#AU Fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iikisa · 1 year ago

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part 1

so. this is part one of a red dragon!krs fic ive been building up… this first chapter doesnt really have much much interesting scenes as of right now, and I’d love love love the input from everyone on how to continue, ideas for characters, and if theres anything i should consider changing!! that doesnt mean that i’ll be changing everything according to commenters, but i’d value all opinions to help build this plot 🥲

I’ve already finished around 3 similar length chapters and recently got stuck, so think of these posts as drafts and final revisions will probably go officially on AO3. thanks everyone 🤪

———

Oh, Pitiful Dragon (1)

Ever since his birth, the child longed for death. If it could take away his pain and grant his freedom, he’d trade anything he had so scarce of already. And on a particularly horrible day— the day that terrible man decided he would rip out his heart and use it for evil— the little child met a god.

The God of Death.

He thought it was ironic, seeing how soon his own demise was due soon. But this God didn’t come to reap his death, rather it came to propose a deal.

And the red dragon would accept any deal to be free of this pitiful life.

Kim Roksoo awoke suddenly from his slumber. His vision was black and only began to adjust to his blurred version after continuous blinking. Why was it so dark? And how had he fallen asleep? He was just finishing Volume 5 of The Birth of a Hero series and now— wait, are those chains?!

His eyes blew open and his vision was finally adjusted to the pitch darkness that surrounded him. He tried to stand but winced when pain spiked all across his body. Only then did he realize just how badly injured he was. Why was he so weak? Had someone kidnapped and beat him to a pulp?! He was completely blinded by the inexplicable pain that he hadn’t realized something much more important. No— wait, pain is important! It’s definitely concerning! But… why was his whole body covered in crimson scales?

‘Oh geez, well isn’t this new.’

Shortly after he had that thought he passed out from exhaustion and shock.

When Kim Roksoo woke again, he was practically being strangled. He quickly gasped for air and focused in on his current situation. He was being held up tightly by a metal collar on his (very, very sore) neck by some strange man in front of him. His hair was a long, spiky mess of blond and didn’t look very well-maintained. But his eyes… they were bloodshot red and had a crazed glint to them.

‘Crazy bastard…!’

Roksoo’s breathing was beginning to strain more and more, and suddenly he felt something prick beneath his scales painfully. He looked down and saw a clear tube running from his body all the way through an open passageway not so far from him. His blood began flowing through it.

‘Blood— They’re.. taking my blood?’

His thoughts were becoming even more incoherent by the second but after securing the clear tube into the little red dragon, the crazed man dropped him to the floor.

“You’re blood is so pure and vibrant, it’s so beautiful.. just like the color of your scales! It will definitely aid our liege and his cause. Haha!”

All Roksoo could think of was how crazy this lunatic was. He was still heavily panting, because honestly when was he not at this point, but thankfully he hadn’t passed out again. Instead, he glared with all his being towards the crazy bastard standing above him. Unfortunately, it only seemed to excite the lunatic even more.

“Maybe I really should visit you more. That look in your eyes gives me chills!”

Mumbling to himself, the psycho soon left the room through the very passage his blood was being drawn towards, and Roksoo was left alone; unprotected and cold. He hated feeling this way. These people didn’t seem to want him alive for so long, considering his “luxury” treatment. He was going to miserably die at their hands sooner or later. And he was too weak to do anything about it.

His eyes suddenly flashed with memories— no, records— of his fight with the second unranked monster to plague Korea. Lee Soohyuk and Choi Jungsoo… he had let them die. It was his fault and he knew it. It was something he’d regret for the rest of his life. But… they had told him to keep living. To keep living for them. He couldn’t die. It didn’t matter how he got into this situation. He’d rather crawl in shit than die this pathetically. He’d survive his new predicament— this new life that’s been granted to him. He’d survive.

He’d definitely survive to smack these bastards in the back one day.

Roksoo had spent weeks in that dark hell. His blood continued to flow from his body to somewhere unknown, he was paid violent visits by that lunatic, and he got weaker and weaker because of it. But his will didn’t waver for a second. Whenever someone came in to check on him, he’d mark it in his mind every time. Soon enough, he learned their patterns and found openings. He finally had a plan to escape this hell, no matter how many holes there were.. it was a chance.

With his limited information, there was only so far he could get, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew he’d manage. So, he followed his instincts. The minute his opening came, he used all the strength he had gathered and focused.

‘Concentrate. Concentrate on that feeling you’ve been accumulating, Roksoo!’

Suddenly, Roksoo felt as if he’d achieved some sort of enlightenment like the ones described in murim stories. He felt an overwhelming warmth spread throughout his body and a rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins exponentially. This power… He didn’t know where it had suddenly manifested from, but he was sure now. He could get out of here using it. His mind and body began working beyond their limits, and eventually everything around him felt like it was moving at a snails pace.

‘Instant..?’

His second ability from his past life, Instant. Time would seize and he could move freely for a short while. With a heavy cost on his body of course.

‘But this… it’s similar to instant, but it’s not completely it. I think— No, I can definitely handle this much better than what I’ve been able to before in Korea.’

His new body must’ve integrated Instant into another power. And this new power was about to help him escape. A small smirk graced his torn and bloodied face. Perfect.

Shackles that were tying his limbs down shattered beneath the little dragon’s feet in the blink of an eye, and in a literal instant he was darting across the passage with his slashed and scarred limbs.

‘Keep going. I have to keep going and get out of here!’

He was sprinting through the corridors, and if anybody had looked his way all they would’ve seen was a long, red blur. A bright light was beginning to seep in between the cracks in the ceiling of the dark man-made cave he was confined in.

‘Screw the consequences, we’re blasting through!’

With incredible speed, Roksoo was right beneath the seeping cracks of light and expanded his unused wings for the first time. His wingspan barely fit within the wide corridor as he spread them out and up, blasting off from his spot on the ground and flying like a rocket towards the ceiling. He was making it out.

Just as he impacted and the dust and debris had shot up everywhere, he spotted a few individuals standing far off in the sunlight. The most notable was a red haired main of fairly tall stature completely frozen in place by Roksoo’s sudden escapade. He wore a strange white mask over his upper face, his eyes a bright red with hints of brown. The person looked far to similar to Roksoo. His prominent crimson red and his own piercing reddish-brown eyes. They would’ve looked entirely the same if it weren’t for Roksoo’s current form.

He only locked eyes with the man for a split second, and continued shooting up into the sky. He began to hear shouts and alarms blaring within his vicinity. He had been encaged in a mountain with a large encampment stealthily surrounding it. He’d remember this exact spot.

Massive fireballs and arrows began piercing the sky in an attempt to bring Roksoo down, but he clumsily maneuvered around each and just barely grazed a few on his crimson scales. Suddenly, a blinding white spear had crossed his vision. And before he knew it, another had pierced right through his wing, tearing it open a considerable amount. Roksoo stifled the cry of pain that threatened escaping his lips, and instead gritted his teeth and continued to fly towards any kind of safety. Anything other than here will be safe, he just needs to lose these bastards first. The adrenaline rush he had originally received numbed all the pain in his body, but he knew that wouldn’t last with his current levels. He had to make use of every last bit of this power that he had in him.

He flew over an ocean and kept flying as far away as he could. Eventually he reached the mainland. The forest underneath him was dark and vast, a perfect hiding spot. He glides over the tree-line and with his remaining strength he just barely managed a suitable landing right by a flowing river. His landing was a little on the rough side and he was still so sore, but… he had finally made it out. He was successful. Now, he could truly live a slacker life! Wait— he still needs to get back at the bastards who had tortured him in the first place. Ah.. he also needs to secure enough funds for his slacker life as well.

Sigh.

Roksoo had much to do before he got to live a peaceful life.

‘But first, let’s just lay here a little while longer…’

Roksoo succumbed to his exhaustion and pain, entering a deep slumber.

———

THANKS FOR READING to the end !! please let me know ur input, things i could change, add, etc, i lack a lot in this field and value ur feedback ! 😋

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the-fyre-flie · 2 months ago

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Batman!Alfred and kid Robin!Bruce hhhh sobs

As Batman, Alfred is willing to kill for the sake of the mission. Protecting the innocent is his first and foremost rule. Leaving the perpetrators alive is optional. When he first starts doing his Batman-ing, Alfred carries a gun. He only stops after Bruce properly witnesses Alfred kill someone.

Bruce, after insisting that he be allowed to help Alfreds patrols, is joining in the apprehension of a bunch of Penguin goons. He's beating up the goons, but he's unaware that Alfred has been killing the goons previously. He thinks Alfred is gunna tie them up, call the cops, ect. But no.

Bruce watches in horror as Alfred pops a goons head like a grape. Wide eyes and white faced under his little Robin mask. He's just a little boy who JUST saw his parents die like a year ago, and now he's watching his beloved godfather butler enact revenge against men whose crimes didn't fit the punishment. The goons were robbing a store, not attacking anyone.

Alfred notices how terrified Bruce becomes, the gun and gunshot a huge trigger for the kid. He has an 'oh shit' moment, and he quickly discards the gun and wraps the boy in his arms. Hushed apologies and quiet comfort. He ushers Bruce back to the manor and pulls the cowl away and buries his face in his sons hair, and explains himself over and over. Bruce is rightfully upset, and it takes a month or so before he's willing to even look Alfred in the eyes.

After that, Alfred commits to the typical Batman no kill rule.

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idksmtms · 19 days ago

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Silver Springs (Rockstar!Harris Dickinson x Rockstar!Reader)

A/N: I know I should be working on my Poseidon series but I saw this moodboard by @24kmar (I’ve screenshotted a portion of it for the thumbnail image) after watching Babygirl and I just needed to write this. Plus I’ve been listening to a lot of Fleetwood Mac recently sooooo. Anywayssss! I hope you enjoy it! I was trying to capture like IDGAF-esque vibes for Harris in this. (And yes, I thought I was being clever by putting Drew Starkey in the band and calling them Not Twins). Also, I love MARINA and I love that she used to be called Marina and the Diamonds so that is officially Reader’s band. I make the rules so… deal with it.

Summary: Filming has begun for a new documentary on the members of the band ‘Not Twins’. Everyone is particularly interested in the tumultuous relationship between their leadsinger Harris Dickinson and his girlfriend, the lead singer of ‘Marina and The Diamonds’. Sex, drugs, rock and roll, mystery, love, and intrigue of the highest order. The hottest documentary to hit the screens for a long time…

Note: This is written as mostly just dialogue so I have listed the different fonts/formats for the different people -

Reader Harris Dickinson Drew Starkey Reporter/Interviewer

Word count: 8,425

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, depictions of mental health issues, depression, slight mentions suicidal thoughts/ideation, slight Drew Starkey x reader (I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself and the self-indulgent + horny thoughts came out), characters + reader smoking, angst, toxic jealousy with hints of possessiveness, cheating allegations, hint of cheating thoughts, anger issues, anger issues related to toxic jealousy, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

I also reference some real songs in this, a comprehensive list will be provided at the bottom.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

“Could you say a few words into the mic? Just to test the sound.”

“Testing, testing, Universal Studios are wankers, testing. All good?”

“Hahaha, yup, all good, thanks. Ok, so… are you alright to talk about Y/n?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you really want to know about.”

