#Like. Did Caine give him a ring?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochinomnoms · 7 months ago

Note

Scenario: Some small item from the prefect's home world ends up in NRC. For example, my brother found a local brand of soda when he was out of our country for a few years. It made his whole week.

Option 1: Octotrio finds this item and know the significance of it. How do they give it to their dear prefect?

Or if option 2, if you want jealous Octotrio: Another student else gives the item to the prefect, and they are seething over how happy someone else made the prefect.

(sorry this is self-indulgent and I think im funy)

“A bottle of Mexican coke gets launched out of a wormhole and thunks them in the head. What is it? They have no clue, it looks like a soda, but they don't recognize the brand, logo, or anything really. It says Hecho en Mexico” on the side, though...wait! Isn't that a place from your homeworld? You'll love this!

“Ain't that the soda Shrimpy is always raving about?” Floyd was rubbing the side of his head that the glass bottle smacked into. It hurt like hell, and Jade hiding his laughter at his misery.

“Stop laughin', Imma bite you.”

“Fuhu, sorry Floyd.” Jade managed to clear his throat and straighten. “You just collapsed on the ground like a rag doll, it surprised me.”

“Yeah, how about I take that bottle and smack you up the head with it? We can see who looks more like a rag doll then”

“Think you could?

“Know I could.”

“I bet you can't”

“I bet I can, you fuc—”

Azul cleared his throat, drawing both of their attentions as he held the bottle in his hands.

“If you two would like to save the Cain instinct for another day, I do believe that we can garner the Prefect's favor with this.”

Both perked up, sharing a knowing look before smirking.

“Good point,” Jade replied, walking over to Azul to admire the bottle. “They have been shyer since our last outing with them, this would be a good opportunity to—”

“Floyd swiped the bottle from their hands and started a brisk jog as he called out, I got hit with it, so I get to take all the credit and all of my Shrimpy's love!”

“FLOYD!” Both chased after him, a loud, familiar cackle ringing through Main Street and everyone's ears.

You were none the wiser, chilling in your room with peace and quiet for once, as Grim was out with Epel in the Spelldrive Club. You gave it 1 hour before Leona got tired of him and sent him back to you.

Your peace was interrupted upon hearing the banging on your front door. Groaning, you got up and made your way to the entryway.

“I swear to God! Ace! If you're crashing here again, I'm getting you a literal doghouse!” You yelled out, huffing, as you swung the door open and instead found Floyd trying to wrestle a bottle of something from his grasp.

It was quite amusing, as Azul's grip wasn't even budging while Floyd pulled with all his might. Only Jade, who was on Azul's right, noticed you and smiled.

“Hello Prefect, how are you?” Jade nodded his head with a polite smile. “We apologize for the sudden intrusion, but we have something for you—”

“No, I found it! I have something for them!” Floyd whined, keeling over as Azul finally gabbed a harsh elbow into his ribs.

“You got hit in the head, I hardly count that as 'finding' it.” Azul gave you a pleasant smile, though you were wary of what the trio wanted from you to bring you something.

“We, all three of us, have a gift for you. We recognized it as something you've spoken about, and out of the kindness of our hearts, we decided to offer it to you in exchange for your time!”

“You snorted, glancing at the bottle in Azul's hands. Yeah, sure, 'kindness'. What's the point of a gift if—HOLY SHIT, IS THAT MEXICAN COKE?”

Azul stumbled backwards as you reached for the bottle in his hands, excitement gleaming in your eyes as you did.

“WHERE'D YOU GET THIS? ACTUALLY, I DON'T CARE! LET ME HAVE IT!”

Azul let out a yelp as you managed to pull the bottle from his hands, your eyes glittering and smile wide.

“You three don't know how bad I've been craving this since I've been here.” Sighing, you pressed the bottle, nice and cool, to your cheek in bliss.

“I would suck a man's dick for this shit, you don't even know.”

You froze at the choking sound in front of you, and snickering from the left and right. You noticed the light purple blush on Azul's cheeks and the pink ones on the twins. Jade was looking away, covering his mouth, but you could still see his lips quirk up. Floyd's snickering was growing into a full giggle.

“Ahem, I, ah, appreciate your enthusiasm for the gift. I'll keep that…in mind.”

“If he doesn't, we will. Isn't that right, Floyd?” Jade chuckled.

Floyd replied, “Oh for surrrre~ Say, Shrimpy?” Floyd leaned in, smile growing as he purred, “you up for offering that thank you?”

You backed away, face growing hotter as you pursed your lips. The twins laughed at you.

“Stop joking around! It was a joke and you know it!”

You could still hear the giggles from behind the door as you slammed it shut. However, you paused, hearing Azul murmur something to the twins and them quiet down. They sounded a bit disappointed, to be honest.

Sighing, you cracked open the door again, peeking out to the three. Azul was looking at you expectantly.

“Yes?”

