#Its his truest form kinda
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scribe-of-hael · 1 year ago
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now Starscream has been depicted with 4 optic colors
Red
Yellow
Blue
Purple
He's had the RAINBOW 🌈
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chososluvr111 · 11 months ago
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Aged Up!Neteyam x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader
Authors note; this is unfinished but it’s kinda too good to let go to waste, so enjoy🙏🙏
Synopsis: future Olo'eyktan Neteyam cops the prettiest girl in the clan as his pretty little fuck buddy, and he's completely whipped by her and wants to make her his, but she keeps turning him down. He refuses to let her doubts stop them from finding love in its truest form within one another.
Cw; Angst, Fluff, Neteyam completely in love, reader doubting her self worth, crying, VERY intense start(literally smut), friends(ish) with benefits, love confessions, flirting, L-bombs,
Wc; 6,129
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The wet squelches sounded in the small hut, along with the loud groans and moans shared between the two bodies. "Shit, baby–" Neteyam huffed out, gripping your soft hips almost bruisingly. "Damn, Yawntu–you're sucking me in–ah,fuck–s'like I was made to fuck you, baby~" His words followed with a whimper. There was so much heat between the two of you, and the man swore to himself that he could see fogs of his own breath.
Below him, you mewled softly at his sounds. Greet Mother, was he a talkative one, but you loved it. Yearned for it, even. Your thin arms helplessly wrapped around his neck, pulling him down toward you to bask in his warmth and allow his sweat slicked skin to bring you back down to Pandora.
Neteyam scrunched the mat beside your head in his fist, using his free hand to pull one of your plush thighs tighter around his waist as he quickened his pace even more. "Oh, fuck– you are so good to me Yawne, so g-ood." His voice cracked on the last word and a low growl left his lips soon after. He looked down at your smaller frame below him, his eyes heavily lidded and his mouth slightly agape.
Eywa, you were beautiful. The Great Mother had blessed him so much, and he couldn't be more greatful. The hand he had on your thigh loosened quickly, bringing itself up to sweep back the stray hairs that stuck to your perfect little face. A whimper left your throat at the action and you cracked your large eyes open, staring back at the man with your pupils ever so slightly dilated.
"Teyam.." You almost whispered, beginning to gnaw on your lower lip. "Yes, pretty girl? What is it sweetheart?" He huffed out, gazing at you lovingly. He didn't even need an answer when he felt you begin to squeeze and flutter around his cock. "M'gonna cum— I-I'm cumming—" Your pitch went up a few octaves and your eyes squeezed shut. You tightened your thighs around his waist as they begun to shake violently and dropped your head harshly, the pain of the compact not even registering due to the immense pleasure that shook through your entire body.
A strangled groan forced itself from Neteyam's throat as he too was thrown into bliss due to you, sending a few hard thrusts before pulling out and spraying his slightly blue tinted sperm on your pretty little stomach. Once he was sure he was spent, he slipped his still hardened cock back into your heat and stayed there. He leaned down and peppered feathery light kisses around your soft face, neck, jaw, ears and shoulders, whispering sweet nothings to you every so often between kisses.
After a while of this, he finally pulled out with a soft kiss to your dampened forehead to quiet the light whimper you let out at the lack of warmth. He backed off of you with a grunt and leaned over to the side where a small bowl sat filled with what was originally hot water, now turned the perfectly warm temperature due to your long session. He picked up the soft cloth that was placed neatly folded next to the bowl and dunked it into the water, turning his attention back to the beautiful woman in front of him.
He smiled softly when he registered your exhausted face, lips slightly glossed over and parted, eyes shut and the skin of your brows slightly crinkled. He brought the dampened cloth up and ever so gently wiped away his semen before dragging it down between your toned thighs and delicately wiping away the slick, making sure to be soft as ever when he reached your swollen cunt.
Once finished, he put the now dirty rag back into the bowl and moved to lay beside you, gently pulling your body to rest against his chest instead of on the mat below the two of you.You hummed softly when you felt his warmth, curling into his side and nuzzling your face into his neck. He pushed down the needy mewl that threatened to escape his throat and wrapped his tail protectively around your hip, his ears flickering every so often as the bushy end of his tail tapped softly against your side, obviously showing his excitement and joy in your position.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, simply basking in each other's company before the inevitable came. Neteyam's heart skipped a beat when you began to speak, the hand he had placed under you paused its lazy circling on your back. "Teyam," the word was soft and gentle, your angelic tone making his heart do somersaults in his chest before it clenched painfully at the fact that he knew what you was going to say next.
"Yes, my light?" He hummed almost hesitantly in a whisper, afraid that if he spoke to loud, the moment would end. "Tarsem is expecting me. I am to join him on a hunt in a few moments." You deeply inhaled his scent before gently kissing where his shoulder met his neck. "Can you not skip it, Yawntu? Just want you all to myself a bit longer." His ears fell when you sat up, a frown making its way onto his face. Jealously filled every crevice of his being, rolling off of his aura in thick waves.
He quickly sat up after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his forehead against your shoulder blade. "You know I want to, but he is my teacher, I can not flake out on him with nothing short of a notice." You turned your body to face him again, leaning forward to push one of his long braids behind his drooping ears.
He couldn't help the enlargement of his pupils as he gazed so lovingly at your pretty face, taking your free hand into his much larger one to gently smooth over your knuckles.
It took everything in you not to visibly flinch and tear away from the man and run away from that dreaded look. That look that you were so not used to seeing.
Lust filled gazes, envy filled gazes, you was used to those. That was all you ever seen.
But you didn't know if you could ever get used to the way he looked at you. With such compassion, such pride and devotion, such love. "Will you help me put this on?" You finally spoke, focusing your gaze on the necklace that was neatly placed to the side. Neteyam was always so gentle when it came to you, and that still applied when it came to removing your clothing. His fingers always so gentle to not tear anything and ruin your pretty jewelry or even prettier loincloths.
"Of course, ma'yawne. Anything you want." He spoke gently, already reaching for the jewelry. You huffed out of your nose, taking his free hand into yours and pulling the both of you up. He watched carefully when you crouched back down to grab what he guessed was your neck accessory before standing back up to your full height. You turned your back to him, reaching your slim hand behind you to sweep your long braids to one side of your head, silently allowing the warrior permission to put on the necklace.
He worked quick to secure the pretty woven material around your neck, trying to replicate that perfect little bow that you always seemed to do with them. He silently cheered himself on in his head when he did it, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder to signalize he was done.
"This as well, please?" You almost whispered out when you registered his long fingers leaving your neck. His eyes trailed down your slim figure and stopped at the base of your tail, which swayed ever so softly, your bushy tip tapping his ankle every so often. Your hands were holding the strings of your loincloth to your sides, pinning them in place. You could tie it yourself, hell, you've been doing it all your life, but you guiltily didn't want the feeling of his burning touch leaving your soft skin yet.
Neteyam hummed in response, a grin settling on his face, sharp canines on display, as he reached his fingers down to grasp the strings you were holding. He paused for a moment, trying to remember how you had it tied this time around. It would've taken longer to remember if it weren't for the fact that he shamelessly always had his eyes on your tail anytime he seen your pretty backside and it was easy enough to replicate the style.
He let his fingers run down the base of your tail for a moment, just to make your spine tingle a bit before hie dropped his hands to his side. You let out a soft chuckle, turning to face him with a crank of your neck, the close proximity forcing you to look up higher than usual. You trailed your soft hands up his toned chest, eliciting a low groan from him when you hooked your thin finger into his choker, pulling him toward you in an almost rough manner.
He raised his brow, almost daring you to continue. But of course, you didn't. Instead, placing a quick peck onto his nose. "I will see you at dinner, yes?" There goes that angelic voice again, like the prettiest song he had ever been blessed enough to hear. "Mm, must I go the rest of daylight without seeing you? You wound me, Yawntutsyìp." You giggled a bit at his teasing, your deep dimples displayed like prizes when you smiled so genuinely.
"Yes, you must. Save me a seat next to you." Referring to dinner, you placed a lingering kiss to his cheekbone before finally forcing your hands off of his warm body and beginning to exit the large tent.
"I always do." He muttered out after you left. He wasn't lying, he always left a space for you during dinner but you had never actually sat there, always telling Neteyam you would feel out of place. Then his eyes widened when he fully registered your words. Were you finally going to sit next to him? Meet his family and make it known to everyone that you were truly his?
Neteyam felt his chest flutter for a good few seconds before it tightened, disappointment now filling every inch of his strong, toned body. The grin on his face slowly fell, along with his ears, and his tail drooped lamely to the floor.
In the moment, everything was great. It was so easy to convince himself that you two were mates, fooling himself for what felt like a lifetime until you undoubtedly left and it would sink in. You weren't his, and he wasn't yours. Oh, how envious he was of his naive self just moments ago, when all the distress and confusion and anger would leave his body when he got to spend time with you.
He had built a home within your presence and couldn't will himself to ever leave.
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:readmore:
He had to remind himself at least a hundred times a day that you weren't his, but he couldn't help the jealousy. He didn't like to share.
When dinner time finally approached, his mood changed drastically and everyone took note to it, though never mentioning it, of course. He was so happy, helping his parents place down all the food and setting up the fire, organizing the many platters so everyone was able to get one fit for them.
When he sat down next to his youngest sister, his family members took note to the obvious empty spot next to him that he always kept there. They wouldn't have otherwise noticed if it weren't for the fact that he seemed to almost growl at anyone who dared to take a seat there, even his own friends.
They were completely awestruck and surprised when you walked over, wordlessly taking a seat next to the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan and sending him a sweet smile. They all watched as the boy stared blatantly at you as though you had personally hung up each individual star in the sky. His pupils were slightly blown and his ears were firmly pressed to the sides of his head, that awestruck expression permanently displayed on his face.
He'd introduce you to his family, finally, with a giddy tone, bragging about your many titles and claiming you as his bestest friend.
Lo'ak knew this wasn't the case, though.
Ever since the first time you two had fucked, Neteyam made a mental note to himself that he would brag about it to Lo'ak, without saying your name of course. He'd also made a mental note that he wanted to introduce you to his family immediately, allowing you into the depths of his life and silently seeking approval from you and his family so he knew he could carry on with his nonexistent and unofficial plan of courting you.
His family was exceptionally nice, admittedly a bit weirded out by Neteyam's behavior but chalking it up to nothing and being overall very kind and accepting of you. It went unnoticed to them, or at least Neteyam thought so, seeing as no one commented on it– not even Tuk who always pointed out the obvious,—how his tail wrapped around your waist and how he pulled the two of you closer together.
He was borderline purring every time he spoke to anyone, though his eyes always glanced at you. He offered you his platter which was filled with many fruits, vegetables and meats to your liking. You were more than sure he did it on purpose, but you accepted his gestures, making a point to feed him some of the food every so often so the fool didn't starve.
His parents quickly caught onto this behavior and made silent mental notes to one another to speak to their son about the very public display of courtship when he hadn't even consulted them yet. They wouldn't say anything yet though, to spare the both of you the embarrassment.
The dinner had passed too quickly for Neteyam's liking and before he could ask to walk you to your tent, his parents were dragging him away, claiming they needed to discuss some Olo'eyktan business or whatever poor excuse Jake came up with.
His parents were quick to scold him for his such public displays of affection for a woman they had never truly even met up until then. He was quick to calm them down though, assuring them that you were in fact worth it and telling them he planned on courting you. After a short discussion and mulling it over, Neytiri and her husband somewhat accepted of this, they would never tell their children who they could and couldn't love, but they needed some more time to approve of this girl and discuss Tsahik training as soon as possible.
Neteyam was ecstatic to have gotten the approval that he yearned for from his parents; the two most important people in his life. Their opinions of you mattered more than anything. He was quick to thank his parents before bidding them farewell and making his way over to your tent.
With a large grin on his face, he pulled the privacy flap back and entered, eyes scanning the area before finally falling onto you who was busy weaving what looked to be another piece of jewelry. Neteyam swooned, you were so talented at so many different things. How could you not see it?
"Hello, my light." He cooed softly, watching as your tail flickered happily at the sound of his voice. You peered over your shoulder, smiling sweetly at the sight of your dearest friend.
"Hi, 'Teyam," Your soft, angelic voice spoke so soothingly. Neteyam was scared he would melt into a literal puddle on your floor. He pushed down the purr that itched to escape from the confines of his throat and instead slowly begun walking toward where you were seated on the ground.