“Well, your relationship was a huge influence on your music - for both of you. It’s been plastered all over the news and social media. If you’re ready to talk about it, the people are willing to listen.”

“Yeah, I have nothing to hide.” … “Are you interviewing her for the documentary as well?”

“...Yes.”

“Cool.”

“Are you alright to talk about you and Harris now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Might as well talk about the guy in a documentary about his band.”

“Heh, yeah, probably. Alright, so, let’s start at the beginning I suppose. How did you two meet?”

“It was the 2nd of February.”

“It was the night of the Grammys.”

“We had been making music for a couple years but we only started hitting the spotlight that year. It’s funny thinking about it now, that Marina and the Diamonds and Not Twins were gaining popularity around the same time. Anyway, it was our first year actually being recognised as musicians and going on our own tour, everything suddenly moving fast, you know?”

“Both the bands were nominated for best rock performance that night. It was the first time either of us had been nominated for anything. We were doing our first international tour, but we were already famous. Sold out venues, adding extra shows and then selling those out. A couple of our songs go viral on TikTok and suddenly we’re sensations.”

“It’s a room full of the top artists in the world. These are the people you’ve looked up to your entire life, and now you’re in the room with all of them at once, trying to act like you belong there and that you have somehow reached their level by being nominated. The girls and I weren’t important enough to have a central table or anything of course, we were off to the sides somewhere, which made it easy to slip in and out even when the awards were being given out.”

“You’ve just been on this red carpet, showing yourself off, giving interviews and trying to act like you give a shit about any of it. We were excited at the time but it’s fucking exhausting. We were led into the hall and to this table off to the side. It was still, like, visible enough, but we obviously weren’t the most important people there. Which was really good to be honest. Meant the cameras weren’t hovering around us all the time and the spotlights stayed away. I found this door a little closer to the back. It led to like some service corridor or whatever and then straight out to the back of the building that was totally desolate. I think I went out that door like 10 times that night for a cigarette.”

“I found this door in the back of the hall when I was coming back from the restroom like a quarter of the way through the event, and I was feeling so overwhelmed and in desperate need of a cig, I just followed the hallway until I was like spat out into this little brick loading bay type thing. It was bordered by the backs of other buildings, so it was all very industrial, and it was night time after a rain so the tarmac was all black and shiny and a little yellow from the street lights outside. I was rummaging around in my clutch for my cigarettes and my lighter. I managed to find the cigarettes and get one out, but I almost hurled the stupid purse onto the floor because it was somehow so full but so small and useless at the same time. I still hate clutches.

I didn’t even realise it but then I saw this shadow come up behind me and I hear this click, like one of those old fashioned type lighter clicks? You know the sound I’m talking about? The little metal click as the lid comes up and the flick as it lights? That. And suddenly someone’s just pressing this lighter to the end of my cigarette and I’m whirling around just to end up staring at this guy’s bow tie.”

“I was just leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. I was trying so hard not to untie the bow tie and throw it away in the bin. Our manager had gotten us the suits and told us we had to wear them and Drew had to do up my tie for me. I’m more of a jeans type of person, so that was physical torture for me to be honest. Anyway, I’m trying not to scuff up my shoes too much or undo the bow tie or get rain water on the fabric or basically mess anything up in any way, when the door just flies open and this girl walks through, hand shoved into this tiny little clutch bag thing. She’s cursing like, every living creature on the planet earth, cigarette dangling from her mouth. She’s literally starting to lift up the bag to heave it across the road and I’m a bit shocked from this sudden entrance, and then just thinking about how I felt the exact same way about ten minutes ago, so I just walked over and lit it for her.”

“I mean, obviously I was shocked. This random dude - in like the creepiest setting ever by the way - has just come up almost from behind me to light up my cigarette without me asking. I almost hit him at first, just for having way too much audacity, but then I had like a drag or two and started to calm down so I just said thank you and moved with him to lean against the wall and just kind of stare into space and ignore the thumping music from behind us. Someone had been performing so I knew no one would freak out that I wasn’t there.”

“We were both just kinda leaning against the wall, smoking our cigarettes in silence. Hers is burnt like halfway through when she lazily turns her head to me, kind of just letting it drop to the side so she’s looking up at me, raises her eyebrows, and says “so you’re the competition.” I just burst out laughing. Like, folded in half, wheezing laughing, because what was I supposed to say to that? I feel like no one ever acknowledges the actual desire to win. Everyone is always all like “oh I respect the other people in my category so much, we’re all winners, bla bla bla.” You may respect them, but you also want to beat them. You want to win. Plain and simple. So her just being there, like, calling me the competition… I don’t know, it just made me laugh. And she started laughing too and-”

“And he just stopped laughing and was like ‘can I record your laugh for a song?’ I mean what the fuck dude? So random. I kinda just stared at him and was like, “are you serious?” And he just nodded, no smile, nothing, just focus. It’s the look he always gets when he’s building music in his head. There’s a couple pictures out there you can find on the internet, just google pictures of him in the studio or something. He gets this hyper focused look on his face, like his mouth is set straight and his jaw is just shy of being clenched and his eyes are so sharp and like you can almost see his pupils just dilate on command or something. It’s kind of a scary look, I won’t lie. Anyway, he had that look and he just goes ‘yes. Can I sample you laughing for a song?’”

“I don’t want to say some meaningless shit like ‘ohhh I’ve never heard a laugh like that in my life’ because maybe I have, I don’t know. She laughs really loudly and fully, like it comes from her chest and her throat and it makes her entire body shake. And her face scrunches up a little, like, like she can’t control herself or something. And in that moment, it was the perfect laugh. In that moment it was… inspiring. So yeah, I asked her if I could use it for a song because suddenly I had all these ideas for music that started with that laugh or matched that laugh or even used that laugh and I just wanted to be in the studio writing and crafting.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. I said yes, of course I said yes. It’s flattering to inspire someone just by being yourself. There’s something special, almost magical, about being yourself and someone seeing that and feeling the need to create art. I guess that’s how past boyfriends must have felt when I told them I wrote a song about them. Well, until we break up and I write a song calling them dickheads of the highest order.”

“Yeah, anyways, so I finished my cigarette and gave her my phone so she could give me her number and then I invited her down to the studio like two days later so we could sample it. She just nodded and smiled at me, crushed her cigarette under her heel and went back inside. I still remember the shoes she was wearing that day. They were these blood red stilettos, like bright, fresh-blood red, and the heels were so sharp. They were basically knives she was standing on. It’s kinda funny when you find out how much she hates wearing heels ‘cause she has the balance of a baby deer.”

“Neither of us won that night. Can’t even remember who won it to be honest with you, because by the time I came back in I was focused on something else.”

“Do you guys know who won in our category that night? I won’t lie, I did not pay attention at all after.”

“Hahaha, we can find out for you.”

“Did you go to the studio to record your laugh?”

“Heh, yeah I did. I felt really stupid, but we had started texting already beforehand. He even called me a couple of times, and it was… really nice. People I know who are watching this are probably gasping in shock right now. I would do anything to avoid a phone call. But… It was nice to talk to him. I liked his voice, even when he wasn’t singing. Especially when he wasn’t singing. Everyone loves his singing voice and, yeah, it’s absolutely amazing, but when he speaks… yeah. Anyway.”

“How did it go?”

“It was really fun. The first twenty minutes were just me trying to fake my laugh for the recording but it always sounded wrong and artificial. Then for the next forty minutes he did literally every single thing he could to try and make me laugh. At first I was too conscious of it to be sincere, but then he told me we would stop recording for a bit, to just sit around and relax, but he had the sound tech still keep the mics on. We just talked for a while, and… he’s always been good at making me laugh. I was just giggling and cackling and… just laughing really. He got the recording he wanted.”

“People have always wondered if it was your laugh at the beginning of ‘i hope that you think of me’.

“Yeah… it is. I didn’t know which song he was going to use it for. I was happy to give him the sound bites and move on. He didn’t even tell me he had written it. When it came out, we had already been dating for a couple months. He just sent me the Spotify link in a text that just said ‘listen’. I still love that song. I listen to it pretty frequently actually…”

“Had you heard her music before you two met?”

“Yeah. Drew was a fan from their early days, so he played their music sometimes. I won’t lie, I didn’t really give it the time of day until ‘Messy’ came out. I fuckin’ love that song. Still do.”

“What was it like to be in the studio with her when you were recording the laugh? Did you guys play or write something?”

“Recording the laugh was really fun. I wanted it to be authentic, I wanted the real sound, but we obviously couldn’t get it on command. It was a good excuse to just hang out together, get to know each other better. After we got the recording, the sound tech left and it was just the two of us. We just sat around strumming the guitars, playing the piano, just fiddling about really. She had brought her guitar with her. It was a present from her grandmother, getting kind of old, even back then, but she loved that thing. It was precious to her, she wouldn’t even let me touch it.”

“Is that the guitar you were using on the tour before it ended?”

“...Yeah.”

“She hasn’t used that guitar since the tour. Did you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Di-

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“So when did you actually start dating then?”

“I mean, we never made any official declarations or anything. One day we just… were. I guess you could count the first kiss as our start.”

“What’s the story behind it?”

“We didn’t call them dates, but we would spend a lot of our spare time together. Between travelling and days in the studios and commitments and stuff, any spare moment really when we were in the same city, we would find a way to spend time together.” … “Anyway, it was this one night. Probably a Sunday. It’s like 2am, it’s just rained, no one is out and about. One of those slow and quiet nights where no one had bothered to leave their house even before the clock had hit twelve, let alone after it. I was feeling a bit restless. I wanted to go out and walk or something but like, I’m a girl on my own in the city. Can’t really do that. Suddenly my phone is ringing and he’s asking if I wanna go walking around the city. Says he’s been sitting and staring out of the window for the past hour and he desperately wants to go out for a walk or something. I still remember the way he asked, it was so serious, like he was asking me to marry him or something. He said that he really just wanted to be with me then, and… it just made me feel really special. I felt giddy too, like I was back in school and my crush had asked me out for the first time.

So I said, yeah, of course, and then he showed up at my building. He smiled when I opened the door, this soft, small smile that was like… I don’t even know, it was like soft yellow light, and I felt my entire chest just fill up. It felt like my ribs were going to slowly curl open then pop out. He reached out and waited for me to grab his hand and then we walked like that for a while. Just through neighbourhoods and past shops and restaurants and just wherever we wanted really. Holding hands.

It was like an hour into the walk, we’re just leaning against a wall by this alley, sharing a cigarette and just resting for a little bit. I was standing so I was basically pressed into his chest. I was cold and we were sharing one cigarette between the two of us, so I was just like curled onto him. His jacket was open so I wrapped my arms around his torso and just laid my head there. He was really nice and warm and smelled really clean. He always smelled really clean, like freshly showered and fresh linen, even when he didn’t wear cologne.