“…Thanks. Do you guys wanna, uh, go out again this weekend? You said you wanted my time, in exchange, right?”

Azul visibly perked, giving you a closed eye smile as he nodded.

“Yes! How about we meet at 11am this Saturday at the gates? We can visit the town, you don't get to visit often, correct?”

“Yeah,” You smiled shyly. “Sounds good, I'll see you all then.”

“You pretended to not hear Floyd's whoop!” as you closed the door, chuckling to yourself.

“Weirdos. Cute ones, though.”

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #octotrio #polyoctotrio

568 notes · View notes

namazunomegami · 1 year ago

Text

Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #do not perceive me please idk how I came up with the whole cannibalcore pipeline #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #meesa writes

822 notes · View notes

ohnoitsjetster · 3 months ago

Note

Didn’t Herbert West technically TECHNICALLY try to baby trap Dan in Bride of Reanimator?

Thoughts?

(Im sorry this took forever to respond to. life got in the way, of my silly little words)

technically, yes. The main intention was the same. But "Baby Trap" does not even start to explain the shit Herbert pulled in Bride of Reanimator.

thoughts? you want THOUGHTS? alright how about let me break down exactly what Herbert did here:

That man stole Megan's heart from an evidence locker and stored it in his fridge. When Dan tried to leave Herbert, He offered the heart to Dan with every ounce of reverence he could deliver without getting down on one knee.

that is to say, Herbert anticipated that Dan would leave him and saw that he loved Megan. So his reaction was to steal Megan's actual physical HEART, and give it to Dan as an offering to force him to stay.

He vaguely explained that he was about to baby trap him with it, to which Dan agreed because of his blind love for Meg, and his blind love for Herbert, and because, in the words of Bruce Abbot, "no one will ever get rich overestimating Dan's bad taste."

(This could maybe be because the world of Reanimator uses weird sci-fi logic where the heart contains the person's personality or life or whatever, and it'd actually bring Meg back (even though these movies seemed pretty brain-focused thus far), in which case, pretty good manipulator leverage! nice job, Herbie! Otherwise, its either because Herbert knew Dan would like this weird creepy gesture of love, or because Herbert thought this weird creepy gesture of love was a normal and good idea, and coincidentally Dan was that same wavelength of out-of-touch freak as Herbert, because they're just meant for each other or something. That last option is my personal favorite)

So, then Herbert goes around the hospital STEALING more body parts off corpses (former patients who also presumably received some form of care and attention from Dan), trying to create Dan's perfect woman based on his shallow perception of whatever it is that straight, allosexual, relatively neurotypical men like (maybe since Herbert can't be what Dan wants romantically, he can create it for him and earn love that way (that cannot be good for His internalized transphobia)).

so then he meticulously assembles a woman like an Ikea cabinet and proceeds to give Dan the worlds most sensual elevator pitch, using... a line that he heard Dan use with his girlfriend when he was eavesdropping on them having sex. He tries to explain why this is the perfect woman for all your woman needs! Like uhhh sex, and... sex, and lawyering? maybe murder? (I guess he thinks it'd be nice to have a woman who can kill for you and defend your crimes in a court of law. That does sound useful in their situation)

Then he watched the Bride fight Francesca like some sort of underground girlfriend fighting ring, as if the larger and stronger girl would win ownership of our poor pathetic Dr Cain. Unfortunately Herbert's creation broke down to nothing when it removed its own heart to give it to Dan in the same exact gesture with which Herbert showed Dan the heart earlier.

Pure heterosexual coincidence, of course. There is absolutely nothing odd about Herbert's gift to Daniel being a grotesque amalgamation of everyone Dan loved instead of him and everything those people had to offer Dan, fueled by the pumping of Megan's heart (whom Herbert had hated and competed with), a heart both stolen and offered willingly, one both frozen and thawed, both beating and dead. There Dan stays, too close, yet too far. (am i reading into it- You Bet)

Yup. Pure coincidence. And also nothing suspicious about it being a creature created of such concentrated love, reverence, devotion, and bitter fear of rejection, that at the moment of being pushed away, it entirely self destructs because its only purpose was to love Dan and be loved by him. Its only purpose was to be perfect for Dan, to be enough for him, to be some action of Herberts blood sweat and tears that could ever be wanted by him. But of course Herbert doesn't understand Daniel - understand people - as well as he hoped too. Dan is horrified. No clearer rejection than that. If we see her as an extension of Herbert, it's obviously the last straw. Herbert truly did everything for Dan, not only was he still unlovable, but repulsive, an affront to... what have you; god, nature, some simple short-sighted ideal of what a human should be. Above that Dan could see the seams of the uncanny imitation of his past loves, and the love that laid beneath was too much for him. Too loud, too fast, too raw and bloody. So it dies. The heart is given, and thrown away.