"Back for seconds already?" You teased. Neteyam laughed, taking a seat directly in front of you. He pondered for a moment. "Not originally, but if you're offering..." He joked back. Well, half joked. You giggled lightly, an airy sound, so heavenly to Neteyam's ears.
"I apologize for not walking you home tonight, my parents weren't very happy with me." He sighed, gazing longingly at you. You gave a soft shrug, focusing your attention back onto the neck piece you were weaving and avoiding Neteyam's intense gaze that you could practically feel.
"It is alright, there is always tomorrow." The both of you fell into a calm silence, save for the light crackling of the small fire in the room that provided you with a light source.
You weren't an idiot, you had a small hunch at what Neteyam was coming here to talk to you about after the way he acted tonight–you of course being no help and enabling the behavior– ,but you were scared of your suspicions truly being true. You bit your lip as you waited inevitably for what was to come, the conversation that you were dreading most since the start of you and the future leader's interesting friendship.
"Baby?" The English nickname had your heart stuttering in your chest. You hadn't originally known what it meant, but after asking Neteyam one night you learned it was a term of endearment. Something his father called his mother when he was much younger.
A term lovers used with one another.
It felt as though the room had shrunk smaller. You swallowed, still focusing on your task at hand. "Yes,'Teyam?" Your heart beat erratically in your chest. "We need to talk." His words were light, airy. If it were any other person in any other moment, you wouldn't be half as scared as you were now.
"We are talking." You forced a light laugh. Neteyam didn't respond for a few seconds, instead placing his large hand over yours to pause your actions. You did, swallowing dryly and ears lowering themselves until they were pinned to the side do your head.
"Can you look at me, please?" No, you wanted to tell him. Because you were scared of what you would see. What you knew would be waiting for you. That look, the one you had only recently had the displeasure of seeing thanks to the warrior in front of you. That look of intense love that you never even knew was capable for one to hold solely in a gaze, an expression.
Or maybe he had stared at you like that forever, since he had first laid eyes on you when you both were sixteen. And you only noticed recently how his pupils were always blown, how his cheeks were always tinted in color, how his golden eyes seemed to shine even brighter than usual when he was looking at you only.
"Okay." The word left you before you could stop it. You quietly held your breath as you prepared to look up. Your eyes slowly left your nimble fingers and raised, taking in every detail of Neteyam before finally stopping at his large eyes. You forced yourself not to look away and allowed a soft grin to play at your lips as you timidly stared at the man you had claimed as your friend.
Neteyam let out a soft sigh of content when you eyes reached his, and he couldn't help the way his pupils expanded upon finally being blessed with the sight of you focused solely on him. "You are magnificent, beauty in its truest form." His words were spoken softly before he could even stop himself. Your mask cracked and you smiled genuinely at him, your gaze lowering bashfully for a split second.
"You are so corny." you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes to disregard the way your tail nearly smacked the back of your head in delight. Neteyam grinned widely, canines on full display and eyes just barely crinkled due to the largeness of it as he chuckled. He removed your hands from the jewelry you were still holding and interlocked his hands with yours, squeezing your palms in his.
"You have that affect on me." He spoke with a joking tone but the both of you knew truer words had never been spoken. You gave his hands a squeeze and laughed softly to ward off any tension that threatened to fall upon your shoulders.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You finally said, taking note of the way Neteyam's smile faltered for a quick second. That was all the confirmation that you needed to know what he would say next would be the last cut to sever the thin line between lovers and whatever the two of you were.
He stared at you for a few moments, still smiling softly but you could see the turmoil hidden in his gaze, the slight giveaway of his thoughts within the way the skin between what would be his brows was slightly creased. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He paused, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip and his gaze lowering to your interlocked hands.
He had known you for years, and he was there for you when others weren't. When you experienced heartbreak, when you experienced joy, when you were hurt, when you were singing, when you were laughing. He was there for it all. You just never knew.
You never took notice to the ways his gaze always lingered when you were kids, never took notice to the way Lo'ak or Kiri had always asked you if you were interested in any of the male friends you had– courtesy of Neteyam forcing them to,
never took notice to the way he only ever left trinkets and gifts that you loved to make jewelry out of in your tent with small notes telling you how he hoped you'd enjoy those gifts without revealing his identity,
never took notice to the way he always hovered around protectively to make sure you never got hurt.
You never took notice of him until he finally got the courage to speak to you, years later.
"My light, I must ask that you promise me something." He finally spoke. "Of course, Nete." He smiled at your quick response. "Promise me, you will wait until I finish speaking that you will say something." You smiled teasingly at his words. "I suppose I can." You responded with a small tilt of your head, giving a reassuring squeeze to his large hands. Neteyam let out a soft sigh through his nose, eyes dancing between each of your own, finding it hard to focus on just one or both at the same time.
He ran his thumbs over your knuckles, bringing your hands up to press gentle, lingering kisses upon the backs of them. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your gaze softened unintentionally at him, giving him your undivided attention.
"I thought after all these years, I would have had the courage to tell you long ago, but it seems time is running from us and we are getting older. Eventually I will lose my chance and I don't know what I'd do if I was never able to tell you." He begun to speak. You smiled nervously at his words, still weary of the inevitable that you knew wasn't far out of reach. But you listened intently, hoping whatever he'd conclude to say would bring you to give him the right answers.
"These years I've known you seem to have gone by so fast and I cannot say I am not saddened by it. Every moment I spend with you seems too short, and as the days go by, that time seems to grow even shorter. You are everything to me, the sun, the moon, the stars. You are the light of my life." He spoke so delicately.
You were a bit confused at what he meant by 'these years'. You had only just officially met him a year and a few months ago, when the two of you first slept together and begun your secret rendezvouses. But you decided you would get your answers later, keeping your promise of only speaking when he had finished.
"The reason I get up every morning, what I see every time I close my eyes. It's all you. Ma'Tìyawn, you do not understand the effect you have on me. The pain you bring me when you are not near is unbearable, incomparable to anything I've even felt. But it is all worth it for just a glimpse of your smile when I see you or to have your body pressed against mine. I've known since I first laid eyes on you that I was in love with you. You truly do not understand the power you have over me, over my heart, my soul, my body."
Your throat felt like it was closing up and your eyes widened at his confession. You released his hands from yours and gasped, using one of your hands to hide your ajar mouth. "Oh, Neteyam," you whispered out before swallowing dryly.
He only smiled lovingly at you.
"I accepted it, after a while. That you would never love me the way I love you. That our flirting was just that, friendly banter between two strangers. So I convinced myself that my feelings for you were gone, and you were just another clan member. And then we sleep together for the first time and it all came rushing back tenfold. That night, when I went to you tent to talk about what we had done the night before, I was finally going to admit to you my feelings that I had bottled up for years, and you told me you didn't regret it, so I really thought I'd had a chance," He paused,smile finally falling into a frown as he looked down at his now lonely hands, balling them into first.
"And then you told me you hoped it didn't interfere with our lives, and you just needed that relief. So we didn't stop after that. And I convinced myself again that I was fine with this. I had you in a way no one else has, and that was enough. But it's not enough. It's never been enough. I don't want to only touch you in the safe confines of our homes, I don't want to have to sneak around so no one catches onto what we do, I don't want to listen to the way other men talk about you as though you are a piece of meat and have to pretend to not care."
You bit your lips as tears filled your eyes and begun to fall, the pain you felt clenching your heart was unbearable.
Neteyam softened, reaching his hands up to wipe away your tears, scooting closer until your knees were practically touching. He frowned, the sight of your tears making his heart clench. "Do not waste your tears on me, my light." He mumbled out with a teasing smile, but it didn't help your tears. You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew this was a bad idea the first time it happened and you knew you should've stopped then. Especially given you had took the virginity of the Olo'eyktan's son, as he did yours.
Premarital sex was not only frowned upon, but with the future leader no less would definitely leave you without a mate for the rest of your life if anyone knew. You knew you were attractive physically, and that always seemed to stop people from ever actually getting to know you and only to thirst after you. You were sure Neteyam would be no different, but after giving yourself to him, for the first time in your life, you felt relief. Relief of the stress that came with being a warrior in training, relief of the stress that came with war, relief of the stress that came with the realization that no one wanted you for you, but for your body.
So you didn't want to stop. You ached for the few minutes of bliss where you could just forget, and within a year following the both of you and your continuing actions, the few minutes turned into at least an hour of the two of you just basking in the heat of one another.
You forced yourself to never question and never register that Neteyam was falling in love with you, but it was getting harder to ignore, and you found yourself indulging in the attention you never thought you'd get from another person other than for your physical appearance. Outside of sex, you didn't really know Neteyam, and you didn't want to. Because he wanted to know you, and for that you were scared. Scared that even after he met the real you, he wouldn't want anything to do with you other than sex.
"Neteyam, you..." You placed your hand onto top of his that were still gently holding your face and wiping away your tears. "You don't– you can't love me." You shook your head. His smile never faltered, still staring at you with those blown pupils and bright honey-glazed eyes. "Why not?" He asked in curiosity. You huffed, sniffling and lip quivering as you tried to ignore that ache in your heart that seemed to grow with every passing moment.
"Because you don't even know me– we've never even- never even spent time together, just the two of us, outside of sex." Your voice cracked on the last word, skin of your brows pushing together and gaze falling to stare at Neteyam's chest instead of his face.
Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek to stop whatever negative expression that itched to show at your words. That was true, he had to admit. You two never socialized outside of what you did in one another's home. But that was because you were always making excuses.
"That doesn't mean I don't know you, Yawne." He spoke gently, thumbs now caressing your cheekbones since your tears stopped falling. "I know that your favorite thing to do in your spare time is make jewelry to gift to your loved ones. I know your favorite food are Lionberry seeds. I know that your favorite animal are the Pa'li."
You scoffed. "Those are all basic things I have mentioned to everyone." You shook your head.
"I know you like to hum your mothers old lullaby when you're gathering. I know you poke your tongue out of the side of you mouth when your deep in thought. I know you incorporate specific colored beads into your hair that represents the color of your fathers old cummerbund that you have pinned up on the wall. I know you like to sing and dance with the young children because you feel like they are the only ones who truly see you for who you are." His voice grew quieter with every confession.
Your eyes are widened now, but you still don't think it's enough. You look off to the side, not even wanting to look at the warrior anymore.
"I know you pick at the skin of your arms when you talk to people because your anxious of their intentions. I know it took you years to decide you wanted to train to become a warrior because it helps you feel closer to your parents. I know you. I See You. I love you." He finished by gently pressing a kiss to your nose.
A sob fell past your lips and you quickly scooted away from him, the warmth of his body no longer bringing you the solace you itched for.
You wanted to believe him, and maybe a part of you did– but you buried that part into the depths of your soul, refusing to let it resurface and give you hope of something you would've never thought you could receive. Because hope was for losers, and you were tired of losing.
"No, we– this is purely physical. That's all it is. All it is supposed to be." You argued, your head shaking as you wiped away a new wave of tears dribbling down your soft cheeks.
"But it doesn't have to be. I-I..You can try to convince yourself all you want, but we both know my feelings are not one-sided." The skin of Neteyam's brows furrowed together, his voice still soft to not rile you up. You slumped, letting your head fall into your hands as your thoughts ran a mile a minute. Your head was starting to hurt and you were already tired from this conversation.
"What would even come from this?" Your voice spoke out before you could stop it, your face still buried in your hands.
"What?"
You gathered what thoughts you could and raised your head to stare at the man before you. You took in his slightly confused expression and decided to continue on. "If we were to become lovers, what would that entail?" Neteyam frowned, blinking at you, but his cheeks grew in color at the simple thought of being lovers.
"You are to be the leader of this clan, given a few years, 'Teyam. W-would I have to train to become the next Tsahik? Would your parents even approve of their noble son mating with an impure woman who hasn't even made a name for herself?"
"I'm not made for that kind of life— I wouldn't be able to handle the pressure!" You finished with another sob. Neteyam could feel his heart clench in his chest.
"Then I'll give up being the future leader if it means I wouldn't be able to spend my life with you. Tarsem could take my place instead." Your eyes widened at the statement.
"Neteyam, no! You can't give up your entire future just for me—" Neteyam scoffed.
"Baby, I'd cut off my head if you asked me to. A silly title is nothing compared to a lifetime with you." He finished with that gorgeous grin of his. You could feel you cheeks heat up at his statement. He was willing to give up his entire future for you. But why? You weren't anything special, just another woman in the clan. You were an exceptional warrior, but nothing outstanding. Nothing that was worthy enough to have the heart of the greatest warrior in the clan. The greatest man in the clan.