He would bring the cigarette down to my lips, wait for me to take a drag, then pull it away and bring it back up to his own lips. We were stood there like that for like ten minutes when he flicked the cigarette away and pushed my chin up so my head tipped back. I was just staring into his eyes. It was weird, it wasn’t like the world had gone silent or anything, but it felt like I was suddenly… lifted into a different body. I could hear him breathe, soft little whooshes, and I could feel the skin of his hand on my face like I had never felt another person’s skin before. And he just kissed me. Full on. Just closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to mine. I could feel the tip of his nose press into the crease between my cheek and my nose. We were literally wrapped around each other like those hugging salt and pepper shakers.” … “It… it was nice.” … “I don’t know. Maybe it was the undiagnosed depression, but for a week after that night I used to think “this can’t last, this is going to ruin my life.” And… I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like my thoughts were right and I was wrong to ignore them because if I had listened to the darkness I would have saved myself a bunch of heartache. But other times… other times I’m really happy that it happened because regardless of everything else, I knew love.”

“I think that was the happiest I’ve ever been. Those moments with her.”

“Was that inspiring for you? Finding her?”

“Are you joking right now? Of course it was. Every sappy lovey-dovey song I’ve ever written came out around that time. I was surprised people didn’t seem to notice the sudden tone change.”

“Is ‘Must Be A Dream’ about her?”

“Yeah, of course. I… every time I woke up beside her, I would say ‘this must be a dream’. She always used to laugh, her super duper tired, ‘I can’t believe you’re joking with me at 8am’ laugh. I was in love with that laugh.”

“So, how did you two meet?”

“Yeah, uh, Harris and I met when we were both already kinda on the music scene. We were trying to start solo careers and this tiny magazine, I’m pretty sure they’re out of business now, that interviewed independent and kinda indie artists had us both for an interview to promote new artists. We did this interview together and people kept commenting on how similar we were and laughing that we were just the UK and USA versions of each other, heh.” … “We got along pretty well at the interview and decided to book some studio space and just play some stuff together, you know? Like just bounce ideas, get some vibes, and just kinda enjoy music with someone else who enjoyed it. It wasn’t supposed to be anything big. We went and got coffee together before going to the studio and like three different times we had to be like “we’re not twins”. Anyway, we played some music and we just got each other. Like he would play something and I would know exactly how to continue it. Our minds just worked really similarly so like an hour into the session ‘Not Twins’ was born.”

“When did you first meet Y/n then?”

“Uh, lemme think for a minute. I think it was a couple weeks after Harris first asked her out. I knew she had been by the studio to work on some stuff with him, but I hadn’t ever been there at the time. He had written some songs that were tinkering around with, just trying to get some melodies going, see what notes might go where, you know, just rough stuff. Anyway, he told me he invited her around to just hang out for lunch or something. I thought it was cute. He wasn’t really someone who acted like that about his relationships. He wasn’t really someone to get into relationships anyway, if you know what I mean… but it was obvious he liked this girl. He wasn’t like a nervous jittery virgin or anything, I think he has too much confidence for that, but he was just like, I don’t know, smiling at his phone all the time or like going out for hour long phone calls, always face-timing and stuff. It was obvious he was invested in her.”

“So she came by the studio?”

“Yeah, sorry, got side-tracked, heh. Yeah, she came by the studio and it wasn’t like one of those awkward introduction moments where he’s standing next to her and just gesturing between us two. It was like we clicked right from the start. We just chatted about music and made stupid jokes and just got along really well.” … “I think we’re pretty similar, you know? Her and me? Well, not a lot, we do disagree about stuff, but like… I don’t know, is it stupid to say we live on the same wavelength? We just understood each other without needing to explain anything or do anything. She would strum on the guitar or hum a melody and I knew exactly where to go on the bass. It was kind of like how I worked with Harris but it was also different. I don’t know, I’m kind of shit at explaining this stuff, but it was just something different… something softer.

I mean, even aside from that, she’s such a sweet person, so smiley and just easy to get along with that if those elements hadn’t existed, I’m sure we would have been good anyway.”

…

“Had you listened to her music before?”

“It’s funny, I was actually the one that introduced Harris to Marina and the Diamonds. I had known about her and the band for a little while, I liked their music, and I thought their live band interactions, the way they worked together on stage was awesome. Like, have you seen some of their performances? Her stage presence is just immaculate and then just the music itself is so good that it was a recipe for success from the beginning.”

“So you were a fan before they even met? Did you ever feel… I don’t know, regret, I suppose, that they met before you two did?”

“I, uh, I haven’t really talked about this before, to be honest. I don’t know why I’m even telling you guys this, Harris’ll never forgive me when he watches the doc, but like, fuck it, I guess.” … “Yeah. I was a bit sad that they met before she and I did. It was childish to be honest with you. It was one of those things of like “I was a fan first!” you know? It felt like a sick joke that I had been a fan for a while and he just kinda bumped into her and managed to shoot his shot. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t resent him for it or anything, and it wasn’t even like I knew her well enough to be that annoyed or anything. Plus, after meeting her, we had such a good friendship and like… everything that happened, and I don’t know. I guess… for me, it was the right person, wrong time. For her, it probably wasn’t anything…”

“Are you alright to talk about when everything started, uh, I don’t know, going ‘downhill’ I suppose?”

“Yeah, I mean, fuck it why not? I’m already exposing my entire life to the internet, might as well keep going.”

“Well, thank you anyway, hahaha. So, well, I mean, before we get into that, why don’t we talk a little bit about the good times? Just before the issues started appearing, what was it like?”

“I… It’s weird, the way I view it. It’s not like the issues just started appearing or anything. I just think there were things we didn’t know about each other that were only revealed with time and we weren’t really ready for it. I don’t think he and I were wrong for each other. I don’t think we even found each other at the wrong time. I just think we hadn’t reached the same place in life at the same time. Like- ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying. I think we both should have worked on ourselves a little more before committing to a relationship.” … “Sorry, wait, you asked about the good times. Of course there were good times, we wouldn’t have been together for as long as we were if there hadn’t been good times. I don’t really know how to pick out specific ones. I guess I remember the bad times a lot better…”

“What’s your best memory with Harris?”

“It was the album release show we played in London. It was a very small intimate venue, the audience was basically sat on the stage with us. Harris came down and played a bit of guitar for some of the songs, and… it’s difficult to describe the memory even though I remember it so vividly.

We had just finished playing ‘Your Best American Girl’. The lights were dipped down to this dark pink with these really soft yellow spotlights on us. I was at the standing mic, and he was somewhere on my left. The music began for ‘Pink in the Night’, it’s probably the slowest and softest song we’ve ever recorded but at that point it was the song that best expressed the emotions I felt being around Harris. It was this fearful declaration of a desperate love. I loved him so much but at the same time it felt like I was constantly doing something wrong or something.

Anyway, the atmosphere was just so heavy and quiet, it was like everyone was holding their breath as I sang, and I couldn’t help but watch him. The music just poured out of me like breathing and my eyes were so focused on him, the way he was strumming the guitar, the way he was standing. And I looked at his face and he was already watching me, like he knew the song off by heart and didn’t need to bother looking at the guitar, and it was this intense moment of just… being connected to each other. We just looked into each other’s eyes for the entirety of the song, felt the music through each other, just… I don’t know. It’s as close as humankind can get to magic.

“Wow. That’s… intense.”

“Yeah… it was. But, I don’t know, I guess we didn’t know how to be anything other than intense.”

“The first time the public became aware of the… tumultuous aspect of your relationship was when you were arrested. Could you tell me about how that happened?”

“It was the stupidest shit ever.” … “We were at a club, it’s a saturday night, everybody’s at their fullest shithead behaviour, you know? I won’t lie, I was probably on something by then, aside from the alcohol, maybe ket or even coke if Lenny - uh Lenny, the bassist for Marina and the Diamonds - was there.

Anyway, I was at the bar trying to get a drink, just chatting to some random man nearby, when I look over to the crowd, and I see some fucker trying to dance up on Y/n. I just… I stood there and I saw red. I couldn’t even tell if she was in distress or not, if she even noticed or not, but I saw him trying to press up against her and I… I won’t lie, I went feral. I left my body. I was controlled by the blood rush and the anger.

I flung him off her and shoved him through the crowd. I was trying to get him to the door because I knew they wouldn’t let me fight him in the club, but obviously he began struggling back. I just punched him in the face. Full on. It hurts like hell by the way, if you were wondering, but… I won’t lie, it’s also kind of satisfying when you’re angry.

The bouncer came in and tried to separate us but I just shoved him off and kept on going after the idiot. Eventually the other bouncer came back from the bathroom and they hauled us outside and held us there until the police got there. The man, bless him, wasn’t even going to press charges. I was gonna get away with assault, but they searched us and they found a little baggy of coke in my pocket and hauled me off to the police station.”

“So you weren’t actually arrested for the fight?”

“No, the man didn’t press charges. I was taken in for minor drug possession.”

“How did Y/n react?”

“Well, right after the fight, when we were sitting on the pavement waiting for the police, she called me a twat, a wanker, and a right cunt. All well deserved. She couldn’t believe that the reason I was fighting was because of some petty jealousy. She told me she hadn’t even noticed the man.”

“Are you the kind of person that gets jealous easily, then?”

“I don’t know, maybe. All I know was that back then, despite everything, over and over again, I couldn’t believe she had chosen me. I could never quite believe that I was worth the love she was willing to give me. I guess I was always paranoid it wasn’t real. Or that she could be easily pulled away by someone else.” … “No wonder she was upset. I was basically telling her I didn’t trust her.”

“That wasn’t even the first time he had gotten jealous. It was just the first time he had gotten into a fight over it. I always knew he had a little bit of a possessive streak. I didn’t mind, I kind of liked it actually. Made me feel like he really loved me if he was that protective over me. Like it was some twisted way he showed he cared about me. But when he attacked someone… Now I think it was just because he was so insecure about himself that he couldn’t trust I wouldn’t leave him for someone else. That’s shit only therapy can fix, though. I know. I speak from experience.”

“You were arrested once yourself, weren’t you?”

“Yeah… um. Yeah. That was… that was bad. It was… I’m actually insanely embarrassed about that. It fills me with shame when I think about it now. I don’t really want to talk about it.” … “I’ll give you the quick run-down version. This is like night three of the tour. Basically, we had gotten into some stupid petty argument about something or other. He was down at the bar for a bit while I was slowly working my way through the entire mini bar in my room. I went downstairs to get hammered at the hotel bar when I saw him and Lenny sat together. They were both at the bar, on swivelly bar stools, turned towards each other, and their knees were touching. I don’t… I felt this anguish in my chest, like someone was reaching through the gaps in my ribcage and squeezing the flesh of my heart until it squelched out between their fingertips.

He was smiling at her the way he smiled at me. The really pretty smile where his eyes look all mischievous and the right corner of his mouth lifts up a little. It’s his flirting smile. And seeing him direct it at Lenny…

Anyway, long story short, I got super duper wasted, caused a bit of a ruckus, refused to return to my room, and was arrested for being drunk and disorderly.” … “Harris came and bailed me out at like 3am and… I literally sat on the street and heave-sobbed for like fifteen minutes.” … “Sorry, can I just… can I have a quick break? Just to run and get some water?”

“Yes, yes of course.”

“Was there ever a moment where it hit you that something was wrong? A moment where you could feel everything tip over?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, actually. The first time it really hit me that ‘something is wrong here’… Like a month before the tour, Drew and I were in the studio working on some new music. Nothing big, we just had a bit of free time and were fiddling around with some ideas and tunes. I invited Y/n around to just hang out, you know? She could just sit and read if she wanted, but I knew she would end up joining us. She could never help herself. And I wasn’t going to deny any ideas or help, I appreciated it, she has a good ear.