What I'm trying to say is that shit was crazy. Herbert could have done a much more cut and dry baby trap. He could have reanimated some random kid, forcing Dan to stick around and protect it. That would have been its own special kind of fucked up and is probably a good fanfic prompt. But noooo, Herbert had to do the most psychosexual, convoluted, batshit, traumatizing, bloody, gory, and frankly unnecessary declaration of love that could be achieved by one little scientist with nothing to his name but a little green potion and every mental illness. I for one think it was a fantastic idea.

No tldr, ur just gonna have to match my freak on this one. Hope my mad ramblings made some sense. Peace and love

#saying stuff #asks #rambles #reanimator #herbert west #daniel cain #danbert #bride of reanimator #the bride of reanimator

100 notes · View notes

d6volution · 1 year ago

Text

Ringmaster.

Rating: Explicit.

Caine/Reader. | Fem aligned reader.

tags: fingering, body modification, aphrodisiacs.

minors dni.

Chapter 1: Escapades.

It had been about a week since you showed up, well got stuck in this digital world. Instead of wallowing in your bedroom, you decided to take a walk towards the digital lake. Trying to recreate the feeling of getting 'fresh air.'' For a moment you actually felt.. at ease until a bustling voice startled you.

"Gooood morning, Y/N!" Caine said, a little too loudly for your liking. "I hope you got all the artificial sleep you needed, because you and I are going on a very special adventure today!" Caine was floating next to you, as you hadn't stopped walking.

His announcer voice was definitely more overwhelming and somehow louder in the early hours of the morning. "Wait.. us? What kind of adventure?" The words just clicked, he doesn't.. usually go on adventures with you all.

"Worry not my dear, that's exactly where we're going now!" He exclaimed and twirled his baton until it was facing you for added dramatic effect. He wrapped his arm around your waist and much like during the tour on your first day, he yanked you into the tent in mere seconds. But in a more secluded section of the brightly colored building.

You were dizzy and holding your head as your feet were somehow on the ground now. "Wh.. Wha.."

What you didn't notice until your dizzy spell faded was the heaviness to your chest and .. other strange feeling in parts of your body you hadn't felt before. Your once "normal" body ... well— in the digital sense at least, was closer to humans now. You still had the same outfit, but now it was filled out with sizely breasts among other things.

"Caine.. what is this..? What the [censor!] did you do!?"

"Now now, what did I say about such foul language? And that my sweet little, Y/N is all going to be explained .... Right now!" He spun into the air, raising his hands to keep the dramatics up to par.

"You see, your giddy old ring master here needs entertainment of his own don't you agree!? So you will be that entertainment! And don't you worry your pretty little head, I'll even give you a head start!"

He said and snapped his fingers, and just then you felt a strange sensation course through your body, it caused your knees to buckle and body to grow immensely hot. "W.. What's going on..." You muttered, feeling heat grow between your legs and nipples growing hard against your clothes.

Caine was staring for a moment, watching you fall apart at the snap of his fingers.

He cleared his throat, "Now this should be very simple and might I say fun too! Just keep your body satiated and satisfied and the effects still eventually wear off!"

"S.. Satisfied.. you can't mean.." He wanted you to masturbate!?

"Oh , but I mean it my dear! Now chop chop!" He waved his baton and a floating chair appeared, just a few feet above the ground. Caine sat down and watched.

"You can't be s-serious.. ! I can't do that while you're.. watching!" You felt extremely self conscious , but just as he said your body was becoming increasingly hot and the urge to touch yourself only grew with every passing second. Your mind was clouding with lust and your better judgement was flying out the window.

"If I don't watch how else am I supposed to keep tally off everytime you climax my dear? It's very important to keep count!" As he spoke a chalkboard appeared next to him, also seamlessly floating in the air.

"Oh! Perhaps it'd be better if we had more company?? I could invite Zooble! Or even Jax!" He exclaimed, speaking as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"N.. No, no!" You had to save yourself from further humiliation. You looked up, and Caine wasn't in his chair anymore.

Suddenly you felt two hands groping your chest from behind, and you yelped in surprise. Unfortunately whatever Caine did to your body was having such a strong effect that you were melting into his hands.

"See? Was that so hard dear! You just needed a little push is all!" Caine spoke from behind you, without hesitation he slipped his hand up your shirt and groped your bare breasts instead, pinching at your nipple which made your knees weak.

"C.. Caine, sensitive..!" You whined, grabbing his arm, but he didn't stop.

"That's the point im afraid! Perhaps if you started sooner you wouldn't as sensitive but! Now that I think about it I prefer it this way!" He laughed , the sound reverberating throughout the room.

Your hand seemed to move on its own, trailing towards your cunt that was already leaking. You stuck your hands in your pants and began to rub gentle circles onto your clit, it was so sensitive that your own legs closed around your hand. "Please..hha.."

Your noises were like music to his ears, causing him to 'accidentally' pull at one of your nipples rather hard, causing you to yelp and jolt in his arms.