But looking up and meeting that gaze, you knew you wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. It would be pointless to try. And yet you couldn't help it.
"You... You deserve so much more than me, Neteyam. You deserve someone who could give you the whole world—"
"You are the whole world. You're my entire universe, Ma'Tìyawn. Your eyes, they shine so bright when you are happy, like two large stars. And your smile, so blinding, like the sun. Your joy puts the Sky's to shame. The constellations are meaningless compared to you."
Your mind was empty. You didn't know what else you could say to show him it would never work out, so you just said the first thing that popped up in your head.
"I'm not in love with you." And the whole world seemed to stop. Neteyam's expression faltered and slowly fell. You were holding your breath. Had this finally got him? Was this the end of this excruciating conversation?
And yet, your heart felt even heavier than before.
"You're lying."
"What?"
"You're lying to me." His eyes narrowed.
—————
Not this unfinished ending feeling like a cliffhanger… maybe if this does well I’ll try and make a part two🤗
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gojos-thot-patrol · 2 years ago
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For the jjk boys, can you please do kissing hcs? How do they like to smooch 😘
I just lover imagining how our boys love and how they express that love, however healthy (or toxic) it may be
Now Presenting....
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Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna
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Satoru Gojo
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Gojo kissed excited and passionately
Gojo kisses like he’s never kissed before no matter how many times you’ve kissed
Gojo kissed you like he can’t get enough of you, pulling you impossibly close
There's a 40% chance that he just starts giggling cause he’s so happy and can’t contain himself
He kissed you whenever he can, sometimes looking for you for no other reason than to kiss you
And he can never leave it at just one kiss. It’s always at least 2
All of that being said though his favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. 
It’s so sweet and gentle, and very intimate. Its pure
He’ll kiss your forehead to comfort himself man
He pours his sweet, excited, purest form of love into every kiss. 
You can feel his adoration for you in the way his soft lips move against yours.
He pours affection into every kiss he’d ever give you
Fluffy man, when I think of Gojo’s kisses I just think fluffy
It’s the truest form of love in his kiss, because he’s very choosy about the people he kisses
If Gojo lets infinity down long enough to kiss you, you know you’re dear to him. 
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Suguru Geto
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Sugurus kisses are loud in a quiet way. Let me explain
He’s more the words of affirmation type, less the touch-y feel-y type
So when he kisses you, it’s normally slow and measured
He really likes to take his time with it, and really savor it
He’s not gentle by any means, nay nay
He holds you close and tight, like holding onto you is the only thing keeping him grounded to this earth
And he’s a little desperate, a little needy.
Like he desperately needs you to feel this love in the same way he does, to justify the flurry of emotions every time he’s near you.
But he doesn’t want to say all of that outloud, that would feel too raw. 
So. he says all of that in the way he kisses you. Begging you to say ‘I love you too’ in a way he’d understand
And he tries to get all of that across in a singular, tender kiss.
It’s tender and loving but is screaming so many things he can’t force himself to say.
His kisses may not happen as often as you’d like but when they do they mean something
He finds kissing vulnerable, so feel special you get to kiss him
….Is it just me or did this turn out weirdly angst???
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Kento Nanami
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Nanami is probably the most casual kisser of the bunch ngl
He probably kisses you the second most out of all of them though (No one’s beating Gojo.)
He kisses you whenever he gets a chance.
Going to work, getting home from work, before bed, waking up in the morning
Almost every new part of your day is started with a quick kiss
Nanami's kisses are warm and familiar. 
Kinda like wrapping up in your childhood blanket
He almost always tastes like black tea
He doesn’t see kissing as some sort of grand statement or thesis for a relationship. He just sees it as another way to express fondness
This does not mean he is above getting lost in a good make out session though, nay nay. He believes a good make out session can make a shitty day wonderful
Loves to kiss your forehead and cheeks. 
Just any way he can to express these small forms of affection.
It’s a casual and quiet kiss yes
But it’s also intensely tender and caring and full of adoration
A friendly reminder of just how much you mean to him
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Ryomen Sukuna
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If I were you I would simply not kiss Ryomen Sukuna.
Choose self love instead bestie, this man is not it
Ryomens kisses are all teeth and tongues
It’s rough and dominating, He’s kissing to own you, not love you
His kisses are made up of lust and obsession.
He never kisses without a motive. That motive is almost always either to fuck you or own you
He’ll kiss you whenever there are any potential “Threats” (as he likes to call them) around, just to make sure they know you’re his
To his credit, his kisses are extremely passionate. They’re heated and in a fucked up kinda way intoxicating.
It’s hard not to get caught up in his fire when he’s kissing you like it’s the last thing the two of you will ever do
He’ll kiss any part of you he can in order to mark you. Gotta mark what's his
Sukuna’s kiss is wicked and possessive, just like how he loves, just like how he is
I do think he can and has kisses you tenderly, mostly in moments of true vulnerability
But those moments are very few and far between!
And he gets upset both with himself and you for those moments ever happening
Anyways, choose love not Sukuna my friends.
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infernalodie · 1 year ago
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𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐬𝐞𝐱 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚
“𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, ��'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥“
Inspo: EMELINE - flowers & sex
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Reader
Summary: A mixed concoction for pleasure...
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Warnings: Smut, bondage, vibrator, drugs (non-lethal), praise kink, dacryphilia and just some animalistic fucking.
a/n: kinda just random tbh. if its shit, my bad. i kinda just rushed it and filled in spots, so it for sure isn’t perfect.
Words: 1966
DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!
“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” There was a clear layer of humour in your words. The mockery that you made Miguel be submitted to. Genuinely, you were enjoying yourself.
Not many knew of this beautiful side of Miguel. Tied up, forced to his knees and completely bare for anyone curious about the choked whines heard inside the small office in his Spider-Society. A vibrator was attached to his twitching cock. The fiery red tip leaking pre cum caused a tiny puddle to form between his legs. A strap from the back of his head formed around and met a piece of wood that was forced between his teeth. Causing drool to slip from the corner of his mouth and display his sharp teeth.
He was as pliant as always. Yet, it never ceased to amaze you how someone to control driven would be on his knees, whimpering like a puppy, for you.
You met Miguel after Hobie had brought you into the fold when dealing with a villain that pierced into your reality. And when you met the Big Boss, you were not impressed. He was arrogant. He hated when someone protested against his decisions and he hated the fact that you fell under the criteria of everything he despised. 
Yet, here he was.
It wasn’t ideal that today would’ve dissolved into this. He had work to do. But seeing you ignore his complete existence during the mission debriefing, he couldn’t help himself. He hated seeking some sort of approval from you. But when he did receive it–when you were willing to praise him. “Good job, baby,” he fell under the umbrella of your love and he prayed to hear more.
He could break free from the webbing if he really wanted to. But hearing you whisper filthy things in his ears or the idea of someone so small compared to him making him feel minuscule under your painful pleasure was too good to pass up.
In front of him, you stood leaning against the edge of a table in his office. Your head tilted and eyes scanning his body with a sense of amusement and pride. He knew you liked holding these moments against him. Bringing them into a disagreement and shutting him up in an instant. But he also knew there was a mixture of love in your eyes. There would always be love.
“I have a gift for you, Mig,” you announced, smiling mischievously at the man. His teary eyes stared up at you with a hint of fear and excitement. You reach behind you, grabbing at his injector and a vile. Much like the Rapture ones, the contents had a red liquid inside instead of green. “Do you want to know what it is, sweetheart?”
His muffled words made you grin, sliding the vile into the injector and hearing it click. Pushing away from the table with a smile as you said, “I tweaked your Rapture serum. Think of it as something that brings your truest desires to the surface,” you explained, walking around his quivering body. Miguel wished to see what you were doing, but he felt one of your hands cover his eyes and force his head back–Pressing the needle to the pulse point on his neck and chuckling. “I’m going to break you, Miguel. I’ll inject you with all the viles until you’re begging me to stop. Crying and quivering for me.”
And before he could even protest, the needle pierced his skin. It pulled a grunt from Miguel’s throat and for a moment there was a pinch of pain. It subsided with a deep high taking its place before an almost animalistic entity took control of his mind. He was very present, but his scent had intensified, the constant vibrations echoing through his cock grew and the sound of your soft breathing could be heard. Feeling like he reverting to his natural state of desire. Hips bucking with the need to be inside you–Your mouth or tight hole that was made for him.
“Different, huh?” You asked, a hint of a smile in your words. Every bit of Miguel shifted and adapted to the serum. His skin was burning up more than it had been before. Cheeks brightened in their tint of a blush and his breaths were laboured with faint growls ripping from his throat. The inside of your pants was drenched, giving you some sort of justification to strip. Leading you to unbuckling your pants and peeling them off; leaving you in one of his shirts that draped your figure.
Sliding down to your knees, you pressed your front to his back, smiling at the desperate growls that fell from his lips. Legs twitching in an attempt to shut. But he was stopped by your hands planting on his thighs, peeling them open wider.“I had MJ test it with Peter B Parker. Safe to say that she suggested I make more.” Your hands scrolled up the side of his torso, hands wrapping around to run over his sensitive nipples.
Each move was sleek and methodical. Only poking the feral being that continued to buck his hips in desperation of reaching his high. And with a thoughtful look on your face, your hands pinked his pebbled nipples for a split moment before they slid down to his dripping cock. Slowly stroking it, pulling a groan from the man who fucked your hand.
The desperate sounds falling from his mouth were adorable. Same with the drool that seemed to slip from his parted lips. His mouth salivating from what you guessed was the scent of your blood and the need to cum.
MJ had gone through all the symptoms she had been able to “notice” when she used it on Peter. You knew that it would be different for everyone, but from all the things MJ said, it seemed to intensify with Miguel’s powers. His need for your blood. The ache between his legs becoming more strong. And every word or touch you pressed upon his senses were doubled.
It showed by his head reclining back into your shoulder. Hips stuttered with their inconsistent rhythm that you aided him through with quick pumps of your hand. He could feel your lips against his shoulder, curled in a grin at the sight of him so needy.
And soon enough, he moaned, body trembling with the only indication of his finish coming from his muscle flexing against you.
“Fuck yes, Miguel. Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me, please!” You stroked his cock rapidly, tongue peeking from between your lips and pressing against the bruise where the injector pierced. Miguel was a crying and whimpering mess, hips bucking relentlessly as his teeth bit down harder around the wood.
A deafening crack sounded the instant thick ropes of cum spilled across the floor. And when you least expected it, you felt the fabric of the muzzle drift across your cheek and the webbing you had secured around his limbs let out a deafening snap. One thing you had always underestimated was Miguel’s speed. Even in combat or just traversal through certain universes, he was fast. So, when you suddenly felt your body be tossed onto the table harshly in the blink of an eye, you shouldn’t have been surprised.
But what took your breath away was his cock, which still had the vibrator attached to him, slid inside of you with a ruthless thrust. It made your hands snap up to his chest, eyes wide, and breath strangled. Miguel grabbed your hands and slammed them to be held above your head. Pounding into your tight hole with no control or sense of mercy in mind.
His fangs didn’t hold back from piercing your shoulder, a deep groan rippling through his chest. You moaned, gasping for air as you slapped his chest, nails digging into his suit. “M-Miguel-!” His hips sharply slammed into yours, the buzzing of the vibrator and ropes of his cum filling you sending you over the edge. Finding balance and grounding with your hands tugging and gripping the roots of his hair whilst his claws cut into your sides. Legs curling around his waist as you orgasm.
There were a few moments where Miguel regained his breathing, the drug slowly wearing off as he looked up at you tiredly. But the moment he did, he felt the needle pierce his skin. His mind reverted to its predatory state.
But before he lost full control, he saw you take a vile and inject it into your own neck. Hands trembling with the device slipping from your grasp. He wanted to reach forward and see if you were okay, but it hardly mattered when he saw your entire attitude shift. A wicked grin formed on your lips as you tightened your hold around his waist. Forcing his cock to bottom out inside of you. His thick white cream dripped from your fluttering hole and created a sinful ring around the base of his cock. Smearing across his length.
“Don’t disappoint me, Miguel.”
Hours had seemed to slip past the both of you. Your body ached and vibrated with pleasure while Miguel was shaking between your legs which locked him in position. How could something so good be so fucking good? There was no answer to the question as his cocked throbbed in agony from the countless times he’d pounded your tight hole. And each time he came, another shot of that liquid was sent into his bloodstream. Sending him into another tirade to claim you.