Anyway, she told me she was on the way, and I realised I was out of cigarettes. I thought I might as well run down to the off-licence, grab some snacks as well. Drew was in the studio, he could let her in if she got there early. She must have arrived just as I left. When I got back in, just humming along down the corridor, feeling a little jolly or something, I got to the door, and I heard her laughing. I paused there, hand on the door knob, and looked through the little glass window in the door.

She had pulled one of the stools up close to Drew’s, and they both had guitar’s on their laps. Realistically they couldn’t have gotten that close together, but… I don’t know, every time I picture it, they’re sat as close as humanly possible, even with guitars on their laps. Both of them had their heads leaning forward, so close to each other, and they were smiling. They both had on this smile like they were sharing a moment no one else was a part of. Like… I don’t know, like it was just the two of them and the world was secondary. It… felt horrible.

I mean, it was just dreadful. For like, five whole minutes, I hated Drew. I wanted to punch him in the face. I wanted to kill him. He was my best friend, and that’s how I was feeling about him… I never wanted to feel that way again, but once that seed was rooted in my mind, it always came back up. Any time they were alone together, even for a moment, I couldn’t help but think they were just creating more connections, sharing more secrets, and soon, I wouldn’t have those with her anymore. They would all go to him…” … “Nothing had ever felt that wrong at that point.”

“It was a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy thing, I think. It was only after he started mistrusting my friendship with Drew that I started, I don’t know, feeling kind of interested in him. Nothing ever happened, and the little crush fizzled out but… I don’t know, funny, isn’t it?”

“Alright, so it was kind of a steady downhill climb until the tour?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, we were just so shit at communication and we felt too much. I felt like we were partying too much and he was too into it. He loved partying but didn’t want to do it without me. Neither of us actually talked about why we felt these things. And eventually we felt like we couldn’t trust each other about anything, but we were also too selfish to let each other go. That’s why I was so shitty about Lenny. That’s why he couldn’t handle me being friendly with Drew.”

“Let’s move on. Let’s talk about that last tour.”

“Yeah.”

“Sure”

“What happened?”

“By the time the tour started, we had entered this vicious cycle of horrible, unhinged, scream-fighting, just to slam the doors and walk away, only to get drunk or high, get depressed and lonely, just to crawl back to each other and have these intense reunions. It was… frankly, it was sick and twisted.”

“I was a piece of shit.”

“The tour had your two bands scheduled for almost 50 shows over 5 continents. You played 5 shows before the tour was cancelled. Neither of you have spoken about what happened, and to the general public, it still remains a bit of a mystery as to why the tour was cancelled. Are you willing to share the story?”

“...”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t ever look at him again, let alone speak to him again after night five.”

“Night five of the tour… I will never forget that night. It was the worst moment of my entire fucking life.”

“In an attempt to, I don’t know, somehow salvage our relationship, I wanted to show him I trusted him, so… I offered to let him use my guitar during the shows.”

“I… I hope she knows how much I appreciated that gesture. Regardless of anything else, I hope she knows how much that meant to me… that she trusted me to use it. I know how precious it was to her.”

“That guitar was my single most prized possession. I protected that thing with my life. It got its own seat on the plane next to me. It was my everything.”

“Why was that guitar so special to you?”

“That guitar used to belong to my grandmother, and she loved it. She had once wanted to be a musician herself but she always said she wasn’t good enough to actually get anywhere with it, and her family wanted her to get a real career or get married and have a traditional family, bullshit like that. But every time we had a big family gathering, she would break it out and play music for us. Anything, everything, but… you could see the joy on her face, the way she felt the music. Her not being able to pursue music was one of the greatest losses of the world, I think….” … “Anyway, um, where was I? Yeah, so, when I started pursuing music seriously, she gave it to me, she said I would at least be able to use it. She always told me to chase my dreams, to never let myself think I wasn’t good enough, to never let anyone stop me. It was the thing that connected us, you know? As long as one of us played on that guitar, we would be alright.”

“On the fifth night of the tour, we got into an argument backstage. It was the worst argument we’ve ever had. I accused her of having an affair with Drew, I told her she was ruining everything, her career, our relationship…”

“I told him he was crazy. I called him pathetic. It was… it was ugly. Every possible horrible thing we could have said to each other, we did. And we refused to stop. We were just up in each other’s face, screaming. And… and I said ‘maybe I would be better off with Drew.”

“When she said that… my entire world felt like it had collapsed around me. The very thing I had been trying to avoid, her seeing that she would be better off with someone else… it was happening in that moment. I felt everything. Every possible emotion, but… I chose anger.”

“He was seething. I could see it. It was almost like his eyes were actually on fire. Harris is not someone you want to see angry. It’s like a forest fire, it’s frightening.”

“And I turned away from her. I started walking away when I saw the guitar sat on its stand in the corner. I turned back to look at her, and then the guitar. I think she could almost tell what I was thinking.”

“I saw him looking at my guitar with that blazing anger and everything was suddenly closing in on us. I put up my hands like some fucking hostage or like I was trying to calm down a bear or something. I was just whispering, ‘no, don’t you dare’.”

“I just reached over, grabbed the guitar from the stand, lifted it over my head, and I smashed it against the floor. Again. And again. And again. I could hear her screaming, but it was so far away. Like I was underwater. The only clear sound was the smashing of the guitar.”

“I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was on my knees, head in my hands, absolutely wailing. I began grabbing for the pieces and he only stopped when he saw me there, crawling in the wood chips.”

“She looked so small. She was curled up on the floor, her hands shaking, picking up all the wood in her little fists, trying to put the pieces of the guitar back together.”

“I got so many splinters, I cut up my palms horribly. I screamed so much I basically shredded my vocal chords and lost my voice.”

“She looked up at me, her eyes all puffy and red and full of tears… her hands were bleeding… and she just whispered ‘I hate you’. Over and over again.”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I’ve ever felt hatred like that for someone before or since. In that moment… I loathed him.”

“I’ve never forgiven myself for doing that. I never will. I fucking… I fucking hate myself for doing that. I hate myself for taking her trust and shattering it like that. I hate myself for hurting the one person I ever loved like that…”

“He walked out of the room after that, just left me there on the floor. My manager came in a little while later, we sweeped everything up, didn’t talk about it. I don’t think anyone else knows what happened in that room. Not Drew, not Lenny or anyone else in Marina and the Diamonds.”

“I walked away. I couldn’t face it.”

“After that you refused to finish the tour?”

“Yeah.”

“I couldn’t even look at him, let alone stand next to him on stage and be all happy. I told my manager I was dropping out, I refused to do anymore shows. I told them I would pay for anything that needed to be paid for, whatever needed to be done so I could fuck off back home and never think about that stupid fucking tour ever again.”

“I couldn’t believe I had done that, I was in a deep pit of self-loathing and I knew I couldn’t face her. I told my manager that I quit, that I was going home. He didn’t know what was going on. I think he probably spoke to her manager later. But… yeah, I was a coward. I couldn’t face her so I ran away.” … “I… like a week later, I tried to write her a letter. Tried to say sorry, just… anything. It was so shitty, but I sent it to her anyway. No response.”

“Yeah, I… I got the letter.”

“You didn’t respond?”

“No. I wasn’t ready then.”

“Has… that changed?”

“Well, must have done if I’m participating in this, heh. I… yes. I don’t hate him anymore. I mean, I might have hated him in that moment, but… it didn’t last. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive him for destroying the guitar, but… I’ve forgiven him for everything else. Too little time on earth not to, I suppose. ”

“Let’s talk about everything that happened, Drew.”

“How much capacity does that camera have? If we talk about everything that happened, we’re gonna be here a long time.”

“We have backup cameras as well.”

“Then I have all the time in the world.”

“You and Y/n…”

“...Are you trying to ask if she cheated on Harris with me? Or if we ever dated after they broke up or anything like that?”

“...Did you?”

“No. Look, I won’t lie, I… I did have feelings for her, even when they were dating, and even when all that shit was happening. I was in love with her. I won’t ever deny that. We never talked about it, sometimes I thought she might have feelings for me too. But nothing ever happened. Those two had other problems to deal with, more than any jealousy or possible feelings between her and me.”

“Did Harris know you had feelings for her?”

“No.” … “I never wanted to be the reason they imploded. It was incoming anyway, but I didn’t want to be the reason. Cheating is… that kind of break of trust is something you don’t come back from… At least, to me.”

…

“You said you were in love with her?”

“Yeah… I was. It… that was probably the best and worst time of my life. The good moments were so good. I got to write ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ during that time of my life.”

“You wrote ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ about Y/n?”

“Have you ever felt that? Being in love with someone who’s so wrapped up in someone else?”

“Can’t say I have, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, no need to be sorry.”... “It… it sucks man. It’s the worst feeling you could experience, I think.” … “Yeah… I, uh, never told her either.”

“You never told her how you felt? Never?”

“Never. She didn’t even know the song was about her.”

“Silver Springs is one of the most successful pieces of music ever released. I mean, it’s still breaking records. Despite all of this, you barely ever talk about that song. You haven’t told anyone about the writing process, the idea, the inspiration, nothing. But everyone has speculated that it was about your relationship with Harris. Is this true?”

“I… I don’t really like talking about ‘Silver Springs’.”

“Why?”

“I was in a horrible place when I wrote that song. I was… I was feeling every bad emotion you could possibly think of. I was filtering through all these different emotions. I mean, one minute I wanted to end it all, and then the next I was filled with this all-consuming, fire-breathing, rage where I wanted to smash everything around me.” … “I wrote Silver Springs in one of those in-between moments. I was so… angry, but I was so tired of being angry. I didn’t want to be angry but I didn’t know how to stop. And… in my head, at least, I blamed him for everything. Everything.” … “Look, now I obviously know I wasn’t some innocent victim in that relationship. I could be just as horrible as he was. I gave as good as I got. But in those moments I was so angry and feeling so selfish and… I don’t know, I guess I wanted him to know. Without telling him, I wanted him to feel my rage. That’s why I wrote ‘Brand New City’. Why I wrote ‘Dreams’ and ‘The Chain’. I guess I also wanted to somehow confirm to myself, truth or not, that I had affected him just as much as he had affected me.”

“You had a minor style change at one point, after that era.”

“Yeah, I was listening to a lot of old music, just trying to like mentally transport myself to anywhere other than where I was, I suppose. We recorded ‘Silver Dagger’, it was just a Joan Baez cover, but it… weirdly it was another perfect song for the anger I was feeling then.” … “It’s funny, so many of my favourite songs that I’ve written have been inspired from that period of my life. I wrote ‘Guy on a Horse’ when my friends were trying to hype me up and the only thing they could think to do was say how much better I was than him. And later, when I started feeling more… ok, when the hate and anger simmered out and I began to, I don’t know, heal? ‘I Don’t Want to Know’ was born. If nothing else, all that pain was good for music, heh.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.”

“I noticed you haven’t said his name once during this interview.”

…

“Is that the question?”