"Whoops! Sorry my dear, seems my hands have a mind of their own today!"

He could see your hand disappearing into your pants, sensing how gentle you were being with yourself seemed to make him just a little.. agitated. "Now now, you'll have to do better than that!" One of his hands pulled itself from your shirt and instead yanked your hand from your pants. Replacing it with his own.

You were too deep in this cloud of lust, and body subsequently too weak to fight back against his advances.. not like you really wanted to anymore.—

"Ah, here we are!" He stuck two fingers inside of your wet cunt, and they slipped in with ease. He didn't take his time and immediately pumped them in and out at a rapid pace. Behind that jolly visage was an incredibly impatient man it seems.

"C.. Caine, Caine..! Hhaa! Please!" You whined and babbled out as he mercilessly fingered your hungry cunt.

"That's my name, don't wear it out my dear! Now how about a third?" He added another finger, stretching your cunt out deliciously on his fingers. Yet you still took it with ease, and after a few more pumps your body got tense, knees buckling as you cried out in pleasure.

"You made quite the mess I'm afraid!" He commented and slowly removed his fingers from your cunt, running his big tongue along his dirtied fingers.

"Caine.. finished now..?" You said, leaning against him for support. And he held you firm enough that you wouldn't fall.

"Of course not dear! The tallyboard isn't here for nothing , we're just getting started after all!" He says with pure excitement and just like he said..

there was one mark on the tally board.

#minors dni #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus caine #tadc caine #caine x reader #caine x reader smut

513 notes · View notes

crsssie · 1 year ago

Text

batfam as couple tiktoks pt.2

word count: 1.7k

summary: couple tiktoks I've seen on douyin with the batboys

𓅫. running off mid-proposal to buy a ring - Bruce Wayne

"So, will you please marry me?" Opening the ring box, Bruce looks up at you. You blink owlishly at Bruce, pursing your lips as you hold your hand up. Bruce tilts his head at you in confusion as you rush off, and your friends and his kids all pause to process what the hell just happened. "Father, I believe this is a no." Damian stares at your retreating figure. "No, I think they'd at least give B the courtesy of a rejection." Steph mumbles. "This... dumbass!" Your friend curses, clicking on her phone violently as she dials again, your phone sending her to voicemail. "Let's just go back." "No." Bruce frowns. "Just a little longer." It eats him alive. Bruce isn't even sure if you'll run back or come back, but he has an inkling of a suspicion that you wouldn't just leave him like that. You've never just run away from him like that— not even when he showed up in front of you half-dead as Batman. You didn't just run away like that. You never have. "Really, Bruce, I think—" "I'm back!" You yell from the distance, Tiffany bag in tow as you run to Bruce, fumbling to get the box out, smiling at him stupidly as you show him the ring. "Will you marry me?" Bruce laughs, a sound coming from his chest as you grin at him, smile lopsided. "Only if you marry me." "Deal." You grin, and Bruce presses his lips to yours. Yes. Always.

𓅫. are you ready, mr. styles? - Dick Grayson

The flood of tiktok notifications comes one morning way before Dick gets out of bed— still sprawled out on your shared bed, and you squint at your phone screen, sleep still all over your face. "... I'm sleeping on the highway tonight?" You click open the notification, blinking as you notice Dick's username, scrolling to the second photo as you listen to the audio. ...Dick made a tiktok about you again. Right. ..oh. You smile as you notice the photo, a familiar one, a photo that Dick had insisted on taking while the two of you were out for dinner a couple of days ago. You click through the audio and confirm your thoughts. Dick posted you to a couple audio again. The news gives you butterflies as you lean down to press a kiss to Dick's temple, yelping as he yanks you down instead, pulling you on top of him as he smiles. "G' morning, gorgeous." "'morning." You smile. "I saw your tiktok." "Did you?" "Yeah." You hum. "Were you planning on telling me?" "No." He mumbles, pressing your head to his heart as you listen to it beat. "Love you." "Love you too."

𓅫. shopping in his arms - Jason Todd

"Which one?" "Mm..." You purse your lips, grimacing. "I want the regular." Jason adjusts you in his arms, mumbling for you to tighten your arms. You listen, craning your neck to try and look behind you at the product. You don't know what prompted him to ask you to do this, but you aren't complaining. You like it (even if your arms don't) "I figured." He hums, reaching for the carton as your arms tighten around his neck. "I'm not going to drop you, you know?" "Shopping like this is really inconvenient." You grumble. "Let me down?" "Mm... no." He grins. "We're only here for this, no?" "We could've just gotten this from the regular market..." "You love this." You can't deny that. "Can we get batburgers later?" "Of course."