You lay on the table, panting with your hands threaded through your hair. A hint of a smile danced across your swollen lips as you looked up at your boyfriend through half-lidded eyes. He had tears streaming down his cheeks, doing his best to hide the sob that dared to escape.
It was humiliating.
And you loved it.
So, when he saw you grab the injector, he wept harder and shook his head. “Please, Miel. No. No, no, no, no.” You ignored his pleas, pressing the barrel to his skin.
But you paused, tilting your head at the man. “What did I tell you, Miguel?”
Your inquiry was just above a soft whisper. Its essence is filled with warmth, but a sense of unfulfillment is mixed. He didn’t want to disappoint. He didn’t want you to ignore him. And although it hurt to continue, if it meant you told him he did amazing, then he would continue.
Exhaling shakily, the man licked his lips. Tasting the salty tears on his tongue. “J-Just, please. Please, let me breathe for a second.”
You allowed the injector to fall from his skin slowly despite your want to torture him. Allowing him that even little bit more room to regain his bearings. Allowing your freehand to sweep a few of his rogue strands of hair out of his face. Thumb softly brushed across his cheek, wiping the tears from his face.
These were the few moments that he loved dearly. When he got to be the subject of your warmth and love. Outside of sex, there weren’t many moments the two of you could share like this. The risk of the others finding out or the clear favouritism he had for you would disrupt the balance the two of you formulated.
Swallowing the cement in his throat, he nodded. “Ok, I’m good.”
You bit your bottom lip, softly pressing the injector to his neck. “I think I’ll have to do more tests. Maybe I can make something that could make me your free toy.” The way his eyes brightened at the prospect made you laugh. His weak and abused cock twitched inside you, pulling a groan from between your lips. “I guess that’s a yes.”
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wordsonamission · 7 months ago
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67 or 81 for the kiss prompts? 😘
Hello! Thanks so much for this, sorry I took forever to reply. But you get 1300 words for waiting! (I hope it's worth it).
I'm thinking about posting this on A03 later, I kinda like it. And you know me, standard warnings for angst and softness apply. I like the other prompt too (we just broke up, let's kiss one last time) so let me know if there's any interest in writing for that, too.
The prompt: icemav #67 Leaning into your lover's touch, their fingers tracing down your stomach, their body pressed against yours.
The clatter and hum of carrier life was all around them. Never a dull moment, never any sense of real peace or privacy. Silence was akin to sacrilege and learning to sleep among the endless noise of engines and the constant thrum of life from the crew of thousands was difficult. Once adjusted, however, sleeping among the tranquil stillness and hushed sounds of civilian life became nearly unbearable.
It wasn’t the carrier’s sounds that kept Maverick awake. His body ached all over: his jaw throbbed from how tightly he’d clenched it since Goose’s death, his back and neck spasmed from whiplash and the force of the Gs he’d endured during the dogfight, and his nerves were jittery after the constant emotional upheavals of the past days. Without battlefield adrenaline, he was crashing hard.
But his body and racing mind wasn’t the source of his continued wakefulness, either. That cause was far more pleasant. The final twist that threatened to sooth him into emotional complacency and something very close to a word he didn’t dare think about (love).
Warm fingertips trailed down his stomach, disturbing the sheen of sweat that gathered there. Maverick’s shower after the Layton rescue hadn’t been enough to really cleanse him. Days of grief and fear seemed to be leaking out of his pores. The muscles of his stomach bunched and trembled under the firm touch. Ablution came in the form of the plush lips that pressed against his shoulder and the leaking from his eyes that he called sweat but were really tears.
He laid himself out, his full length stretched along the narrow rack, vulnerable naked skin on display and asking for absolution. He had nothing left to give and nothing he could hide in this secret place. There were no more mental barriers, no more excuses or standards of decorum. In this small place tucked away from prying eyes, he was reduced to his truest self, the scared animal that covered its flaws with bared teeth and feigned fearlessness.
“Maverick?”
The voice that said his name fell from those blessed lips. He shook his head, flinching as those roving fingertips rose to cup his jaw and turned him back to face reality and his companion in the tiny bed.
Ice was a thousand yards of hot, golden skin, such a contrast to the name they gave him. Call signs were just one more mask that they hid behind. Just days before, Maverick thought he hated him. And, in some ways, he did. He hated how Ice held up a mirror to his faults and called him out on the dangerous things he did. He hated that Ice was right so often, and that he was so pompous about it, confidant in his rightness. He hated that he was such a fantastic aviator even while playing by the rules.
But Maverick now knew that Ice’s criticism came first from a place of care and now from a place that might be real affection. Now he knew how the musk of Ice’s cock tasted and how it felt to be wrapped in those long arms. He felt safe for the first time in ages when Ice was in control – in the air or on the ground. Ice was more than Maverick’s wingman – he was the lodestone foundation upon which he could build the rest of his life.
Ice kissed his forehead. The touch was tender and sweet and made Maverick’s mouth quiver. He was so sweet now, but scant minutes before he’d made Maverick come harder than he’d ever come in his life, whispering deadly promises in his ear as one hand worked his cock and the other skillfully massaged a place inside him that he hadn’t even known existed.
But Ice wouldn’t let him turn away. There was no more hiding, not between them. Maverick’s breath stuttered as he failed to keep himself in control. For so long he’d tied down any deep emotion so far within himself that he could pretend it no longer existed. All his hurts, all his fears, the shattered trust that broke when his mother chose her own pain over her young son’s needs, the source of his desperate need to prove his worth, all of it was open and raw.
“Let go, Mav. I’ve got you.”
Finally, the tears fell in earnest. Mav fell apart as Ice held him impossibly close. Their damp skin stuck together in ways that should be deeply uncomfortable, but Maverick relished the connection anyway. He wanted to burrow inside Ice’s ribcage and make a home for himself, somewhere safe. He was distantly embarrassed by this blatant display of weakness, but he was too tired to fight anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “God, Ice, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. I promise, Mav: it’s going to be alright.”
Ice sounded so sure. But Maverick could hear the waver in his voice and felt the shiver in his skin. They were both so fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge and ready to fall. They held each other together tightly anyway, neither willing to sacrifice their closeness.
“Why am I such a fuckup?” Maverick asked an interminable time later. Then smaller, to stop Ice from speaking when he felt him take a quick breath: “I miss him so much.”
“You are not a fuckup,” Ice cut in firmly before Maverick could continue his self-flagellation. “What happened was an accident. You’re cocky and push everyone’s boundaries, sure, but you are an excellent aviator and a good person.”
Maverick wasn’t so sure, but didn’t have the energy to argue. “I should have been better.”
“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” Ice countered. “It was my jetwash you flew through. If I had kept my temper and taken the risk to take the shot, the accident wouldn’t have happened.”
Maverick frowned. He hadn’t considered that angle. But - “I was goading you into a reaction. That means I’m responsible for your anger and Goose’s death.”
“No,” Ice hissed emphatically. He cradled Maverick’s face into the meat of his upper arm, surrounding him with the surety of his strength. “Sometimes things just happen. Even if, and that’s IF, you were responsible, the canopy didn’t clear properly. You might be culpable for the accident but not for Goose’s death.”
Maverick’s throat clicked as he swallowed hard. His face was a ruddy mess of tears and mucus. He wanted to hide away from the pain by staying safe in Ice’s arms forever. The shaking just wouldn’t end. He was alternatively hot and cold, ready to push Ice away so he could breathe without his weight atop him and at the same time craving the way Ice’s presence kept him from feeling out of control of his body.
Three sharp raps sounded on the bulkhead behind Ice’s body. Their time was nearly up. Slider had covered their absence from the others for as long as possible, but it was time to return to the world. Maverick clung obstinately to Ice’s middle and forced one last rattling breath into his aching lungs. Ice nuzzled deeply into Maverick’s neck to steel himself. Finally, he pulled back and held Maverick’s face in both hands and he kissed him deeply, full of promise.
They dressed quickly and Ice fixed his hair in the tiny mirror in his kit. Raw and shocky still, Maverick moved without thinking. His mind was totally blank at last. Ice caught his hand as he moved to leave the compartment. One firm squeeze and Maverick’s heart could beat again. One loaded look and he knew that he wasn’t alone. They nodded to each other, not needing words to understand the words they couldn’t say. Ice’s worried expression cleared, but concern still lurked behind his eyes. Maverick ran his thumb over Ice’s palm to soak up the feel of his skin one last time before he headed out the door to face reality.
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icantpickafictionalman · 8 months ago
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New flesh
Adam x Fem!Reader
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A/n : you remember that scene in stranger things season 3 where El gets a piece of the mind flayer stuck in her leg, and she uses her powers to get it out? Yeah, it's that (kinda)
Context : Reader is a different kind of seraphim, one capable of chaos beyond anything imaginable. She could bring universes to downfall, and despite her mighty power being forbidden to use, decided so by Sera, the head seraphim, there come times when it is the only answer. Although readers powers span as far as collapsing worlds, a given is her talents when it comes to telekinesis. During the battle in ep8, we see reader draw the final straw, and give into her powers.
Tags: heavy gore, Angst, knifes, descriptive injuries and pain
(PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE)
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"Wait!" Adam screamed, as he watched his lover, who had come to help in the battle, descend into her truest form. (Name), one of the angelic seraphim, was powerful. So powerful, that she would hurt herself in the process of using her powers.
When she had fully reached her chaotic form, a bright light blinded almost everyone watching. All of hell experienced momentary sunrise, and even heaven saw a bright, white flash.
The battle was done. Everyone had been stopped, however, as (name) fell to the floor, Adam rushed to her side. Soon, everyone gathered to watch.
"What- what the fuck were you thinking?!What have you done?!" Adam screamed in between fast and short breaths, just now noticing the huge gash of flesh ripped out of (Name)'s knee.
"I'm- I'm fine! Fuck- Aeugh!" She cried out, pain soaking through her skin and forming itself into words. "Where does it hurt?!" He yelled, trying his best to put an end to his beloved's anguish. "Everywhere! Fucking- Adam it's in me!" She screamed, throwing her head back so that she didn't have to look at the golden blood pouring out of her leg any longer. "What? What the fuck do you mean 'it's' fucking in you! What is!?" Experiencing pain beyond imagine, all (name) could muck up the strength to do was point to her leg. When Adam looked, he saw a lump, moving around under (name)'s skin, making its way from the bottom of the wound, to further up her leg. "Fucking Christ! What the-! I need, I need something to get it out of her!" Nearby, Adam watched as Nifty pulled out a knife and offered it to Adam. "Fuck, yeah okay!" Turning back to (name), he held her hand. "Look, this is only gonna hurt for-" but he was cut off by (name)'s excruciating cries. "Get it out! Get it out of me!" Wincing, Adam held the knife at an angle, and began slidinb the knife down from the top of her leg to the opening of the gash, trying to push the creature out, but it just wouldn't work. "I'm gonna have to cut your leg, you'll be okay, just.. oh fuck!" Adam tried his best not to hurt her, but piercing her with a knife and slowly making the hole bigger was no use. "Fuck, fuck just- just let me- Agh! Let me do it!" Adam threw the knife to the side, not wanting to cause her any more pain. Slowly, (name) raised her hands above the wound, and started to focus, until, the creature could be seen being dragged slowly but surely back down to the wound. As (name) continued to wail, everyone around her was silent. But more specifically, Adam was silent. He was shocked. Scared. Confused. Suddenly, as (name) gave one last blood-curdling scream, the creature was released from her leg, and immediately Adam pounced at it with the knife. He couldn't even say anything. Just grunt, as he tortured and pulverised the creature who had caused his love such suffering. (Name) was silent too, partly recovering, partly stunned. She had never seen Adam so... violent.
As the two left, Adam carried (name) through the portal back to heaven, and made sure to find her immediate medical attention.
"I don't know how you done it." He whispered, sitting next to her hospital bed where she lay, drifting in and out of sleep.
"Done what?"
"Yanked that thing out of you like it was nothing. I struggled to get it out of you myself. Must've hurt like hell."
"It's better now."
"You sure?"
"Promise."
"I love you."
"I love you too Adam."