“Was it a conscious choice?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s still a little difficult to think about it all. If I say his name, he becomes real. It’s not just some insane dream I once had and can’t get over…”

“In her interviews, Y/n spoke about how a lot of her songs have been inspired by that period. Can you say the same?”

“Yeah, of course. The album we released a little while after the tour fell through? ‘Prisoner of Desire’ and ‘True Love’s in Decline’ are basically the exact words to describe how I was feeling. Lyrics wise, they probably capture the hopelessness and agony the best, I guess.”

“When was the last time you saw her then?”

“That night. I mean, I still see her on social media and stuff. Can’t really escape that. But, uh, we haven’t seen each other since… haven’t spoken to each other since…” … “Still listen to her music. Might be a form of self-torture or something. After the breakup, I couldn’t listen to anything from them, it just hurt too much I suppose… Now I guess I like the fact that it hurts…”

“Can we take a break for a bit?” Harris asked, rubbing at his face. His hands were itching and he got up without waiting for an answer, patting down his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. Just as he began walking to the door to leave the studio they were filming in, the door flew open and someone rushed in. He flicked his eyes up, a cigarette already pressed between his lips, and paused. His mouth dropped open a little more but the cigarette dangled precariously off his lip, stuck with the saliva.

He was staring at a whirlwind of a human being, her head turning this way and that. She finally spotted him and halted, like someone suddenly pressed pause on a tornado. Her chest was heaving, all visible skin slightly shiny with sweat. He could see her hands shaking at her sides. She was staring at him. He wasn’t surprised, his own eyes were rather unabashed in their assessment of her.

“Harris…”

Song List: I hope that you think of me - Pity Party (Girls Club), Lucys - it doesn’t start w/ a laugh tho lmao Messy - Lola Young Must Be A Dream - Tempesst Your Best American Girl - Mitski Pink in the Night - Mitski Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac Brand New City - Mitski Dreams - Fleetwood Mac The Chain - Fleetwood Mac Silver Dagger - Joan Baez Guy on a Horse - Maisie Peters I Don’t Want to Know - Fleetwood Mac True Love’s in Decline - Tempesst Prisoner of Desire - Tempesst

#harris dickinson x reader #harris dickinson #harris dickinson au #harris dickinson x you #harris dickinson x y/n #rockstar au #rock music #rock band #rockstar gf #rockstar girlfriend #rockstar bf #rockstar #alternative universe #alternate universe #au #rock au #fanfiction #fanfic #au fanfic

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invisiblewille · 4 months ago

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Working on something new - think coworkers and roommate wilmon friends to idiots to lovers plot mhm yeahhhhh I love writing wilmon being stupid and stupidly in love yippeee

It’ll be a one shot but I haven’t decided on length yet tbh

#young royals #yr fanfic #yr fic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #young royals fanfic #wille #wille yr #simon eriksson #simon yr #simon young royals #wilhelm x simon #Simon #one shot #au fanfic

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andillwriteyouatragedy · 1 month ago

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irving isn't sure if he's on a date or not, but he sure hopes he is.

new chapter of if it's quite alright is now on ao3!

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kittenfangirl20 · 11 months ago

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Another Hazbin Hotel fic I am thinking of doing is an AU where Adam is able to tell he was in love with Lucifer in Eden and it is Adam who runs away with Lucifer. Then when Lucifer falls, Adam is turned into a Demon and the curse placed on Adam is the opposite of the one placed on Lilith who was unable to bear a child. Adam is now cursed to bear Lucifer’s children and in order to birth the child he must have pain inflicted upon him by having the child cut out of him. Adam gives birth to Cain and then Charlie. Since Adam doesn’t leave Hell like Lilith did, when Charlie mentions she wants to help Sinners redeem themselves, Adam gave Charlie his support, but they have to deal with the leader of the Exorcists who is Adam’s ex wife Lilith.

#mpreg #hazbin hotel #adam #hazbin hotel adam #demon adam #adam the queen of hell #adam morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie #charlie morningstar #cain #hazbin hotel cain #cain morningstar #au fanfic #fanfic ideas

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popodoki · 9 months ago

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Hey, teacher! Aka my damn motorcycle Catwin AU! Part 2! Cause I'm easily swayed x

In this AU, Edwin is a school teacher, and Thomas owns a really cool motorcycle :'')

I think its pretty clear, but just for the record: I am taking various liberties with characters etc here

I also know nothing about astrology, friends x

Edwin sighs as he looks over the latest batch of exam scores from his class. High grades from his studious pupils as usual, lower grades from the boys who were almost equally as bright, but didn't put forth the effort. A long-standing issue, one the school board doesn’t seem half as concerned with as he is. Now alone in his classroom, Edwin hears the final bell, the ensuing floor-shaking exodus of students to the open air. He leans back in his seat, vowing to try to come up with some sort of solution to this problem later.

He packs some essays to read, homework that still need to be graded, into his briefcase, retrieves his coat from the rack in the corner on the way to the door. He very much needs a nice cup of coffee.

"Hey, Mister Edwin!" A loud shout echoes from the end of the hallway, and Edwin frowns, to himself, turning to face the student that the other teachers have affectionately likened to a bird.

"Mr. Finch, I have repeatedly told you to call me Mr. Payne. Not to refer to me by my first name, and especially not within the school grounds."

The teen has the grace to look apologetic, yet in pure young-spirited fashion, physically shrugs off the comment just a moment later. “I’m sorry Mr. Payne. But I have good news for you! Check it out!" The young man pulls a thick book out of his shoulder bag, flips it open to a page, bookmarked with a grey and blue checkered bit of laminated paper, thrusts the turned book and open page at Edwin, near bouncing with anticipation. Edwin bends his head and glances, inspects the writing, charts and scribbles. It's a large astrology analysis. On the top of the page, written in bold letters is 'Capricorn'. Below, Edwin skims through a far too large amount of text, even for an avid reader, and regrettably still unwillingly picks up phrases such as ‘You’re in the market for a partnership, and you might be pleasantly surprised, Capricorn.’, ‘Any existing relationship can deepen through dialogue.’ or ‘Saturn favours staying power, so look for a plus-one who’s in it for the long haul.’ Edwin skims faster, rereading the same few sentences to stall, making an estimate of a more natural seeming amount of time to read a prediction of his love life, from an astrology tome held up by a fifteen year old.

Next to all of this utter tripe, is a note stating 'check star alignment!'

Edwin can't help but smile, still, at the student’s obvious enthusiasm for the subject.

"Isn't that great news?" Monty Finch asks him with an answering smile, "Not only does your horoscope predict it, but I did in fact check, of course, and the star alignment today is also very favourable. Know what that means?" He adds in a conspiring, whispering tone.

"You have a bit too much free time and need to be assigned more homework?" Edwin asks, with a hint of a smile still on his cheeks and a tilt of his head to accompany his teasing intention.

The teen starts up his own analysis of the analysis, and Edwin knows if he doesn't put a stop to this conversation, Monty will keep talking, undeterred, for the next 20 minutes. "Alright, well Mr. Finch, thank you for sharing your inspiring passion for astrology. Enjoy your weekend." He pats the boy semi-affectionately on the shoulder, and brushes past him with long strides, beating a hasty retreat.

"Trust in the stars, Mr. Payne!"

Edwin tosses his brown leather shoulderbag into the passenger's seat of his car, pulls out of the school's parking lot, sighs deeply, rolls the windows down and lets the crisp air fill the car, rustle his hair.

He passes the Allcott estate on his way into town, glances out the window at it as he passes, though he doesn't know what he expects to find. The outer gates are closed, locked, he can't really see past them, so he shrugs to himself, refocuses on the road.

Port Townsend is one of the most affluent in the state. The people who live here have money, and they like to show it off. The school Edwin works for is a private, all-boys school that prides itself on how many of its students move on to acclaimed universities and careers pre-planned by either doting or detached parents. The houses are beautiful and scenic, most of the people are shallow and nosy.

Edwin pulls to a stop when he finds a good parking space, a few blocks away from his favourite coffee shop. It's small, locally owned, and one of Edwin's favourite things to do is order one of their dark roasts, with a scone, that is decidedly nothing at all like a bisquit, and settle in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window while he grades papers.

When the little bell above the door softly chimes as he walks in, he's happy to see that his favourite barista is behind the counter, studiously arranging the pastries. "Hi Edwin!" She chirps, and immediately sets to the task of hand-grinding the beans for his coffee.

“Hello, Niko, good afternoon.” Edwin smiles at her and looks for a seat, settling in with a cursory glance through the window. The smile falls from his face.

He's utterly confused, instead, looks around to see if anyone has noticed that this is happening, or if he's just imagining it. A little shake of his head doesn’t clear the vision; the sleek black and brown motorcycle parked next to the curb across from the café. The man sitting on the bench near it in the lightest definition of the word ‘sitting’, limbs spread akimbo across the furniture, head lolled back against the backrest.

"Quite weird, right? I gave him a cup of coffee to go, and then he didn’t actually go. He pretty much fell right to sleep on that bench. I don’t think that’s a good position to sleep in. But, he looked so tired I don't have the heart to disturb him. And nobody has passed that bench, the bike is turned off and parked legally, so I don't think anyone minds. Have you ever seen a bike like that? I like his jacket, so cool!" Niko smiles, retrieves his scone and reaches for a mug just as the coffee finishes brewing. Edwin thanks her, but holds up a hand, silently asking her to wait as he chooses another corner of the coffee shop, making sure he can keep the bench and its occupant in his line of vision, though he can't pin down exactly why.

Probably just the novelty of it all. Port Townsend was a town steeped in tradition, both in values and a clockwork year-round schedule. The town council kept everything pretty, decent, and calm. If Edwin was completely honest with himself, it was the reason he settled here.

He's interrupted from his wandering thoughts, when the sound of several high-pitched voices, barely audible over the loud clacking chorus of stiletto heels on well-maintained concrete reaches his ears.

Oh no. This is going to go really bad, really fast.

Edwin is out of his seat, ignoring Niko’s questioning little “Edwin?”, and heading for the door before he’s even consciously considered the decision. As soon as he’s greeted by the warm air outside, he’s also greeted by the sight of one Esther Finch, and several members of the Homeowner’s Association. When that calculating gaze locks on Edwin, and stays so, Edwin spares a thought, a quick mental note, that Monty must have been wrong about the star alignment. He does not feel particularly pleasantly surprised, at all.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #catwin #cat king #edwin payne #drabble #fanfiction #dbda fanfic #dbda au #au fanfic

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

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📖"Alpha, Beta (& Omega)"

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1066

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, dom/sub elements, alpha Steve, beta Bucky, hurt/comfort, wedding night, alternate history, nobility/royalty au, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage, age gap (18/30), enemies to lovers

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

1. A Contract of Engagement

Chapter Summary: It’s a lost cause. His father broke the law in a massive way and got caught, and as soon as word gets out, they’ll be ousted from their Senatorial position. Bucky and his sisters will inherit nothing, and it’ll be the scandal of the century. “Please, mom” Bucky says softly. “Please don't make me do this."

Bucky sits despondently on one of the front parlor’s settees.

“Nobody,” he tells his mother, but of course she already knew that was going to be the answer to her question. Bucky hasn’t had interest in courting anyone, and nobody in society has expressed any interest in him. Not since his accident, leastways. His now-lame arm and the scarring that creeps up the left side of his neck have managed to dampen the interest he used to get from suiters. “I don’t want to marry, certainly not now. I’m eighteen for Christ’s sake.”