𓅫. handcrafting a hairpin for you - Cass Cain

"I have a gift for you." Cass squeezes you gently as she holds the gift bag to the side. "I hope you like it." "I'll like anything you give me." You smile. "What is it?" "I'm taking woodworking, right?" "Yeah?" You take the bag from her, leading her to the couch. "You can open it." You blink at the Chinese written on the wood, tilting your head. "I'm pulling out google translate for this." You fish for your phone. "It's from the song." She mumbles. "my affection is genuine, my love is real, the moon represents my heart." "CASSSS!!!" You sob, throwing your arms around her as you press your cheek to hers. "I love you. I'm love you. I'm in love with you." "I love you too." She smiles. "Open it." You open the box, a sob breaking past your lips as you stare at the hairpin, picking it up as you notice the phoenix and lotus flowers. Your lips pull downward as you stare at Cass, tears forming in your eyes. "Awwh, I love you too, baby," She presses your head to her chest. "Do you like it?" "I love it. I hope they bury me with this." You mumble in tears. Cass laughs.

𓅫. Cause all of the small things that you do - Tim Drake

"...what are these?" Tim looks up from his laptop, noticing the giant bundles in your arm. "Okay, so there's this trend going around Tiktok right now to this song where couples will show off matching blankets, and I got a set for us!" You grin. "Also because you need a new blanket to swap out when your old one smells nasty." "Are you saying I smell?" "I'm not saying you don't." You smile innocently. "Go shower." "I need to finish—" "You're no fashion king while looking like a rat. You're like that one audio. How does it go? claimed he wasn't the rat king but one night you followed him into the sewers and he sat on a makeshift throne and a bunch of rats surrounded him and he definitely said "I am the rat king."" You pause. "The ex-boyfriends audio." "When I finish this case." "You solved your last one two minutes ago when I walked in. Go shower while I unwrap our blankets." You wave him off. "Boo." Tim gets up, stretching his arms as the old blanket falls off his shoulders, and he presses a kiss to the crinkle of your eye, humming. "Can I see the blanket before I shower?" You pull one out, showing him one side, and then the other. "I love it. Thank you, pretty bird."

𓅫. paper rings - Steph Brown

"Steph, pretty girl!!" You land on the couch next to her, cuddling up to her as you show her the new photos you put into a capcut template. "Wait this is—" She shows you her phone screen, and you laugh. It's the same template, your face plastered on it instead. "You wanna marry me with paper rings?" You poke her cheek, grinning. "Says the one who does." She rolls her eyes playfully. "Yeah, I do." You stick your tongue out. "I'll marry you with grass rings if I have to." "Okay, that's not necessary. Worst comes to worst, we rob Bruce." You feign a gasp. "You're evil." "You love me." "I do." You sigh blissfully, kicking your legs. "I'd marry you with ring pops too." "Oh, that's such a steal." She mumbles. "Let's get ring pops for our wedding rings." "Hell yes."

𓅫. hauling a can of water to Duke after sports day - Duke Thomas

"Did you know Duke was so handsome?" one of the girls in class gush. "I'm going to give him water after the event. Surely he'll be sweaty and stuff." "What makes you think he's going to take your water over mine?" Her friend shoves her playfully, grabbing a bottle of her own, running off as your mouth hands open. You blink at the text message Duke sent you beforehand, and then at the emptied shelves in the store on campus. ... they're out of bottles. shit. Your eyes wander to the ground as you spot sealed water cans. That'll do, you suppose. Duke finishes the game relatively quickly. You've grown used to his speed, so when all the girls flock around him to hand him a bottle of water, you settle with calling for Duke instead, waving your hand as you point at the can on the bench next to you. He bursts into laughter as he jogs over to you. "Did they take all of them?" He lifts it effortlessly, cracking the can open as he starts drinking. "You don't know how awful it was." You grimace. "Curse your good genetics." "Honored." He smiles. "So?" "Good game." You grumble, looking to the side, cheeks flushed. "Thank you."

𓅫. the olive theory - Damian Wayne

"I was telling her about it, so she was—" You pick out the olive from your pizza, placing it on Damian's plate. "— talking about how her friend had somehow hooked up with her boyfriend. So now they're trying to break up." Damian nods slowly as you continue. "Now the girl who hooked up with my friend's boyfriend is crying to me about how I need to tell her to calm down. I mean, what was she expecting? Gothamites are insane." You mumble, picking out another olive. "What is your friend planning?" "Arson, but you didn't hear that from me." "Sounds relatively tame. Is she native?" "Not quite. She moved here when she turned ten." You mumble, picking another out, grimacing. "How many olives did they put on this?" "Two more." He hums, reaching over to pick them out for you, popping them into his mouth. "That's why. Todd used to joke about how native gothamites just use their connections to ruin someone's life." "If it were me... I'd just send Tim over." "Not Todd?" "I think, arguably, Tim has committed more war crimes than Jason." You finally bite into your pizza. "If you do the math." Damian pauses to think. "Yes. That checks out." "Thank you, by the way." You mumble. "Maybe next time I'll just make it so that half of the pizza doesn't have olives." "I do not mind, habibi." He looks at you, eyes gentle. "Now, tell me. Did the boyfriend get kicked?" "Oh, he definitely did—"