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rustytrident · 2 years ago
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hey, you! yes, you! listen up. since the demon bros (minus satan) were angels, does that mean that their true demon form is different than other demons' true demon forms?
because hear me out. we have never seen any of their truest forms – or, the non humanoid to some extent, demon forms – so it could be anything, right? and while i adore the idea that they look like their familiars when completely turned, i can't help but think that maybe they look a bit more,,, angelic? in a sense?
according to the bible (and the very much needed "fear not" from every angel ever), true angel forms are terrifying. absolutely monstrous in a sense, they make humans still in their spots, run, look away. they make you want to not look, because looks don't matter. it's the message they bear that is of importance (and whatever the fuck else they represent, i never cared enough to look into the old testament).
demons, on the other hand – they're supposed to be the exact opposite, right? true demon form must, by its association to true angelic form and the relationship of angels and demons as a whole, make you want to look at the being in front of you with everything you have left in you. i mean, it's canon that demons practice seductive speech and aren't against seducing humans into pretty much anything, so demon forms must be analogous to the needs and practices of a demon, right? so, they make you want to look, no matter how monstrous they are, right?
kinda like a moth to the flame. right?
the brothers, however, already had a true form – they had their angelic form as former angels and residents of the celestial realm! then, when they fell, did it go away? or did it merge with their true demon form they acquired upon their fall?
i say it's the latter. and not because of anything else other than the fact that this is my internal world of fictional demon men and i will imagine it as i please, but for the sake of proving my point, i will now (hopefully) convince you that I'm right!
let's take lucifer for exaple:
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creds for the images to the obey me wiki
starting from his head, we can see that his halo has been replaced by horns; expected, boring, cliche – NEXT! his collar is the same, turtleneck with some extravagant outer jacket (cape??) collar around it. now that's what I'm talking about! his shoulders are accessorised by golden feathers in both forms, and his wings are the same, just smaller (and i think it's clarified why somewhere in the game but i won't say anything just in case i made that up too). he has something gold and loosely hanging on his right hip in both pictures while his jacket (cape??) remains long and flowy.
and you'll probably say "well, user rustytrident, that's just one brother off the bunch. you haven't proven shit" and i will reply "I'm too lazy to go into every brother, but I'll delve into asmo just for you" and send you a flying kiss.
why asmo, you may ask? well, because asmo is the avatar of lust. if anything, his form would be the most different one appearance wise, since the beauty standards must be very different between realms; on the one up above, you need to wear more. show your part in the kingdom of the skies, the reign of god, united with your brothers and sisters in every way. on the one down below, you're nothing but damned. you need to show your individual colours, what exactly you are because that shows your heritage and position, and that saves your ass from death, on most occasions.
so here is asmo:
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creds for the images go, again, to the obey me wiki
he's completely different, right? absolutely changed, his big, full of movement outfit replaced by skin tight clothes with completely different textures and compositions. and if you thought that, you're absolutely right. only, i can't read. so this sign can't stop me.
again, horns and halo blah blah we get it. collar is the same. turtle neck, again, with the cut off shoulders on both outfits. the little gold thing he has wrapping around him in his angel outfit has transformed into a symbol of his familiars – both starting from the right shoulder and going down to his waist. his wrists have accessories on them and he has tried to retain some of the movement in his demon form by mimicking the tail of a scorpion. would it be me reaching if i said that the gold thing around his left leg on the first image (what even IS that) has been replaced by the little belt strap pant leg thing on his right leg in the second pic? probably. but i said it anyway :)).
so where did that lead us? why are we even here? in the rare case that anything i just told you counts as "evidence", it wouldn't prove anything, anyway. you can believe what you want, and i will do the same, and we will continue our lives following the same principles we have been following for years, so why are we both here, right now?
well, dear friend, wise people often say it is not the destination that matters, but the journey and the friendships you form during it. you listened to me ramble about demon men in a video game, and i, in return, kept you company on your lonesome travels. i think that's the start of a wonderful friendship, don't you think?
as my gift to you before i leave, i will, if you allow me to, conclude my thoughts. true demon form, in the brothers' case, must bear some sort of similarity to their true angel form. i don't believe it's some sexier, leather-ier, skin tight-ier version of true angel, but rather the combination of what was and what would be. if they were humans that got turned into demons then yes, this theory wouldn't work out, but the pure psychedelia their true angel form carries with it is enough to stain their true demon form's allure.
so, when the demon bros get angry, upset, when they release themselves from the chains of the homo sapien and allow the form of the pure power that flows inside them to take over – would anyone be able to handle it? unless you, yourself, are extremely powerful, chances are that no, you wouldn't be able to.
and it's not because they would strike you down, thus ending your existence once and for all that you would die, oh no. it's because your being, no matter your nature or the realm you come from, wouldn't be able to handle the sight before you. two voices will be screaming inside you: one asking to run back and the other to run forward – until you're perfectly still, unmoving, simply looking at the creature standing in front of you. it's their pure nature that would end you, just their existence and nothing else. the voices in your head will only stop when your heart gives out, and, trust me, it would do so very soon.
the only one who doesn't have that element about him is satan. isn't it ironic, how the avatar of the most violent sin's true demon form looks like nothing short of the safest haven you've seen (compared to his brothers, always)? it's no coincidence that his familiars are unicorns. ever wondered why?
huuu, that was a lot, huh? you doing alright? I'm done talking, so you can continue your journey, don't you worry. if you have any questions or want to come back and convince me otherwise, i would love to have you again. till then, i will await for another visit of yours, with a cup of tea. what do you say?
be careful on your travels, and good luck.
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felixcloud6288 · 1 year ago
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Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 79
That was anticlimactic.
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The Drachma general getting suddenly blown up while yelling is kinda funny but also a good counterexample to Kimblee's philosophy about survival meaning you're chosen by fate. Just because you're alive doesn't mean there's a purpose, it just means you got lucky, and no matter what happens, you can just die an unceremonious death.
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First time I ever read this chapter, Zanpano had me fooled. I totally fell for his "third-rate" acting. I had thought he betrayed the group but he was actually setting up for Heist 4.5.
I'm gonna guess Al is hanging back with May due to a mixture of her demonstrating the Purification Arts and Marcoh not wanting to potentially reveal the Elrics' involvement with Heist 4.
The transmutation circle on Marcoh's hand is pretty much the same as the transmutation circle for a Philosopher's Stone, so I guess the ability to destroy them is just his internal knowledge about how to manipulate the Stone rather than any special characteristic about the transmutation circle.
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Envy's defeat hammers in how we're nearing the end of the series. Envy first appeared in Chapter 6 and has been this constant background threat alongside Lust and Gluttony. Then during Central City, Lust died and Gluttony was defeated. Envy remained a threat.
In current events, Wrath and Pride have been the more looming threats while Kimblee is the more immediate antagonist. The last time we saw Envy was in chapter 63. And now Envy, who's been a threat since the earliest parts of the series, has been defeated.
And Envy's truest true form is so pathetic. The creature that started the Ishbal War, that killed Maes Hughes, that nearly killed Ed and Lin, that has caused great suffering for its own amusement is a little slug creature.
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Envy is a SMALL creature in the figurative and literal sense. Greed could effotlessly get under its skin by just calling Envy ugly. And Envy was always quick to get angry whenever someone outsmarted or outplayed it.
Without a stone, Envy is weak and helpless and no amount of power could take away the fact that this is its true form.
back
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thatcheeseycandle · 8 months ago
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//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 31 OF IN PURSUIT OF SELF
DING DING DING IVE REBLOGGED THE CHAPTER ITS TIME FOR THE REACTION TO IPOS CHP 31 WOOOOOOOOO
AGHGHSHDHFBFHSB THE TITLE CARD, AS ALWAYS, GOT ME HYPEDDDD AUDISJHA HD JSHANCBANDNDN
Wiat HWTA WHAT WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED?????
Ay AYYYYYY GREEN ARROW HERE AS EMPTIPNAL SUPPORT BEHAKAHDHD
AweewjahddvAJWSHAHDBDB FOUND FAMILY MOMENT NUMBER ONE
Oh no OH GOSH TORNADO- BEHAHAHAHHAHDJAHDHAHAH NGL WHEN I FIRST HEARD OF IT TOO I HAD THE SAME FEELING HEHAHAHDBNA
Okay boiler sludge is a fair name for it actually HEHAJHDNNNFNF
Oh OH TRUST ME TORNADO THEY REALLY ARE-
Arrow ARROW JUSKO- THE CATS ARE FIGHTING AGAIN THEY REALLY ARE-
Ay AY AN ARGUEMENT???? OKAY IM KINDA RECALLING ON WHAT IT COULD BE- WAIT PARDON????? OKAY THATS GOOD ARROWS TRYNA YKNOW BE GOOD
helahdDGHELAUSGD I NEEDED A FEW SECONDS TO PROCESS WHAT SHE JUST SAID IM SORRY BEHAHABDHD
I JUST GOT A QUICK FLASHBACK TO WHAT TAW VALLEY SAID ABOUT EVERYONE FLIRTING WITH SCOT WHEN I REAF THAT AND I DIDNT THINK IT WOULD BE TRUE NGL
Oh to be not famous and oh to just live peacefully- (insert very loud opera music)
Yes YES FIESTY TORNADO BEHAHF
AHEHAHDBD YES TORNADO ONE OF THE TRUEST WORDS YOUVE EVER SAID THEY ARE A CUTE COUPLE
Im sorry TAW VALLEY SAID WHAT NOW???? OHHHH BOYYY IM ALL EARS I REALLY AM IM ALL EARS ALL EYES AND EARS
Ohhh OHHHSHSHDHDKDBD TORNADO YKNOW ITS TIME SHE LEARNT ABOUT THE LOVE TRIANGLE THOSE TWO HAD BEHAJAHHDHS
Im very VERY EXCUTED THIS BIT NOW GOT ME EXCITED FOR THE NEW BLOG HEKAHFKD OOOHH THE TENSION
Ay AY AY WHAT WHATAFAQ TRURO???
Wait WINSTON KNEW?? HE KNEW ABOUT NORTH WHATAGBSADAKAKA HOW WHEN HUH
Oi OI WAIT AYYYY GOLD AND DP1 LETS GOAOAYDJFB THEYRE HERE
Yeah YEAHH THE COOL KIDS BEJAJDH
Ph wait.. OHW AHATA WAIT WIAY IS TRURO GONNA TURN HUMAN??? IS HE???
Wait WINSTON ITS STARTING TO STACK IP HES GONNA TRUROS GONNA DO IT
Truro TRURO YOU LITTLE YOU DO LOOK GOOD FOR GODS SAKE
Oh OH? WELL.. YEAH I MEAN NGL TRURO HAS A POINT NOW CONSIDERING THAT- BUT STILL HES RIGHT YEAHHH
Yeah YEHJAFJJAHAHSBC
Lady WHATSG OH EHS GONNA GO HES GONNA TODAYS THE DAY HES GONNA DO IT
WOAH WOAGDHQOWAOAGD AYAYAYAY AY AY AY
Oh Gold COME ON- THEYRE MORE THAN RELIABLE THEYRE COOL AND LOTS MORE WORDS I DONT REMEMBER BUT I KNOW FIT THEM
Ayy AYYY YEAHHAHAGD
Wait WIAT KING EDWARD II KING WDMEJSH YEAH SHAKR HER OFF DO IT DO ITYOU CAN DO IT YOU CNA DODO TUTJTKTTTT
King ed wjandd KING ENEEWARDD AHSHGKGJJA NAOOOOOO
Wait wait WAIR SIRNGEL??! 1??1?11!5????? WHATDTH
God HE HAS TO REST SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK-
As soon as I read King George's dialogue I STOOD UP FORM MY BEAD WYAYYEHAHAHSHDHHAHAHAHAHA FINALALAAAYSYYYYYY SHES DEAD SHES GONE SHES GONNA DIE FINALALALDTHAJ 1ST HNWNSNDBD
Ohhh OIHHOHOHOJJ GETETEVHER TSTNANEIRJT YEAHHH LET SGOGOOOOO SHES FINALLYYYYYYY SHES FINALLY DONE FOR LETS GOGOOOOO
Guess shes GOING BACK TO HISTORY CLASS HEJAHFMEKDNFB SHES FINALLY GONNA BR DONE FOR FIMALFYAHBD AFTER SO LONG SHES FINALLYYYY DONE
YOU LTIYKTLEE YOU LITTLESHE IS NOT THAT IF SHE WERENT THERE THE PLACE WOULD PROBABLY BE A MESS
Yes YES EYSGSGDYE GO STANIER HO GOGOGOGOGOGOGOOOO
OHGOHIHOGODOGOHOHON CAINE WAS HER SON????????? NOW PEOPLE THAT IS HOW YOU CONNECG PEOPLE TOGETGER IN WRITING OHGMSUODJSHFBFB I DIDNT WHAT OKAY I DIDNT EXPECT THUS GOGYSMFUUSUFKCJV
ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE????????? GWARATAHSGAGSRA
YOU LTITKLEE MS PARSOSN WHWY WODYSLS DYOSUDBDOTVRHAISI WHY OWUDLD YOU DO THIS TO US WHY WHAYHSHAAAAAAAA
SHE DIDNT HAVE TO DO IT
I had to pause form typing CAUSE MU GODOSHDB I COUDLTJNS LOSE KING EDWARD II ISTG ATLEAST KING GEORGE
MY HEART IS NOT OKAY.