Winnifred sighs, the pen that she’s had poised in-hand lowering. “James, I love you and I’m sorry, but now is when you have to do it. You’re done convalescing from the accident, and thank God for that. Your finishing school is over, you need to do this.”

“Why?”

Bucky’s mother has never been one to suffer his bullshit. She shoots him a glare. “You know why. It’s only a matter of time before your father’s misconduct is made public knowledge. Once Frank Castle—”

“Don’t say his name.”

“Once that man testifies before congress, your father is sure to be ousted. Weapons smuggling, James? You’ll be completely ineligible. No one will have you.”

“No one like us, you mean. Not everyone has to marry into the Senate, mother,” Bucky snaps. “Christ, we’re probably all inbred at this point.”

“James!”

“I have plans. I want to go to university!” He throws his hands up. “Who even marries their beta first anyway? What’s wrong with this guy that he can’t find an omega?”

“Please,” his mother scoffs. “Captain Rogers is a very reputable gentleman.”

“You don’t know him!” Bucky stands up from the couch, walking restlessly over to the fireplace. “Please tell me you haven’t written to him already?” Winnifred tenses, but then she seems to steel herself and she nods tersely. Bucky curses. “Mother!”

“It needed to be done, James. There are no other prospects and Captain Rogers—”

“Ugh, stop calling him that. What’s his name?”

Winnie purses her lips. “He’s the Lord Steven of House Rogers, and you will be respectful, James.”

Bucky huffs. “Well I’m the Lord James of House Barnes and I—”

“You’re the lord of nothing!” Winnie snaps, standing up from her chair at the writing desk. She’s glaring at Bucky now. “And you never will be, if you don’t marry this man. We’re about to lose everything. Your father has seen to that. Soon House Barnes won’t exist. There will be elections—elections, James! Can you even believe it? We’ll all be common.”

Bucky looks away. “What’s so wrong with that?” he mumbles.

“Maybe nothing for you. Maybe you could manage, go off to university and make something of yourself despite it all, but think of your sisters. They won’t be able to marry well, and they’re omega, so what are they supposed to do? Take positions as shop girls? Ladies’ maids?”

Bucky’s heart lurches and his eyes shoot back to his mother, reproachful. “That’s not fair.”

Winnie’s features soften in sympathy. “I know, Sweetheart, I know.” She gets up and comes over to him, the long hem of her dress brushing the carpet as she goes. She pulls him into a hug and Bucky can’t help but to lean into her. “Oh, Bucky,” Winnie mourns, using his nickname for once. “You’ve always been such a little grownup. Sometimes I forget how young you really are. But life isn’t fair, and I’m afraid this might be where you have to start learning that.”

“Don’t make me do this, mom,” Bucky whispers into the perfumed fall of her hair, though even as he’s saying it, he knows it’s a lost cause. His father broke the law in a massive way and got caught, and as soon as word gets out, they’ll be ousted from their Senatorial position. Bucky and his sisters will inherit nothing, and it’ll be the scandal of the century. House Barnes has held one of New Jersey’s two seats since the very inception of the Senate. A hundred and twenty years of tradition, gone down the toilet because of Bucky’s reckless father. “Please,” he says softly. “There has to be something else we can do.”

“It’ll be alright,” Winnie tells him, pulling away from the hug and looking him in the eye. “I promise you. I’ve corresponded with Captain Rogers for several weeks now, and I’m confident he’ll make a good husband for you.”

Bucky shakes his head, angry all over again. “No! He won’t. How could he? I don’t even know him!”

It’s a silly argument, really, since many men of Bucky’s stature enter into arranged marriages. But even still, Bucky is beta: He’s always had this luxurious assumption that he’d be able to fool around for a decade longer than most; get educated, make mistakes, have fun. And now that he’s finally come of age and is on the precipice of actually getting to do those things, he has to go off and marry some old man he’s never met?

The reality of it is worse than a bucket of cold water to the head. “I don’t want to marry a fucking stranger,” he grumps.

“Really, Bucky. Don’t use foul language.”

“And I don’t want to marry some old man.” At his mother's raised eyebrow, he says, “Well he must be old if he’s already assumed the seat?”

“He’s young, actually,” Winnie counters haughtily. “Quite young. Thirty."

"Oh, is that all?" Bucky scowls at the carpet. Thirty, Christ. "When did he assume the seat?"

"Two sessions ago. Senator Sarah Rogers had a state funeral, James. I’d have expected you to remember it.”

Bucky waves his left arm in disdain, showing off his crippled hand. “Forgive me my 'preoccupation' these past few sessions, mother." He regrets his tone as he sees hurt flash across Winnifred's face. Dropping his hand, he sighs and looks away. "This is House Rogers of New York we're discussing, I take it?"

"The sister-seat to House Wilson, yes,” Winnie says, expression perking up as she hurries back to her desk to fetch up the stack of correspondences. “Here, I have his letters if you’d like to—”

“No,” Bucky says curtly. He straightens up and makes to leave the room. “I don’t need to read them. It’s fine. Just arrange everything and tell me when to show up.”

“Oh, Honey …”

“Don’t,” Bucky says tersely. “Just don’t. It is what it is. Guess I’m moving to New York.”

He leaves the room, and assumes that his mother writes another letter to the Lord Rogers, confirming their engagement.

Story Masterlist

Sarah-writes-Stucky's Masterlist

If you like what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

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fixitlikeswomen · 2 months ago

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Yo!!! It's been a while!!! I've been writing a lot but haven't really posted any updates, so here is 2, yes, 2 new chapters for your viewing pleasure :)

#arcane #arcane fanfic #fanfic #wattpad #fixit writes #lesbian #lesbian writer #wlw #vi x caitlyn #vi arcane #caitlyn arcane #league of legends #arcane league of legends #arcane au #au fanfic

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your-divine-ribs · 7 months ago

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Forbidden Part 30

Words: 3.6k

Prof Van and Y/N finally get it on // just porn right from the start // warnings: very rough sex (it’s all consensual), degradation, spanking 🖤

I forgot how dirty this was I’m going to hell 🫣

Forbidden Masterlist Main Masterlist

You don't realise that your legs have turned to jelly until Van releases your feet and starts to rise up out of the chair, lifting you up and out of his lap as he goes.

"Ahhh shit," you hiss under your breath as your knees buckle and you veer to the side, unable to counter your balance with your hands cuffed behind your back.

"I've got you," he says, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other tangling in your hair. "I reckon I could do just about anything to you and you'd always want more, isn't that right? My filthy little girl's always ready for more. I suppose you think you deserve my cock now, huh? Guess you think you can handle it?"

"I want it... please," you utter, your voice tight and shaky with need. Your cheeks burn hotly with shame at the delicious thought of being made to beg for it even now. Van's right, you really can't be satisfied. Even as fucked out and exhausted as you are you can't get enough. You can't get enough of him and his wickedness. "Please Sir, I want you. I'll be good from now on, I promise."

"Oh you promise do you?" A dark laugh, mocking. He holds you steady whilst you squirm, forcing you to look at the mess he's made of you. His lips drag down the length of your neck then up again to your jaw as a hand slides down to cup between your legs, his thumb sweeping purposefully across your over-sensitive clit. "Well I don't just want you to be good, I want you to be good for me. And I mean only me. Understand?"

You're so tender and sore that his movements make you whimper pathetically but you have no choice but to take it, knowing full well that you brought this all on yourself by shamelessly seducing Johnny. You love that fact and you know that Van does too. Despite his possessive demands he gets off on your brazenly slutty behaviour. He's addicted to that bratty side of you that's just begging to be subdued and tamed just the same as you're addicted to his corrupt streak. You're the perfect match.

"Yes Sir, only you," you whisper, faltering as he releases you temporarily to turn the chair around and push it up to the mirror, the back pressing against the silver surface. Before you can even begin to wonder what's in store for you next he shunts you forward over the chair. You push one knee up on to the seat to steady yourself and you feel him kick roughly against your other foot, spreading your legs wide.

"Well, open up for me then," he commands. "Let's see how good you can be."

You watch him reach around to dig into the back pocket of his jeans, biting down hard on your bottom lip to stifle a fearful whimper at what he might produce but to your surprise you see a flash of silver, then the pressure around your wrists is gone as he clicks open the cuffs. Your hands automatically shoot forward to grasp the back of the chair to brace yourself.

"So what'll it be then baby?" He taunts, towering over your prone body, eyes dark and dangerous in the mirror as he slowly winds your hair into a tight fist. His voice is low and measured, deliberate as he delivers a threat that makes your insides plummet with exhilarating dread. "I was gonna leave that vibrator inside you for an hour or so, all tied up and helpless whilst I sat back and watched the show... thought you might enjoy that."

He scans your face, delighted to see your eyes widen, doe-like and pleading. He tugs your hair back sharply, pushing your body down simultaneously so your back arches upwards, curved so prettily for him. "But then I figured... why should I miss out on all the fun?"

His gaze is hungry as it roams over your frame, his free hand following his line of sight, smoothing carefully down your spine and then over the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling your cheeks apart. You're fully exposed to him in the most indecent and undignified of positions as he studies you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he mutters darkly. "So pretty... and all for me. I'm gonna fucking wreck you Y/N. We'll see how desperate you are to go running off for Johnny's cock when I'm done with you."

You hear the harsh slap of skin a millisecond before the pain registers and you scrunch your eyes shut, crying out. You gulp back your shock but it isn't enough to brace you against the impact of the second blow, or the third or fourth, layer after layer of pain blooming with the undoubtedly large red handprint you're sure is forming now on your delicate skin. The thought alone inspires wetness to pool between your thighs, the idea that there'll be marks left on your body after your encounter, secret marks that only you and Van know about. Marks to savour and remind you, marks to show where he's been... a delicious token of your punishment.

"Eyes open," he reminds you gruffly and you obey at once, your eyes fluttering open, blinking back tears from the sting of the impact. "I want you to watch this."

"Y... Yes Sir."

Your needy gaze searches for his in the mirror, finding it quickly and locking on, a silent plea in yours for him not to go easy on you as you hear the sound of his zipper opening. Nerves and excitement shoot through your body like lightening bolts. This is what you wanted. More of him. More of anything that he's willing to give. You want him to take you apart, push your body to its limits and beyond. You don't even want to think anymore... you just want to feel... everything.

You grit your teeth as you feel his hips butt up against your ass, his unclothed cock rubbing temptingly against your slick core. You can't see him in this position but you distinctly remember how big he was, the way he filled and stretched your mouth when he forced you to choke on his cock. You know it's going to hurt... he's going to make damn sure that it does. The most blissful kind of primal sensation. The anticipation makes you whimper pitifully as he drags his hot flesh up and down your slit, teasing you.

"So fucking needy," he mutters disdainfully. "Well, go on then... beg for it if you're so desperate. Let me hear how much you want it."

You clench with arousal, your skin aflame with want, glowing hotly with humiliation. Your instinct is to dip your head and shy away from your reflection but you can't, forced to watch the shame twist your features as he controls your every movement. He maintains a punishing grip on your hair as he slides the very tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness, making you mewl.