#when I tell you half of these made me GAG when I saw them mE WHEN MF #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #duke thomas x reader #cass cain x reader #stephanie brown x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #☾.blend

884 notes · View notes

vanilleandclove · 6 months ago

Text

the meadow in which you lay | 6

ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter six: a raven disguised as a crow

Upon reaching Dragonstone, the ideals of allowing your love to pursue his oath unabashedly and correctly ring through your head, only problem is, he is unabashedly and correctly understanding the means of loving you whilst being sworn into an oath.

word count: 1.5k | warnings: me when the reader is avoidantly attached like every man i have once encountered, LUCERYS, tooth-rotting love confessions. | a/n: currently listening to thoroughfare by ethel cain, this part is going to be angsty i fear.

previous - next

taglist: @wolvestitches @holb32 @callsignwidow @fwaeriys @hummusxx @erysione @snixx2088 @opheliax98

Erryk and yourself had reached Dragonstone come the set of the next sun, seeing flames in the distant, you felt a lump in your throat as you both approached the scene. As three, now Queensguard, drew their swords at the sight of Ser Erryk as another announced your name and title. You found yourself holding Erryk, lacing your arm within his.

"I mean no harm brothers" Erryk told the guards, Daemon signaling them to rest their position as Erryk took the Crown of Jaehaerys I and Viserys I. Erryk kneeled, swearing fealty and his life to your dear cousin, her eyes filled with shock before they caught yours, the look of love it was.

"I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor" Erryk swore as Daemon took the crown from his hands, crowning your cousin before kneeling. Soon after, you all kneeled, besides Rhaenys who just gave your cousin a nod of both pride and honor.

After which, Erryk found himself walking to you, resting his forehead on yours "I am sworn to a Queen now" he whispered, you nodded as there were no words to say, his hand found itself on your waist. You bit your lip lightly, forbidding yourself from letting your emotions be on display.

"You- We must go" you whispered back, choosing to bite your tongue rather than tell him how much you love him, you too, would give your blood for his. You removed yourself from the hold of his, finding your now Queen of a cousin to hug her, she had a stillbirth and was crowned within the next turn of the night.

"Any secret would you like to share?" Rhaenyra joked to ease the mood, you looked at her somberly, "There are men in the Kingsguard whom are oathbreakers and heathens. He is not one of them, no matter the vow of chastity".

"There is a war to be fought over the succession, I fear his blood being in me more than it is defending you may cause some feats we can prevent" you told your cousin before giving her a warm hug.

Towards the end of the sunset, you had not spoken a word to Erryk, simply walking side to side with your cousin, even in the war room. You chose to remain distant, it was the easiest way for you, but you knew it was cruel to Erryk. Near the end of planning and Daemon's outburst, your cousin dismissed all of you. You quickly made your way to your set chambers in Dragonstone.

Your peace interrupted by a knock on your door, opening the door to be met with Erryk, hair completely down and armor retired into sleeping attire. You opened the door wider to invite him in, not speaking a singular word.

"I was raised in the Crownlands" Erryk started, fidgeting with his fingers lightly, "I was knighted into the Kingsguard alongside my brother when we were just eight and ten. By then, I was privileged to be infatuated with this Lady of the Vale. At times, I regretted the decision of my oath seeing that I would potentially have to see her marry a higher lord, siring his children, and live a life that I was not in. Extremely selfish, I loved this Lady to the extremes that it did not matter what oaths I took or swore" Erryk confessed, your lips parted from the confession. "Tell me you do not love me and I will forget everything we shar-".

"I love you Erryk" you shook your head, "You are the only man I have ever loved and found myself waiting for; I cannot let you go, ever". You walked away from the knight, going to your vanity, "There is a war to be fought, blood to be spilled, I cannot fully love you the way I am able to under these conditions".

"Come the end of the war then," Erryk told you optimistically, "I will marry you". You smiled at the promise of certainty, you looked into the knight's eyes once more, eyes reminiscent of the ocean. "I should go to my quarters; we both have long duties to be served".

You nodded in agreement before Erryk left your quarters. There was an exaggerated feeling of anxiety in the air, the unsettling pit in your stomach led that feeling to increase by tenfold. Taking a breather to look outside your chamber's windows, wondering if there was a reason. You seemingly shut out all the worries that clouded your mind in order get rest, must the gods punish you like this? Without reason?

Come morning, the anxiety diminished, as you entered the war room, you took place next to Erryk. His hand found a place on the small of your back before his fingers brushed through your hair, he admired the color and how it flowed, he loved the feeling, even with his gloved hand.

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm" Erryk shouted as your cousin made her way into her war room before her people.

As the lords planned out the war, spitting out ideas that quickly faltered, your cousin being the only one whom held restraint, Daemon's temper led him to be excused on his own terms. You positioned yourself opposite of Erryk, next to your nephews.