Oughfjfhgv OUGUFJSHF GOD THIS BIT HURT ME THE MOST AGAGSHAHAGGAHAHAA
Oh OH TRURO IS THERE TRUROS THERE YUP WERE ONTO TRURO'S POV NOW
Somebody IMSOEEBOSDY COVER HIS EYES HE CANT SEE HIS FIANCE LIKE THSI HE CANT NOT NOW AAAAAAA
Mallard MALLARD YOU LITTLE AAAAAAVSHRJWHAGDHF NO YOU DO NOT CALL TRURO THAT MY GOSH
I needed a moment of silence to process what just happened.. WHATA WHAT. IM VERY CONCERNED FOR TRURO AND GADWALL- BUT HEY ATLEAST GADWALL CAN TALK NA CAUSE YKNOW ITS GONNA COME IN HANDY
Oh OHHHH WE GOING TO PENDENNIS HERE WE GO
I almost REHFELL GOFF MY BREBD IS THAT HIS TRUE NAME?????? NO WAY HE JUST USED HIS TRUE NAME OGHAMFUSYAJDB
"But it is hard to convince myself of my worth." HERE COMES THE TEARS THEYRE FLOWING
Im aorry CLUNC ASYLE DID WHTACA NOW? SHE HAS THE NERVE TO SAY THAT CAUSE ITS RICH THAT A FACT SHE'S TECNICALLY TOGETHER WITH UNION
BEHEJABDBSHS POOR PENDENNIS HES JUST CONFUSED ON HOW TRURO DID THAT HEHAHAHDBHWBDHDNDMSA
AQERJAUEYEHDB AWESHSB ITS OLD ART OF TRURO AND SCOT AT THE ENSNWHAJDHSNFB
And hey I FINISHED IT BEFORE DINNER HRJAHDNDHF WELL DONT I FEEL FULL ENOUGH TO NOT EAT EHAJDBD (full of tears HEKSFBS)
WOOO OKAY THAT WAS ANOTHER EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER EXCEPT THE MAIN EMOTION WAS SHOCK SO YEAH ANOTHER WELL-DELIVERED PLOT THAT HAD EACH BIT OF IT SMOOTHLY YET SHARPLY DELIVERED
Conclusion: A VERY WELL WRITTEN FANFIC BY REDWYVERNWRITES
(Im very VERY hyped for next chapter BEJAHDJDGC)
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yellowistheraddest · 2 years ago
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sending you my hcs that are varying degrees of quality but. eh. it's my media perception so i have no shame in them
1. obviously asd/autistic miles because that is the truest thing ever? i don't think it's something he discovers as an adult, more like he got diagnosed before dl-6
2. maya to me is a girl that wears leg hair with pride. i'm sorry i can't imagine her in any other way and i picture her chubbier than capcom made her just bc she deserves that powerful look
3. miles edgeworth is a quiet rebel to me. this hc started when i saw a post about how putting your hands in trousers pockets isn't proper etiquette and miles does it anyway so... i just think he does these small things to feel mischievous and like his own person, maybe he did them more in his youth. and i also think the steel samurai and watching it also feels like rebellion to him and gives him a certain thrill? idk if this makes sense honestly
4. i think i made fanart of this one before but i basically hc that the short animations we see before a case (esp the ones in aa1 revealing the culprit) are phoenix's dreams that he barely remembers but they guide him like an intuitive sense. because yk how in aa2 the animation we see is an actual nightmare of his... and he definitely has some spiritual ties there somewhere.. and in aa4 he deadass predicts the future ominously to apollo sometimes... and he goes through spirit medium training with maya bc she makes him.....it makes sense
5. pearly's aged-up design is way different in my eyes. like i'm sorry but she should rebel so much after the ways she was raised, let her have the most unfortunate haircut in the world and funky makeup and cool clothes
6. yeah that's it im not going to embarrass myself further 👍
damn, let me get my reading glasses (i don't have reading glasses)
1. miles is the final form in the evolution line of the autism creature, so agreed. although i think gregory is not around enough/too old fashion to notice it, and von karma is a dick and would purposefully avoid getting him diagnosed; i think he got diagnosed after moving out. overall a strong 9.5 out of 10
2. i can definitely see her with body hair, but idk about the body fat because she has to stand under waterfalls for days so the training probably requires a restrain from food (kinda how monks fast) but im not in opposition of her being chubbier. 7 out of 10, capcom give us more details about the training plsss
3. lets just say ive been planning to draw something related to this idea... so 10 out of 10, hes shy and unsure about it but hes still a rebel at heart.
4. i think he just smokes weed when he reads case files and we just get to trip with him (yes this chronologically doesn't make sense but idc). Brother is the plainest cringefail guy - hes the last person anyone should give magic powers to, theres like 7 billion people who'd be better off with them. this one is a 6 put of 10, im not big into magical powers.
5. i hate pearl. well more like i hate children and pearl is a child, but they failed with her so bad the design... 9 out of 10.
pearl, send me a dm and well go clothes shopping and get you a haircut so it actually looks like youve actually been affected by 7 years of no longer dealing with your bitch of a mom
6. 0 out of 10, be shameless its the internet noone knows who you are. just don't be a weirdo!
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marshmallowprotection · 2 years ago
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Crisis by Joshua Basset kinda seems like V to Rika in his route to be honest-Just wanted to say that! I hope I’m not intruding or anything. It’s just nice to see a active Mysmes fan who loves Saeran.
But don't you dare act like I didn't love you Don't go thinkin' that I didn't hurt too Don't you ever wonder if I'm okay after all you put me through? Half the shit you're saying's only half-true You're messin' with my life as a career move I can't help but wonder, why you won't make it end? Guess you would never dare You would never dare to waste a crisis
Well, V is able to admit that his affection for her was never love in its truest form. It was an obsession. It was an obsession from both sides, actually. They were caught up in an idealized form of the other and it did nothing but destroy them. That's hard to watch... but the ultimate confrontation in V route is poetic in many ways. They needed that to get out of the bubble of despair.
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dykeyote · 2 years ago
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what if for the character thing i said elijah volkov for the funnies (PLEASE DON'T BLOW ME UP PLEASE DON'T BLOW ME UP PL)
i wont blow u up with my mind ..... TODAY ....... but i will do this bc i actually do have lots of thoughts on him hehe >:) many of those are just filled with hate
fav thing about him: oh hes an AMAZING villain hes so well written . he really gets under my skin like people talk about how his pet names are hot but i just could never relate to that because his pet names are so saccharine sweet it makes me shiver its like . his obsessive yet adoring affection is written in such a perfect way that makes you simultaneously get lovebombed by his kindness alongside sydney while Also feeling so creeped out and uncomfortable and i think thats Brilliant writing
least favorite thing about him: that hes a stupid idiot motherfucker dumbass stupid idiot who i hate and whos stupid and awufl and gross and disgusting and i literally hate him so much that listening to the clock of meantime when he started talking i got so angry i started violently shaking and had to stop listening to the episode . i want to kill him . serious answer is obviously that hes a predator but thats obvious so more specifically the fact that he kissed sydneys stuffed animal creeps me otu SO bad every time thinking about it makes me gen sick . idk why it just freaks me out so bad
favorite line: "Don’t you think you deserve better than what he gives you? Don’t you deserve his utmost appreciation? Devotion? Love?...He should worship you!...Worship is everywhere, dear. It’s the deepest, truest form of love. It’s the kind of love that gives a lover purpose. Life worships you!" i just think its such a brilliantly written subtle example of manipulation and lovebombing and drawing sydney away from jedidiah . like it starts with the Genuine point that sydney deserves better and deserves more love than hes getting from jeddie and then transitions to warming sydney up to the idea of being Worshipped and then after doing so transitions to the idea of worshipping being the Only true real good love (with the implication being that elijah is the one who can Provide that love and jedidiah cannot) . it just really stood out to me when i listened to that ep i thought it was so well done and such a subtle form of manipulation
fav friendship: i hope he never has any friends ever for the rest of his days
fav relationship: if we're saying "what i think the best possible option is" elijadam is inoffensive to me . i hate elijah too much and i dont really think he deserves a relationship at all but like idk i understand the appeal i get why people like it i wont side eye u for liking elijadam the way i would for like . any other elijah ship lmao . if we're talking "ships i actually Like instead of just thinking theyre fine" then elijah x getting his head chopped off
least fav relationship: i hope everyone who ships him w sydney dies and goes to hell no matter what /ref
random headcanon: i headcanon that hes a loser idiot- omg wait thats canon
unpopular opinion: trying to think of a niche unpopular opiniont hats not just "i think ur kinda weird if u constantly post about how sexy he is" . hmmmm. i feel the same way about willy stampler actually but it applies to elijah also i think a lot of people just refer to him as "manipulative" instead of "predatory" to soften what he did a bit and i find it odd
song i associate w him: aphrodite your electric sexiness
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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago
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#starry... blease if you have new idea gib to us ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE more incomprehensible rambles
so i am still currently thinking about Daniel Fenton and Danyal. It's nothing concrete or linear. But, Daniel Fenton is perhaps as close to the truest form of Danyal there is: his wit, his sass, his puns and passion. his love of animals and his wanderlust. (he also does genuinely enjoy rock/punk/alt music). But much of him is till a lie. Enough so that Danny (Dany?) himself is not convinced himself that that is what he genuinely likes.
I like the thought that Danny is a little bit more petty and vicious than in canon, kinda like Damian is, but tones it back for Sam and Tucker's sake. He and Damian both have very extreme personalities. But while Damian's was encouraged, Danny forced himself to hold back because it would interfere with his work as a spy.
And while yes, being in the league sucked, my favorite headcanon is that Danny was really good at knife work and it was one of the few things he genuinely enjoyed while training. he loves collecting knives and learning about them, and its something he's got sequestered so close to his heart that he forgets all about it until he passes by some hunting shop with their knives on display and he stares and stares longingly until he's out of sight of the display. He's stolen Skulker's hunting knives and machetes multiple times and keeps them under his bed. When he has the time he takes them out and practices with them. He wants to incorporate them into "Phantom" but knife-loving is not what Daniel Fenton is. So he keeps it closely guarded to his chest.
And I also think that Sam and Tucker are not privy to Danny's past as an assassin. First it was because they were outsiders to the league and not deserving of the information. He wouldn't jeopardize the secrecy of the league for two children. Then, later on, it was for their own protection.
The league is no joke and Sam and Tucker are untrained teenagers. Even if Danny trained them, they would still be vastly unprepared and underqualified to go toe-to-toe with even the weakest league member -- i.e. Danny himself in all his rustiness. Danny does most of the fighting when it comes to ghosts, so they don't have experience even from that. And even then: fighting the dead is not the same as fighting the living.
Danny was always aware that there was a sliver of a chance that the league would come retrieve him. He would not put the deaths of Sam and Tucker on his conscious just because he thought it was safe to tell them about a centuries old secret. No. The league of shadows would remain what it was; a shadow. And despite what Sam and Tucker believe: Danyal is a fantastic liar.
i think rather than moving in with the Waynes outright permanently, Jack and Maddie instead agree to let the Waynes have him over for the summer. (i like the idea that the Fentons have no idea that Danny is an assassin or a spy, but i have no idea how that would work logically so i'm not addressing it.)
they'll figure out custody agreements after that.
I don't have much to say on the stay in Wayne manor other than Danny's his cold, reserved, and closed-off unusual-usual self. He's wary and distrustful of the Waynes and he's trying to figure out himself and who he is when he's not playing pretend.
The Waynes encourage him to be Danyal. Just Danyal. Not Daniel. Not Danyal Al Ghul. Just Danyal. Just Dany.