"Please," you mumble, the words tumbling small and timid from your red smeared lips. "I want it..."

He chuckles derisively, goading you. The head of his cock presses tantalising against your entrance, the sweet pressure making you ache. You desperately try to manoeuvre your hips back to push down on him but he tuts at you scornfully, countering your movements, not giving in. Not giving you what you want.

"Is that all you've got? I'm sure you can do better than that. I know how filthy that mouth of yours is so don't try and act all coy with me now." He yanks roughly on your hair, arching your body unnaturally so he can growl low and throaty in your ear. "Beg for it Y/N... beg real pretty for me or you'll get nothing."

No one has ever made you feel like this before. No one has ever tapped into this darkness, this twisted need to be degraded and cheapened and used. The whines and whimpers that escape you are shamefully eager, your whole body singing with need, twitching and trembling like something possessed.

"Fuck me Sir... please!" You cry out, the desperation in your voice clear, punctuating the still of the house and bouncing off the walls, your breath hot on the mirror's surface, fogging it over. "I need your cock! I want you to fuck me hard... please!"

How needy you sound. Depraved. It's utterly humiliating. You cringe from your sudden outburst but you don't have time to contemplate it. You feel him shift into position behind you, you can see it in the mirror, his expression evolving into something wild and animalistic. You should be ready for it but nothing can prepare you for the way he forces himself inside you hard and unforgiving. It splits you in two, forcing a guttural groan from deep within your throat.

"FUCK!" You sob, eyes pricking with tears as you feel his cock kissing the furthest depths of your core, your walls struggling to accommodate the sudden intrusion.

It hurts but in the best possible way, dancing on that razor's edge of pain and pleasure, the sting receding as your body stretches and moulds itself around him. A hand grabs your hips with a bruising pressure as he pulls you tight against his body and leans over, the weight and heat of him enveloping you, overwhelming, clouding your senses.

"Holy shit, you feel so good," he hisses sharply, his edge of control wavering as he savours the feeling of being buried deep inside you.

He rests there for a moment, head bowed and hair hanging down whilst he mutters under his breath how good you feel... how tight you are... how fucking perfect you are for him... It makes your cunt flutter, your body poised and ready to take him, weakened but accepting. The thought that you might be witness to him losing it completely floods your whole being with a need so strong it catches you unawares. You've never needed anything so badly.

"Please Sir, please fuck me. I want it. I need it so bad."

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you," is his gruff reply, a threat you hope he'll fully deliver on as you feel the jut of his hips pressing against the swell of your ass. He pulls himself out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him until just his tip rests inside you. Excitement buzzes in your blood, your lower lip pulled between your teeth.

Without warning he snaps his hips forward in a brutal thrust that wrenches a strangled cry from your lungs, the loud smack of flesh on flesh harsh as his cock splits you open once again. And this time he doesn't stop, hips pistoning ruthlessly as he pierces you again and again with every upward drive. He feels so big and so deep in this position that you swear you can feel him in your belly.

"Fucking hell," you sob as you cling to the back of the chair, your knuckles white. You knew it would be intense but you hadn't bargained on it being quite so devastatingly all-consuming. Your shamefully fucked out expression in the mirror looks back at you through a veil of tears, your skin slick and glossy with sweat, your breasts bouncing with each merciless thrust.

"Needy slut," he hisses, drawing back enough to watch you take him, delivering another stinging blow to your ass which has your cunt clamping down on him, a surge of wetness trickling down the backs of your thighs. "Oh you like that don't you? Fuck... just look at you. Dripping wet for me. My filthy girl likes it rough, huh?"

Your mewls and whimpers and whines are all the answer he needs and he picks up his pace, every buck of his hips forcing his cock to slam hard against your cervix, the overwhelming pressure sore but blissful.

"Gonna fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else."

He looks divine in the mirror as he spits out his promise, the flush high on his cheeks, sweat pooling in the hollow of his neck and glistening on his chest where his shirt's open, strands of his dampened hair plastered to his forehead. His gaze is glued to the point where you two meet as he watches his slick length relentlessly plough into you, your hot wet tightness clutching him so perfectly.

Another whimper escapes your lips as he leans further forward so his body weight presses you down whilst he pulls your head back by your hair. He tilts your hips to a new angle so he can fuck you impossibly deeper and you feel like a broken puppet with severed strings, your delicate frame jarring with each of his relentless thrusts. He has complete control over you and all you can do is take it, fucked out of your wits, your mind emptying of everything apart from him and the mind-numbing pleasure that hurts so fucking good.

"Don't fade out baby, not yet," he croons, warm and sweet as he nips roughly at your ear-lobe. "You're gonna come for me one more time. Wanna feel you cream all over my cock."

"I can't... ahhh... I don't think... I can... fuck... it's too much..."

Even as you're saying the words you feel his hand sliding between your legs to feel the stretch of you around him, moving up to pinch at your clit, the pressure making you moan jagged and broken.

"Shh-shh-shh, I'll say when it's too much," he hushes you gently, sweeping slow circles on your abused clit, a sharp contrast to the savage pace he's fucking you with. Each collision of your bodies jolts you, raw gasps interspersed with sobs of pleasure. It's too much, much too much, bliss bubbling up through your veins and overflowing with nowhere to go.

You want so bad to just tip your head up to the ceiling and surrender to the euphoric sensations but you catch his burning gaze in the mirror and you find that you can't look away. You daren't look away.

"That's it Y/N, get a good look at who's fucking you so good. Only I get to make you feel like this." He releases your hair as his hand snakes around your neck, pulling your body up tight against his, your shoulder blades pressing into his chest. "You understand?"

You whimper in response, the only noises escaping you high-pitched whines that catch in your throat as his fingers lace firmly around it. His merciless pace doesn't falter, every mind-fracturing thrust pushing you closer to the brink, grinding deep whilst his fingers work increasingly slippery strokes on your clit.

"I said do you understand?" He demands, his grip tightening on your throat at your lack of satisfactory response. "Who's the only one who gets to fuck you like this?"

You wonder how he expects you to answer. Sounds choke in your constricted throat, your brain turned to mush so that when you try to stutter out the words 'only you Sir' they come out like a garbled sob. All you can think about is the throb at your core, the insatiable need to come again obliterating everything else. The sharp bright promise of indescribable pleasure twinkling like the sun cresting the horizon.

He chuckles at your pitiful attempt, his voice in your ear condescending. "Ahhh... is my baby too cock-dumb to speak? Well I guess I'll just have to show you then."

Your arms are shaking and you can barely feel your legs and you dimly wonder what would happen if you collapsed from exhaustion and over-stimulation right now. Would he be merciful? Would he stop? A wicked part of you hopes that he wouldn't. He's fucking you with everything he's got, his carefully composed self-control disintegrating rapidly as he pants and groans like a man possessed. Everything inside you is pulled up tight and taut, the pressure building rapidly, unbearable. You're amazed that it's even physically possible to peak again but it's the sight and sound of him like this that brings you swiftly to the edge, unhinged and feral like you've never seen him before. It's exactly what you wanted. It's everything that you've been dreaming of.

"Fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-FU-CK!" You wail, your body shuddering like you've just had a thousand volts pumped through you. Stars burst in your field of vision and your brain short-circuits as you erupt like white hot lava, the rush of heat shooting through every nerve ending, leaving you weak and boneless.

Van isn't far behind you. He finally lets go with a throaty groan of pure relief, his hips stuttering against your ass as he pumps you full, fucking you through his climax, every muscle in his body going rigid. He mutters into the skin of your neck, breathless and a little dazed himself. "So good... so good for me... fucking perfect... you did so well... my sweet, sweet girl..."

His words wisp hot and scorching over your clammy skin, sweet as sugar, cooling against the sweat which drips from your hairline.

You feel his lips on your jaw, you can see it in the mirror as he plants gentle open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck to your shoulder, tasting the salt on your skin, breathing in your scent. He's still holding you tightly against him, a hand under your jaw, another clutching you around your waist. You feel him softening inside you, the warm sticky wetness of his cum mingling with your own juices, trickling down the backs of your thighs as he moves against you to pull out.

"I don't... I can't... I don't think I can stand," you murmur quickly, panicking at the thought of him moving away and leaving you slumped over the chair. You're physically and mentally exhausted, your body wrung out and used up, surely to crumple into a heap if he lets you go. Your muscles are stiff, everything tight and aching, bruised. You can only imagine the marks you'll bear tomorrow.

"Shhh... it's okay... I've got you," he promises for the second time that night, but this time there's not a hint of mocking or threat. You wonder if you're imagining it, the sudden softness in his voice, the roughness melting away as the pent up sexual energy that's been crackling between the two of you for weeks is finally reduced to a residual hum. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna let you go."

You're still transfixed by the image before you in the mirror, the gorgeous mess he's made of you, makeup smeared over your face, eyes glazed and unfocused, glossy wetness coating your thighs. Van's right there behind you, the usual icy intensity in his eyes marred by a warmer glow. It's something close to tenderness... or so you find yourself daring to hope.

Despite your tiredness an electric buzz still simmers under your skin from the thrill of it all, little tremors like aftershocks shivering you through. Your breath snags in your lungs, struggling to surface. Soothing touches run across the skin of your mid-riff, his other hand finally tilting your face up and away from the mirror to his. He's firm but not harsh, still demanding in that thoroughly addictive way of his. His brows are knitted together in a small frown as he gazes down on you, studying you intently. "I don't think you realise how long I've been dreaming about this... having you all to myself."

"You... you've been... dreaming... about me?"

You stutter out the words, still breathless, an overwhelming shyness washing over you with his full and close attention turned on you the way that it is. For some reason you feel even more self-conscious now than you have done all night. It seems crazy considering the compromised positions he's had you in, the way he's had you on show for him all exposed and vulnerable.

When he smiles his whole face lights up, eyes crinkling in the corners, radiating an unexpected warmth. He runs his thumb softly over your cheek. "Uh-huh. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes, yes it is actually." You nestle into his palm, barely daring to breathe lest it breaks the calm kind of intimacy that's fallen over the both of you.

He never breaks eye contact as he shifts his position, the hand that was around your middle sliding down to tuck around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you quickly and without warning, almost causing you to yelp out loud in shock as he scoops you up in his arms, holding you bridal style.

"What the... what are you doing?" Your voice is high-pitched with surprise.

"You said you didn't think you could stand. I thought you might need a hand."

You reach up to rest your hands around his shoulders as he turns you away from the mirror, mind whirling with thoughts about what he has planned. "So, this dream you've been having..." you start, your gut churning with excitement and nerves. "What happens next?"

You're exiting the living room now, moving back towards the hallway, keeping your eyes trained on Van even though you want to gawp around and take everything in. He's carrying you as if you were weightless, satisfied little smile playing on his lips as he looks down on you. Fuck... he's ridiculously gorgeous. You've always thought it but there's something about seeing him in this intimate setting that makes him even more attractive. You're in so deep with this man you can't even touch the floor anymore.

"Well... I take you to bed of course."

#forbidden #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic #smut

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lackablazeical · 10 months ago

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First thing ever posted on a03 all by mah lonesome, enjoy!!!!!!