"The Lord of the Tides! Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen" Erryk announced out of nowhere as the lords ceased their dispute. Your back straightened from the announcement, fearing the words that were yet to be declared by Corlys, your hand found itself resting on your blade.

Though you did not have to worry as much, as Corlys swore anew his oath to your cousin, giving his land for her cause. One of the happiest of memories it was in the war room. As Jacaerys advocated for his mother's cause simply putting that he and his brother should be the ones delivering the messages to Baratheon, Arryn, and Stark. Though you swore allegiance to your cousin, it was Jeyne who had a say on whether House Arryn would ride for your cousin's cause and claim, you trusted Jace in the care of your Jeyne, though she was kind, she always had been fierce for the sake of your house.

It took upon hours, the sun had since set, yet you and the lords strategized the war, surprised the lords took your words into consideration despite the sexism you faced to that of the Lannisters and Hightowers. The Lady Arryn must close her mouth as well as her legs, Alicent once teased as she figured out your affections were set to Erryk, you were near ladies of nine and ten, as she married Viserys and sired him children- boys to be exact including sweet Haelena, Rhaenyra married Laenor, you remained unmarried.

It was only until Daemon came back into the war room, that feeling of anxiety came back once again, your back straightened, only Erryk took notice as his hand reached for the small of your back. You shrugged him off, giving him a look of worry, as the room went silent, you reached for the raven's words that nearly left your cousin's hands in defeat.

Your heart dropping, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly turned to sobs, the raven delivering the message of crows.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon, heir to Driftmark, has been slain in a harmless dispute with Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Harmless? Harmless be the murderous instinct both Aemond and his older, drunken, usurper brother, Aegon exhibited when your nephews were their kin and significantly younger than them yet constantly berated. Your blood ran hot, boiling even, your ears rang to the point where you could not hear the words that came from Erryk's mouth.

#hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #ser erryk #ser arryk #ser erryk cargyll #ser arryk cargyll #rhaenyra #rhaenrya targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon fanfiction #ser erryk cargyll x reader #erryk cargyll #erryk cargyll x reader #angst #smut

110 notes · View notes

plutoswritingplanet · 11 months ago

Text

Ring Of Fire (Lucifer x Female!Reader)

a/n: again, no one asked for this, but i've been rewatching supernatural and there is something about season 5 Lucifer that just hits the spot for me. this one will be multiple chapters (i swear), a bit on the darker side. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (nothing too scandalous), Soulmates (but not really), follows season 5 storyline, Kinda Depressing, Strongly Inspired by "Preacher's Daughter" by Ethel Cain

Summary: Knowing God has an actual plan for you would be comforting for most people. You, however, seem to be always down on your luck.

PT.2

The foliage is damp with the night's air, water seeping into the fabric of your jeans, as you sit in the low bushes, watching. Smoke still fills your lungs, and grief still fills your heart, Jo and Ellen's faces etched just beneath your eyelids. Tears stain your cheeks, drying slowly on your skin, forming an uncomfortable crust. It's been such a long time since you've experienced loss such as this. One that rips something out of you and refuses to give it back. You must've grown too comfortable since Dean has been brought back, life needed to bring you back down. Your hands hurt from the tight grip you hold on a branch of a nearby tree, nerves locking you in place, as you watch Dean approach the Devil. Except, you're not there anymore.

It's warm inside Bobby's home, and you've changed out of your past outfit, scattering it on the floor, never to be used again. Still, you can feel phantom moisture on your knees, elbows, on the palms of your hands. Coldness, like nothing you've ever experienced, seeps deep into your bones, taking root within you. No candle, no prayer, no ancient exorcism can cleanse you of the revelations you've seen tonight. Your head feels heavy, when you drop it onto the pillow, as if some weight is pressing you further down, through the comforter, through the bed and the wooden floor. Through all the layers of Earth, until you're right where you're supposed to be.

It's unfortunate, you thought back then, compelled to reveal yourself from your hideout by one command you couldn't ignore, he looks just like any human. Tall and lean, with a little softness to his body. His clothes were unassuming as well, casual. As if he just took a stroll through the woods from a supermarket. No one told you the name of his vessel, who he was before he said yes, why did he do it. His eyes were ordinary as well. Blue and gray, aged, tired. Human.

It would've been so easy to pass him on the streets, not knowing. He could've been one of the patrons in the countless bars you've visited while on the hunt. Handsome, yes, with an aura of a beaten dog around him, that, in any other circumstances would've made him irresistable to you. You could never refuse a hopeless case, now you supposed you knew why.

Sam made you tea. It sits untouched on your night stand, steam flowing in dancing ribbons into the ceiling. Somehow, you can't seem to force yourself to drink it, even if you know the intention behind it has been kind. You couldn't eat as well, the smell of cooking coming from Bobby's kitchen reminded you too much of the smell of smoke coming from the exploding hardware store. And his smell.