Danny doesn't know who that is. He's left bewildered and... well. a little scared. for what he isn't sure.
he also has issues with Damian. lots of unaddressed resentment and fear there. a distance between the spare and the heir that Damian is desperately trying to close and fix. Danny is too afraid of being burned to fully trust it.
but eventually i do think he notices Damian's efforts, and recognizes them as genuine attempts to reach out and connect with him and to fix the past. Danny doesn't understand why and he's baffled by Damian's behavior -- time really does change people, huh -- but he does see it. And, very tentatively, he reaches out as well
(Damian is ecstatic and dizzyingly hopeful)
how does he reach out? well. my immediate thought was letters. Danny's been sending report after report to the league monthly/bi-weekly for the last half-decade at least. Speaking out loud is hard and its even harder when its to someone meant to be your superior. Writing is much easier when he doesn't have to look Damian in the face and fall back on old habits.
So he sits down and writes a letter to Damian. It addresses a lot of things he wants left unsaid. He uses his best league handwriting and writes in arabic like he does in all his reports. he signs it formally with Danyal al Ghul at the bottom in neat calligraphy. He seals it in an envelope and slides it under Damian's door.
He gets a response the next day. A letter too. And suddenly they have a system. a letter per day to each other. and bit by bit danny slowly takes his walls down, brick by brick. it doesn't solve his identity issues in the slightest. he still doesn't know who he is. but its mending his relationship with the only twin he's got.
he gradually begins sitting closer to him during mealtimes. Damian silently glows with pride. Danny still struggles to speak to him informally though. He can't bring himself to speak to Damian without being spoken to first. The letters seem to help, but its not enough.
Danny grows frustrated. There's still so much resentment left over that not even pen and ink can fix, and his tongue turns itself to lead whenever he thinks about bringing it up.
He doesn't want to resent Damian, he realizes one day, halfway through the summer. He doesn't. he wants to be close to him. he wants to be friends. he wants to be brothers.
so he does what any good ghost does when they won't -- or can't -- use their words.
one day during the afternoon, his frustration boils over. he approaches Damian -- marches up to him, really -- with a fixed jaw and knuckles so tight they've turned white. Damian is with some of their brothers, and the room quiets at his approach. Tense. Everyone knows he's angry.
"we need to fight." Danny says through gritted teeth, frustration clogged in his throat like fire waiting to be spit out.
the room stares.
Damian frowns. "What?"
"I resent you." Danny says instead of repeating, and Damian flinches like he's been struck. He looks like he swallowed a rock. Danny won't stand for it. "And it is a problem. I do not want to resent you, so we will fight."
"I do not need to win." Danny clarifies when the room shifts uncomfortably and Damian looks apprehensive. "We just need to fight."
Damian still looks unsure. Its a strange look on someone who Danny used to know as so confident. But he will not back down from this. He rolls back his shoulders and stares his brother down in the eye. "Damian," he says, and Damian's eyes widen like saucers. "please."
Danny is cheating. They both know it. It's the first time Danny has willingly called him by his name. He sees Damian's resolve crumble like sand, and he stands.
"Fine. But there will be rules in place to prevent each other from significant harm."
Danny grins and the room startles simultaneously. It is a wild, delighted thing that shows too much teeth, like a cheshire cat that is much too sharp. It's his first proper smile. "Acceptable."
The rules are as followed: No Maiming No Killing The fight ends when someone yields or if they're too exhausted/injured to get up You may draw blood, but no serious laceratios
Danny is buzzing and thrumming under his skin the entire walk to the gym, his new brothers following him and Damian. He can feel his core pulsating with the urge to fight. It takes much of his willpower not to charge the air with electotricity. The hair standing up on end on his arms is proof enough that he's not succeeding.
They stop by their rooms to change into proper fighting attire, and Danny beats Damian to the gym with a pair of daggers he is twisting around in his hands. They're not allowed to start until Bruce gets there, and he arrives remarkably quick for someone who was supposed to be at WE.
The fight starts after the rules are stated, and the Waynes stand off to the side. Danny zeroes in on his brother, and attacks first. Danny's fast. Faster with his liminality, but Damian keeps up. Danny pours all of his resentment, anger, inferiority, his grief into this fight. He works through each one like he's undoing an intricate knot, and it sweeps up into the air and thickens to the point that even the others in all their varying liminality can sense it.
He lands blows on Damian, and Damian returns it in kind. Until finally Danny's worked through everything he's needed to say, and the fight becomes.. lighter somehow. It tastes like forgiveness. It's become playing.
When the fight finishes, they're both exhausted. They're bruised and battered, with cuts along their faces and arms. It doesn't fix everything. It doesn't fix Danny's identity. It doesn't fix the years of expectation and disappointment and the longing. But it does fix one thing.
Danny yields first, and he gives Damian his widest smile, his breath wheezing. "I needed that."
Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.
Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.
They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.
It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.
At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”
Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.
Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.
Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.
They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.
Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.
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pink-sparkly-witch · 2 years ago
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Can't Fight This Feeling, Pt. 3
Summary: A night out for Benny’s birthday turns into something more when an encounter with Y/N’s ex, Rick, has Dean finally finding the courage to tell her how he feels.
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Finally!)
Bingo Square: Quote B
Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of possible cheating, fluff, language, flirting, confrontation, kissing.
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: This is written as a submission for Tell Me A Story Bingo hosted by @supernatural-jackles. The square filled is Quote B which is highlighted in bold. This hasn’t been beta’d. Any mistakes are my own!
You can catch up here!
My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi
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Y/N got out of the cab and walked towards the Roadhouse. It was Benny’s birthday, and he was having a get-together with his friends. When he came into her office last week and told her about the plans for tonight, he specifically mentioned Dean was going to be there. She found that strange for two reasons: first; she didn’t know why he thought she needed to know that, and second; Benny and Dean were best friends, so, of course, he’d be there. 
She’d never told Benny about her huge crush on Dean, but she had a feeling he knew anyway. Dean was just her type. Smart, funny, just on the right side of cocky, and great company. It was always a good night whenever they went out as a group.
Dean was a ladies’ man, though, a one-and-done kinda guy, at least he had been since Lisa. Plus, she knew from being his date at his friend’s wedding last month that he only saw her as a friend. The problem was trying to tell her heart that and get over him.
Y/N had hoped, right up until the end of the wedding, that he’d kiss her. For real, this time. But he was nothing but a gentleman. Thanking her again for being a great friend and saying that his offer of owing her whatever she wanted in return still stood. She’d never cash in on it, though, because what she wanted was him.
It’d been two weeks since then, and things had returned to a relative sense of “normal” for them. Friendly flirting, teasing each other, her bringing him pie from the bakery down the road, him bringing her lunch from the Mexican place she loved across town. Back to being friends. He’d even taken a customer’s number, and she thought she overheard Benny and Dean talking about when he would ask her out. Once again, validating all the reasons she thought he only saw her as a friend.
Swinging the door open, Y/N walked into the bar, her eyes scanning the crowded room. It didn’t take long to see Benny playing pool with Castiel. She smiled to herself and headed over to the bar to order a drink and add money to the tab she knew would be behind there for their group.
“Hey, Y/N! How are ya, sweetie?” Ellen asked.
“I’m good, Ellen. How are you?” Y/N answered the older woman.
“Can’t complain! You here for Benny’s birthday?”
“Yup, you know I can’t miss a night out with that big goofball!” Y/N smiled. “Can you do me a favour and stick this in with the tab? And tell me if it’s getting low, and we’ll top you up,” Y/N handed a fifty over to Ellen, who put it in a tumbler behind the bar.
“Alright, done! Now, what ya drinking?”
“Better start easy with a beer. Can’t have you kick me out before that lot makes asses of themselves like usual!” Y/N and Ellen laughed as she put a bottle on the wooden bar.
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The night was well and truly underway. The pool tournament was in its semi-final round with Benny and Sam currently battling it out and Y/N and Dean playing next. Charlie was currently hitting on a girl at the bar, Meg and Castiel were making out in the corner, and Donna was watching Benny with the biggest heart eyes she’d ever seen. The Deputy Sheriff was the best damn thing that had ever happened to Benny. They were good for each other.
Benny was a good man, a gentleman of the truest form, and many women had taken that for granted in the past. His intentions were pure, and he was too kind and generous for his own good. He was one of those rare guys who’d do anything for those he cared about. She always joked that if she ever needed to hide a body, she knew who she’d call - and he’d show up, no questions asked and, no doubt, with his buddy Dean Winchester right behind him with another shovel. 
Y/N and Dean were sitting quietly, watching the pool game unfold, knowing one of them would be playing whoever won this game. Of course, she was rooting for Benny because she didn’t stand a chance against Sam. At least if she played the Cajun, there was a slim chance that victory and bragging rights could be hers. Then again, she didn’t have a hope in hell’s chance at winning against Dean either. Unless she could distract him by strategically bending over the table, using her feminine assets to her advantage.
“Hey, uh- Listen,” Dean spoke, tearing her from her thoughts. “I just wanted to say thanks again for Garth’s wedding and… you know…” the mechanic rubbed his neck nervously.
“Don’t mention it. I was happy to help. It’s what friends do, right?” Y/N replied a little colder than she meant to and sighed with guilt when his eyes squinted with what looked like hurt.
“I told my mom we broke up. Said we were better as friends,” Dean continued. “So, uh… you’re free from me, I guess,” he chuckled. “You can get back to dating. You know, if you want to?” 
She wasn’t sure why it sounded like a question, but she nodded anyway. “Thanks. You want another?” Y/N gestured to his almost empty beer bottle. She needed to get away from him. She could feel the beginning of tears sting the back of her eyes and needed to get away from this conversation and from him. She thought she’d be fine tonight, but when he brought up that night and being friends, it upset her more than she knew it had a right to.
“Uh, yeah. I think Charlie was supposed to be getting more drinks, but it looks like she’s busy,” he grinned and nodded his head towards the bar where the redheaded mechanic was flirting shamelessly with a brunette woman at the bar. Shaking her head with a murmured “typical, " Y/N headed to the bar to get more drinks.
She ordered the beers first and returned to her friends, placing the bottles on the table. Dean went with her to help carry the whiskey tumblers, and she wanted to scream at him to leave her alone and give her some space, but she couldn’t do it. Not without him asking her what was wrong.
“Wow! Tequila? It’s like that, huh?” Dean raised his eyebrows when he saw the small glasses filled with golden liquid.
“Yep,” Y/N sighed. “Excuse the bad song pun, but tequila makes me happy, and God, do I need to be happy right now!” she scoffed, lifting the salt shaker, licking her hand and sprinkling the white grains on the wet streak left behind. “I was gonna have both of these, but you’re welcome to join me if you like?” she asked Dean, holding the salt shaker out for him to take. She didn’t know what possessed her to ask him when she so desperately wanted away from him, just being polite, she guessed, but the smile on his face meant she couldn’t take it back now.
Not one to turn down a challenge, Dean licked his hand, eyes on hers the whole time. Sprinkling the salt on his hand, Dean picked up the shot glass and held it up, waiting for her to tap it. “Cheers, sweetheart,” he smirked, eyes raking over her body.
Dean had been in love with her for a long time and had always found her incredibly attractive. He loved seeing a different side of her at the wedding, looking stunning and being flirty and touchy-feely with him. And tonight? Well fuck, she looked gorgeous.
Y/N wasn’t the type of girl he usually used for a one-nighter. She was the type of girl he wanted to settle down with. Funny, intelligent, kind, fun, beautiful. What more could a man want? Benny had always encouraged him to make a move whenever she was single. He’d asked again this week when he was going to ask her out, but he wasn’t what she needed in her life. She’d been screwed over far too many times by far too many guys for him to fuck things up even more for her. She deserved the fucking world, and he knew he couldn’t give her that.
Dean always screwed up in relationships, always putting his needs first and not thinking much about anyone but himself and his family. At least that’s one of the things Lisa told him when she ended things all those months ago. Dean thought he was a good boyfriend. He always made time for her and them as a couple. He also made time to be the role model and father figure her son had desperately needed.
He’d tried so hard to keep the spark they’d felt at the beginning alive, but she didn’t offer the same. He often found that it was her who didn’t make the time for him. She cancelled plans with him in favour of going out with her friends or colleagues. Sometimes staying out very late, occasionally all night. Dean didn’t like to dwell on that for too long. He knew there was a good chance she’d cheated on him. It was obvious to everyone, and she wasn’t subtle about it, but that was enough for him. He didn’t need to hear the words and make it real. Keeping his mouth shut saved his heart and pride, so he never called her out on it. 