#ducktales dewey #ducktales 2017 #ducktales au #ducktales angst #ducktales #dewey duck #huey dewey and louie #huey duck #angst fanfic #angst #au fanfic

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mawrblaidddrwg · 8 months ago

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“I’m picking the song, you’ll probably pick something shitty,” Bulma whined as she nudged Vegeta trying to get him out of her way. He slipped past her easily and shoved his coin into the machine. As he began to click through a few of the options, Bulma pressed her chest against his side to lean forward and look as well. The feeling of her body touching his and the intoxicating smell of citrus and flowers in the perfume she wore was enough to distract Vegeta and for Bulma to punch in the number selection before he could stop her. She grinned victoriously as she pulled away and put distance between them.

“You’re used to getting whatever you want, aren’t you?” He said indignantly.

She palmed one hand onto her hip, noticing that his eyes followed her every movement earnestly. She intentionally stuck her hip out with slightly more oomph than was necessary.

“And what’s wrong with that?” She asked.

“Nothing, really. But what happens when you don’t get what you want for once?”

She took a step towards him, and she noticed the way that his black eyes darted to her mouth and then did a grand tour of the rest of her without any care for how obviously he was looking. It was as though he wanted her to know that he was checking her out. The tequila between them had really taken down any of the small flimsy walls that either one had up in this little back and forth conversational foreplay. She took another step forward so that they were only a few inches apart. “Something tells me that I’m not going to find out.”

Her lips were so close to his that if either of them breathed too deeply they would touch.

“Not tonight at least.”

AU set in America in 1987. Vegeta is working under the Frieza Force when he finds out the truth about who murdered his family and rival motorcycle gang, The Saiyans. He searches for his estranged cousin, Goku, to help seek revenge for the death of their families. In his travels he comes across Goku’s friend and mechanic, Bulma. He doesn’t see any harm in taking a little detour on his road to vengeance. What could possibly go wrong?

#vegebul #my fanfic #sons of the saiyans #au fanfic #I’m pretty dang excited about this one #actually posting it for real this time!

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voidcxltist · 2 months ago

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Thinking Thoughts: My AU

Okay, so, we all know that serie of "What if" in my blog, now renamed to Thinking Thoughts because of the sillies, it's something that grows popular every time I post about it (Putting it on contrast with latest post, Narilamb's angst & Narinder trans had been one of the most popular posts)

So, what if Abel actually gave back the crown, and Narinder did spare him from being sacrified?

Thoughts influenciated by TOWW on bold italic red, he's somewhat like Venom, overtaking Narinder from time to time, more lore of Narinder to come to explain this!

Thoughts in general of Narinder in bold italics,

Thoughts read by Mori on italics,

All will be followed by a slash to spoken dialogue

This is seen as probably some months after Narinder taking his place!

The dear bittersweet smell of camelias fill the air as Abel leaves a new offering to the actual god of the cult, Narinder, and retires to his hut after a successful exchange of roles. He would become his husband later in, but now, in the actuality, he was a mere follower.

Taking the robes of one, silently pleased to wear his old cult leader's outfit for some minutes, tossed his dearest fleece to the floor, he changes into it, finally staring at the mirror with a hurt look in his eyes. Again, he had to shake his feelings down and get into himself again. He was a follower, not the cult leader.

When he steps out of the hut after doing a small reflexion (thing that, ever since he was leader, everyone of the followers had to do), he crosses paths with the new leader. Used to obey his own orders, passes in front of him, despite Narinder talking at the lamb with an urgent tone.

After the sermon, the followers started leaving, and Narinder, who came down of the platform, reaches for Abel, who was looking deeply dissapointed of himself. He should've fought back, to yell... but his kindness and moral for redemption lead to him trusting on Narinder's word.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he sees a black cat, with deep red eyes and black pupils looking at him, wearing white robes with a red middle intersection, trailing up to his face again, not only the two on his face but also the one on his forehead were looking at him. He was waiting for something, surely an answer.

" Master... " - Abel mutters, looking at him

" Abel. " - Narinder says in the same tone, slightly more concerned

For Narinder, and all across these months, this feeling he had caught on his former vessel he couldn't shake it off, and it was something that he found not only awful but actually difficult. He hadn't loved anyone as fiercely as him, but still he wanted to try.

" I had to talk to you... First off, please, you know me for a lifetime, just call me Narinder " - The feline requests, letting Abel take a calmer position as he continued speaking - " I... "

"Awh, gonna get emotional? Don't try. He's not into you." / " I wanted to, to thank you formally for, ehrm-... Giving me the crown back. My silibings will be most likely pleased if I revive them now with my power given, thank you. "

" I was toyed around, wasn't I? Just a pawn to your game... why do you even thank me? " / " It'll be always my pleasure, master. It's something I had to do. " - Abel mutters with a quiet undertone of hurtness and despair.

"If you only knew how much I love you..." / " No, seriously, thank you. And, if I'm being honest with myself... You've done a good job. You weren't as stubborn as I thought "

After some silence of unease and lingering tension, finally Narinder sighed and turned his back, before Abel decided to continue on his way to the exit.

But, something made the feline turn his steps back and walk behind Abel, the both of them silently aknowledgeding that they were respectively following and being follower by each other.

Calix shared looks with Narinder, before the first cat denies with his head with dissapointment and turns his back to him, to continue helping someone who, same as his fellow cultist, turned slightly too.

And not only the rwo of them, but more cultists didn't dared to look into his eyes. Even Fabien and Gabrielle, who were extremly sociable, didn't bothered to ask a thing to the new leader.

The realization that maybe taking over his vessel's place after the first formed entirely a cult for himself was making him look exactly the opposite of what he was originally meant to be; wanting to look like a hero...

Meant to be seen as an usurper.

Despite of the lingering anxiety frowing into him, he managed to make a quiet, yet quivering meowling frkm his throat, reaching for Abel's shoulder.

" Why can't you just leave me alone... I've done so much, let me to rest. " / " Is it something the matter? " - The shorter lamb spoke, his eyes reflecting the body of Narinder.

" You're fucking it all up. Shut up. " / " I-I wanted to ask you something, if it's not uncomfortable? "

After the silent nod of Abel, he stares at him with a face filled with mixed emotions, unease, confussion, and ocer all of those, love.

" If I may... Can I, try to do things better to us...? I know how bad it was for you to lose the crown ... " A Narinder with his two tails wagging asks to Abel.

" Can you? " - The reply lingers in the air for a moment, the hurtness, the anger, all let out in two simple words.

" Whether I can or can not— " - Narinder was just noticing Abel's bell missing, since it was part of his cult leader's outfit, so he quickly undid the one he was wearing, given by one of the followers, putting it into Abel's neck with a gentle touch, before placing his paw over the golden ornament - " —It's up to you, Abel "

" He's being too kind... " / " Yeah, and what about it? I'm now just another follower, this is what you wanted, and now want to, I don't know, take it back? " - Abel says in a angry, yet also quivering voice, the tears filling his eyes as he sighes - " You made your choice anyways, and I just accomplished. I'll always do. "

As the former cult leader walked away and was opening the flap of his new tent, Narinder enters with him, still wanting to speak out at least something, an apology wasn't enough.

" Abel, you're misunderstanding everything, I didn't meant to imply I want you to take back the power, in fact, I wanted to ask you something more, something very important if I say it myself, I— "

The cat tries to extend his paw to the lamb, he turned to him, and inmediatly he took it back to his body and up to his snout, looking down, the last mentioned took two steps to Narinder, closing in their distance.

" Will you ask away now? Because I definetly can't wait to hear 'a favour'. I'm listening. " - He says, with a sarcastic remark, looking at the leader.

" I wanted to—" / " ask if you're free tonight to gaze stars? Really? You're softening a bit too much, Narinder. Are you gonna keep him waiting? Or you're expecting he falls into— "

" Shut up! I'm speaking right now! " / " What? I'm speaking my mind out... quite literally, since I coexist in you like a virus. You can't keep a bird caged too much, Narinder. Try me, and you'll see how quick I can get you down to your knees again. "

" Leader? " - The lamb looks slightly more concerned than before, raising an eyebrow as Narinder shakes his head and looks down.

After some moment of silence for Narinder to shake away that parasite of his mind, the poor feline sighed, before looking at Abel. In those black deep eyes with an horizonal white slit for pupil was flicker of... something. Narinder passed too much time in the Purgatory he didn't recognized emotions of others, but he knew it was something bad.

" Abel... Let me tell you something, and promise me you won't judge me. "

Not an answer, but a quiet nod let Narinder know Abel was both concerned and slightly interested in what he had to say.

" Look I- " - He saw a camelia laying down on the floor, surely of the flowers that Abel brought to his tent when he was asleep, he picked it up, before continuing - " I took my time to... think it out, and... You're the only person I know that has any emotions for me. You're the one who knows the good and bad of me... even if that bad it's big or small. We've been through much, but, ever since we managed to have talks in the space I was trapped in, I've felt— "

He was hearing his heart beating in his ears loudly, the anxiety that crept into him making his voice quiver and his hands to shake, progessively getting worse.

" I've felt something, trapped here inside my chest, deep down of the fur and the muscles, inside my bones, inside my heart... It's something I didn't knew I could feel, I didn't knew I could... have. You're the one that made the waiting be happier, and honestly? If I kept trapped in there for the rest of my days with you, I'd be gladfully doing it. Because you were a light that shined in the dark veil that rised down my face... you made me, kinder, happier, even more, you made me had a hope for something better— "

" So, what's the point of this? " - Abel cuts him sharply, Narinder shakes his head, aware of the fact that he trailed off the main theme, the question, right. -

" I-I wanted to ask you something. I, simply needdd to get this off my chest. "

He extends the camelia to the former leader, looking at him.

" If you still think I can't, can you give me an opportunity to make things better? To, take you as my husband? "

...

Abel's face gets a red, small blush, taking the camelia with an unsecure touch, before gulping. He knew that, by official cult's rules, the leader had to marry the follower in a ritual, no matter if they developed feelings or not. It was actually sad putting it into words, but Abel didn't denied, just looked down and sighed.

" I... I'm flattered, honestly. "

Narinder's face shines with hope, as Abel nods, turning back and putting the camelia down onto a small jar, and putting some water on it, he was trembling, and as he had a small time to think, he turns slightly his face to him

" As for a follower, I'm obligued to say yes, of course, but... As the former cult leader, I believe firmly in my moral, in that everyone can be redeemed. You've proved yourself to be the thing that the cult needs, and... yes, yes I do. Take me to the church, my dear. "

- - - - -

The dear, sweet smell of camelias fill the air as Abel leaves a new daily offering to the actual god and leader of the thrieving and joyful cult, Narinder, and retires back to their hut. Disciple and husband of the cult's leader now, who would've thought about it?

Taking the robes of the disciple that were assigned to him, changes into them, finally staring at the mirror with a melancholic look in his eyes.

Hey, the fleece in white with red accents didn't looked so bad on him.

The end <3

Hope you enjoyed it!! More to come, and wait for the Narinder's lore, I believe you may find it interesting! :3

#cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl fanart #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #cult of the lamb narinder #follower narinder #cotl #fanart #cotl fanfic #cult of the lamb fanfic #au fanfic #took me three FUCKING days #Sinful Delights AU

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