature documentary on certain parasites which infect insects and take over their mind before killing them from within. Could Elsa control your mind? I think Evil Elsa could...and would...(Hell, if Nattmara could...why not Elsa. -FoS)
I like to think that during the fight with Weaseltown’s men, she was falling to the dark side and if that had not been arrested, she could have easily unleashed her powers and frozen the hearts of all her assailants.
BTW, I did not realize before that when she hit Anna in the head, you can see a snowflake impact Anna’s head briefly. (captured in my screencap)
In the second row, I want to point out that frozen Anna’s body was SO COLD that Hans’ sword frosted up before the sword made contact and shattered. And this brings me to the next point...
8. Freeze metal and stone to ultra low temperature that they break
So I did some research and some metals can shatter once it is colder than a specific temperature called the “ductile to brittle transition temperature”. Cheap non-alloyed steel can shatter at about -30 degrees Celsius. Alloyed steel can withstand much colder temperatures. This is important when building metal structures eg ships and rigs for use in the Arctic or Antarctic. I’m no materials scientist so I’ll let people chip in on this if they wish.
The point is, our Queen CAN FREEZE TO COLDER THAN -30 DEGREES!!! And she sure has superhuman invulnerability to cold! Human skin sticks to cold surfaces.
In the rightmost screencap, Elsa has broken out of a solid stone dungeon! Maybe she blasted it open (we don’t know) but this too is freaking amazing! I did some brief research and this is called frost weathering or frost shattering. Essentially she could break through stone by rapidly freezing all the water in it since water expands on freezing. (again, I’m no expert)
It is my belief that in F2, she could have destroyed the dam singlehandedly. Earth Giants pffft. And she would have stopped the water at the source too.
Elsa is definitely impervious to her own cold - she hugs frozen Anna (who is cold enough to break metal) cheek to cheek and is unscathed.
Interestingly, in F2 Anna holds the ice sword that Elsa made without being hurt by the cold - perhaps Anna gained some cold tolerance after coming back from being frozen herself. And she hugs Olaf all the time too.
9. The Nokk + Magic Freezing Thighs
Elsa is pretty fearsome in combat - I will touch more on this in the third post. Here, she figures out pretty rapidly how to stop the Nokk by freezing him. In the epilogue of F2, one of the most beautiful FX scenes - she freezes the Nokk and he willingly obliges and becomes a beautiful ice horse that can travel on land.
Have you ever wondered how Elsa stays on the Nokk “bareback”??? (bareback referring to Nokk...although Elsa’s dark sea gown is pretty bare in the back too lol) I know @super-mam-te-moc and I have!
Look at these 3 screencaps - on the left, the Nokk is bucking and thrashing around, trying to shake Elsa off; in the middle, she is riding the Nokk at a speed faster than the tsunami of water; and on the right, the Nokk is rearing up on hind legs while Elsa makes the huge ice wall with her hands in the air. In all these situations Elsa stays firmly on the Nokk and never falls off or slides off!
Our conclusion is - she has magic freezing thighs that help her stick to the Nokk...LOL
Lastly, Elsa is able to melt everything she made. With the help of Anna’s great love (lovethawmode) she melted the entire fjord and Arendelle. (kinetic powers are at play here too as she makes everything float into the sky and coalesce into a giant snowflake)
In F2, she also demonstrates melting the ice floor that she froze.
What we don’t know yet is whether she can melt “natural” snow that she didn’t make herself, or whether she can reverse a natural winter and turn it into summer. Let’s wait for more out of this world powers in future shorts, movies or series!
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