“Cheers!” Y/N grinned and tapped her glass against his, bringing him back to the present. Licking the salt from her hand, she made sure her eyes never left his as the tequila slid down her throat and when she sucked seductively on the lime wedge. Dean almost groaned when her perfect, pink little tongue peeked out to catch the drip of juice that escaped from the corner of her lips. He held her gaze the entire time and followed her actions, slamming the shot glass back on the bar just in time for her to hold two fingers up at Jo, ordering another round of shots.
Tonight, just got a whole lot more interesting! Dean thought.
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“No, that’s… it didn’t happen like that at all!” Y/N tried to defend. She lost to Dean in the pool tournament. The two tequila shots at the bar had made her too happy, warm, and fuzzy to concentrate on the game. She tried, she really did, but the second Dean took off his flannel and revealed his tanned and freckled muscular arms, broad shoulders, and rippled lines of his back that were straining his white t-shirt, she just about lost the will to live. She’d been turned on since the first time his perfect ass bent over right in front of her to take a shot. Definitely on purpose. “Don’t listen to her, man! She was drunk off her ass and probably wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped her in the face!” Benny laughed. “Hey! What is this? Pick on Y/N night? It might be your birthday, and I might be tequila happy right now, but that doesn’t give you the right to make shit up! If you remember, I’m not the one who woke up in their front yard in their tighty whities after that night!” she said, and the whole table erupted in laughter. “Yeah, yeah!” Benny laughed. “Remind me - where did you wake up?” he smirked. Oh, she could’ve killed him for bringing that up. “Go on, Cher, share with the group where you were when you woke up after that night. Or, more accurately, with who.” “First of all, there was no sleeping, so I didn’t technically “wake up” anywhere,” Y/N grinned cheekily as the others wolf-whistled. “But I spent the night in our most loyal customer’s house…” She blushed, and a round of shocked faces stared back at her. “What? He was, well is, hot!” “Shut the front door!” Donna exclaimed, grabbing Y/N’s forearm in shock. “You slept with a customer? Does he still bring his car in?” “Yes, and yes!” Y/N grinned. “Look, it was a one-time thing and a week later, I started dating Rick,” she smiled woefully and looked at her blonde friend. “Come on, more tequila and then let’s dance!” she said, grabbing Donna’s hand and dragging her onto the dance floor. Sam, Castiel, Meg, Charlie and her new friend began a darts tournament inviting Benny and Dean to join them, but both declined. The boys watched on as Y/N and Donna had the time of their lives dancing to the classic rock covers the band were playing. Dean’s eyes never left Y/N’s swaying body and rolling hips keeping in time to the beat. “Are you ever gonna ask her out, brother?” Benny asks Dean, his blue eyes following his friend's line of sight to the Y/H/C girl on the dance floor. Benny and Y/N hit it off the second she called him out on his bullshit on her first day working at the garage, and as soon as that happened, he knew she and Dean would be a match made in heaven. They’d just never been single at the same time, and they both had this annoying trait of thinking they weren’t good enough for anyone, let alone one another. “Not this again!” Dean fumed. “No, I’m not. It’s not like that with us. I  mean, yeah, I like her… a lot, and sure, she’s beautiful, but we’re just friends. S’all we’ll ever be, right? She doesn’t like me like that. Even if she did, we’d never work. I’d find some way to fuck it all up. I always do.” “Sure, whatever you say,” Benny’s chuckle was laced with sarcasm, and he shook his head in exasperation at his friend. “Come on, man! You’ve seen the guys she dates. I can’t compare to trust funds and doctors and investment bankers,” Dean spat before raising his whiskey glass and swallowing its contents in one. “Those guys didn’t work for a reason, Dean. They were all assholes. You’re not. Trust me, you two are perfect for each other. You just can’t get past your own so-called faults to see it. Either of you,” Benny sighed and gestured to his glass, silently asking if he wanted another.
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An hour later, the only ones left were Dean and Y/N. No one was ready to call it a night just yet, but Donna had an early shift the next day and being the gentleman that he is, Benny took her home.
“Don’t look now, but Rick’s over there,” Dean said, instinctively moving closer to her. Was it protectiveness? Possessiveness? He wasn’t sure.
“Fantastic. There’s a great way to put me off my beer and ruin what was a fun night,” Y/N chuckled sadly, reaching for her jacket. 
“Hey, hey… look at me,” Dean said, placing his hand on her wrist, stopping her. “Don’t let him ruin your night, sweetheart. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that. You shouldn’t leave whenever he shows up. Lawrence is a small town. You’ll never stop running.”
“Right, because you’d stand your ground if it was Lisa that walked in here? Dean, you wouldn’t even go to your friend’s wedding alone because of her,” she scoffed. Glancing up at him, she saw a flash of hurt cross his features. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “That was a low blow. I’m frustrated and taking it out on you, and that’s not fair.”
“No, you’re right. I would be out that door so fucking fast if Lisa came in here,” Dean spoke honestly, knowing she wouldn’t judge him for his cowardice. “Maybe not if you were with me because she still thinks we’re dating,” Dean chuckled.
“Dean, you’re a good man. One of the best I know…” Y/N started, but Dean’s hand on her cheek stopped her.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, looking deep into her Y/E/C eyes.
“What?” Y/N responded, more than a little confused.
“Rick is coming over here. Do you trust me?” He asked again, softer this time.
“Well, yeah, but-” Before she could say anything else, Dean licked his lips and leaned in. He looked into her eyes for any signs of hesitation. Finding none, he looked down at her lips and closed the distance between them. His lips touched hers hesitantly, unsure if she’d kiss back or break his nose.
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Dean slid an arm around her waist to bring her in closer. He kept the kiss innocent with no tongue, but it felt no less passionate.
“So, you’re dating him now?” Rick’s voice broke them apart. “You moved on quick,” he hissed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/N spoke as calmly as she could, taking on a mildly irritated tone rather than the furious one she wanted to let loose with. “Weren’t you the one who ended things with me because I was holding you back? Didn’t you want to play the field? And feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you also the one who shacked up with Bela Talbot not two weeks later?”
“She was a mistake, Y/N. And I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t know what came over me. I miss you, and I still love you. Please…” Rick looked and sounded genuinely truthful, but she knew he was playing her because he’d been dropped by Bela as soon as the more successful and well-known businessman, Arthur Ketch, had looked in her direction.
“Just stop, Rick. I don’t want to hear it. You and me? We’re over. I don’t love you anymore. I don’t want you. I want more. More than you could ever possibly give me. I deserve more,” Y/N’s said, feeling relief wash over her and her shoulders relaxing for the first time in a long time.
“I-” Rick started, but she shook her head.
“My mind is made up, Rick. We’re over for good. I’ve moved on,” she gestured to Dean, who’d held her hand through the whole ordeal. “And you should too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get back to,” Y/N left no room for further conversation as she turned her back to him and put her full attention back on Dean.
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said as soon as Rick left. The kiss they shared had shifted their relationship. He could feel it. She’d kissed him the way you kiss a lover. Dean was finally starting to see just how perfect they were for each other, and now they were unattached at the same time.
The unmistakable sounds of Can’t Fight This Feeling sounded from the band up on the stage, and if that wasn’t a sign they were meant to be, Dean didn’t know what was. Bravely - or stupidly, it was yet to be decided, he threw all caution to the wind.
“I dare you to kiss me,” Dean blurted out.
“Dean…” Y/N began to speak, but Dean didn’t want to hear her rejection. Not when he still had something he had to say.
“Come on, kiss me! And tell me you don’t feel this… this thing between us!” he gestured wildly between them.
“Dean… I…” she tried again, but he still wasn’t finished.
“You can’t, can you? Because you feel it too… this pull towards me. And you’re scared. But sweetheart, you don’t need to be, alright? Because I’m in love with you. And if you let me, I’ll be everything you could ever need and want. I’m just asking for a chance here, Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t respond. She just blinked up at him with her long lashes. He was about to get up, walk away and admit defeat when her lips slammed to his.
Dean’s lips were soft, warm and perfectly plump, and she didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but she knew she wanted to taste more of him. She reached a hand out and wrapped it around his neck, gently pulling him closer to her.
Encouraged that she felt the same way he did, Dean licked at her lips, requesting entrance which she granted quickly. He moaned low in his throat when their tongues met, and everything around dulled to silence as they forgot their surroundings and got completely lost in each other.
Y/N didn’t know how much time had passed as they made out at the bar, and she didn’t want it to end. Making her mind up, she reluctantly pulled away from him, giggling as he chased after her lips. “You wanna get outta here?” she said shyly, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Dean grabbed her hand and helped her stand up. He took her jacket and helped her into that too. When she’d picked up her purse, and they left the table, Dean saw Rick glare over at them. Smirking, Dean placed his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and winked at the asshole who was stupid enough to let her go.
Part Four (Finale)>>
Jensen / Dean Tags: @akshi8278 @deanwanddamons @deans-baby-momma @siospins2 @sexyvixen7 @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731
Can’t Fight This Feeling Tags: @lilred91 @seppys-return-to-madness @im-totally-not-dezi @deanoxwinchester
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krisseb · 2 years ago
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I’ve recently just finished watching Normal People, and I know it’s kinda late. I’m just the type that waits for the hype to die down a bit, so I can see it in its full glory without prior judgment from the outside noise of the internet. I guess, I can say it’s really beautiful. I love all of it, the realness between characters, the realness of life portrayed in each scene. I love how Marianne and Connell fit together in their truest form, in all the gory details. I really think it’s really how love is, it’s patient, it waits, and it never gives up. I guess when you find that person that you love, everything is forgivable, and it changes you for the better. 
What I love the most from series is the little moments between them. I remember when they were talking about “best friends” and Connell told Marianne “you are my best friend”, and she just beamed. That look was just priceless and sincere, and that’s love; it leaks from every corner of your body. I also love the scene above, they were just driving and listening to Christmas songs, and laughing, and teasing each other, and Connell swiped his hand on Marianne’s head, and she just stayed there, feeling it all. I love how everything was so pure, and real. I’m just so grateful I got to see this show, because it made believe in real love. 
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@vacantgodling On it king !
The guardians (A Guardian's Tale) are basically non-human entities living as humans. They exist in a sorta regeneration cycle; as the current iteration begins to fade the next is born into the bodies of any lifeform in the universe. This is to both become accustomed to their powers over time and as a "this is what you're protecting". As humans, they have access to a 'demo version' of their guardian form which is called their Peiker, and is much easier on the human mind. This form needs to be unlocked though through things like badassery (Amber), faggotry (Max and William), and self-reflection (Kim).
The Hellion boys (Witchcraft and Alchemy) were marked by Lilith, the Demon they summoned because it seemed like a good idea at the time, which is what makes them Hellions; a sorta subcategory of Magicians who possess demonic magic. They're also rare because the likelihood of surviving a Demon summoning is extremely slim. Their demon forms are sadly only used fully when doing Lilith's final bidding and they've fully embraced being Hellions. Until that point, it's only teased. (Funnily enough, the final bidding happens like, right after an attempted exorcism like not only did you fail you made it worse)
André (The Neon Trilogy) is, spoilers, not human. He was grown in a lab, designed after humans and phoenixes (mainly humans, the phoenix bit is for ideological reasons and swag), so his "true" form is that of a hybrid. I have ideas for how it'll look, so I might doodle it sometime in the future. Obviously for André his truest form is the one where he's wholly human.
In the world of the Maledictus (which needs a new name because I kinda hate it lol) magic is sentient and chooses who wields it. They're contained in objects known as curios, with the maledictus having been split between eight chess pieces. And here's the thing; it's a curse. I'm continuously flopping back and forth as to what it is exactly, but the gist is that nobody should ever wield its power. However, like I mentioned, magic is sentient and does a little whatever it wants. The cursed forms take after the respective chess piece, and is a slow transformation set over time as the mc's use their powers more and more. Because of course I gotta add some body horror into it <3
Speaking of body horror; Leo and Vega (All The Stars Are Watching) ! To make a long story short; Vega is the host of the Astrum pillar, which reigns over magic. Being a host basically means you and your respective pillar are keeping each other alive. Some dumbfuck scientist wanted to study the pillar, and so swapped their places through a ritual. Disastrous mistake as proven in the Abomination trilogy. The pillar, fighting for its life, bonds with Leo (because Vega died in the ritual) and as it's getting settled back in its home realm, Leo and Vega momentarily fuse. It's not a Dragon Ball or Steven Universe fusion, as people can very easily distinguish between the two. Kinda like when you're clipping through someone in a video game. Anyways, it's only for a short period of time, soon as the Pillar is properly back they separate with Leo as the new host, and Vega as a dead person who can finally move on in peace.
giving my characters monster forms, as a treat
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