Burning coals, cedar wood, jasmine, all of them were pleasant once. Now, you know they will always be stuck in your head with only one association. Lucifer.

Even thinking of his name brings a wave of shivers running down your back, as you curl into yourself on the bed. Your fingers scratch at skin of your jaw, trying to regain some sense of autonomy. Still, you can feel a phantom of his icy touch, where he grabbed your face like his hands were meant for it. And in a way they were. At least, that's what he told you.

The demons gathered around the mass grave didn't even react, as you ran out of your cover, pushed to reveal yourself by the sight of Dean's flying body. Because how else would he coax you out, if not through the hurt of your boys? In hindsight, you were glad Dean was unconscious for the most part of this ordeal. After the night's events, it was hard to look him in the eye, you didn't need him witnessing your downfall over your head as well. Sam tried to make his way over to you, feet sliding cautiously through the grass, but suddenly Lucifer's eyes were on you, and you could feel your fate get sealed then and there.

He clasped his hands in front of him, pursing his lips as he took you in, cowering on the ground, trying hard to find Dean's pulse.

- You boys brought me a gift - he mused, eyes crinkling with some strange emotion - You shouldn't have.

One gesture later, you're up on your feet, limbs trembling as he abandoned his shovel in favor of making his way towards you. You're frozen, fear seizing you in a tight grip, and you can't seem to think straight, as you watch him approach. Last day on Earth, you muse, life flashing before your eyes, when he raises both his hands. And then he grips your face, gentle yet confident, and the world around you spins. He's cold, so cold it's unnatural. Your lips fall apart in a silent gasp.

- Do you know who you are? - he asks in a quiet voice that suddenly makes you understand why he's temptation incarnate - Do you know why you were put on this Earth?

All you can do is stare, confusion creasing your eyebrows. His breath reaches your collarbones, as he lowers his head slightly. You can hear him chuckle to himself. The sound makes you shudder, fear and anticipation mix within your gut.

- All those years of hunting, struggling... - your life seems so trivial, coming from his lips - It all lead you here, to me. Doesn't that sound lovely?

It doesn't. It most definitely doesn't. Tears of confusion prick at the corners of your eyes, your breathing quickens. Panic settles into your nerves like a paralyzing blanket. Because here stands a threat of magnitude you couldn't even dream of. The Satan, the Devil, Bible's biggest villain. And he knows something about you, that you cannot comprehend.

- It's really quite pathetic, when you think about it - he muses, hands leaving your face in a flash, as he starts to pace in thought.

Swaying in your place, you risk looking at Sam, his confusion mirroring your own. Dean is still unconscious beside him. There's a thin smudge of blood running down his forehead, and you want to move so badly. You've spent years caring for these boys, being there for them, whenever they needed you. Yet, at this crucial moment all you can do, is stare in horror.

- My Father's last ditched attempt - Lucifer turns to you with a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes - To give me my own special little bag of worms. To own, to care for, to change my mind.

- What?

Your own voice sounds foreign to your ears. Lies. Those had to be lies. He's Satan after all, manipulation was his forte. Yes, that had to be it. Just another, messed up way at getting an upper hand over Sam.

This time, you nearly scream when he advances towards you, his cold hands immediately finding purchase on your face, covering your jaw and your cheeks. He presses against your face so hard, you have to take a step back as he comes closer still. Sam's figure flashes out of the corner of your eye, and suddenly you feel the rough surface of a tree bark digging into your back.

- You - for the first time you can hear some tension in his voice, something more than cold indifference - You were made for me, Honey. Just like Sam is destined to be my vessel, you're destined to be by my side. To own, to care. - he repeats those words like a mantra, and you want to throw up at how genuine he sounds.

He smiles at your terror. Tears start to flow freely from your eyes, falling on his cold fingers, skipping down his arms in smudges. His hands start to move, a perversion of a caress, as he ruffles your hair. Your head bounces off the tree, and you try with all your might to free yourself out of his grip. Your limbs flail at your sides, and you crane your neck so far back, your muscles start to strain. He doesn't let go, pressing himself closer, one of his hands coming up to grip your hair. Your nails dig into his cotton shirt, as you push against his chest to no avail.

- No - you whisper, your rejection falling flat against his unaffected stare - I'd never...

- See, but that's the best part - his sudden enthusiasm scares you deeper, than any passive stare ever could. - Unlike Sam...

You backpedal into the tree again, as he leans closer still. His cold breath mixes with your short, panicked ones, and your stomach churns, when he tilts his head in curiosity, as if he's experiencing this intimacy for the first time. And in a way, you suppose he is. Then, his eyes meet yours, gray captivates you, and you hold your breath on instinct.

- You don't have to say yes to me.

You're not even allowed the decency of taking a gasp of air, when his lips press into yours. It feels beyond weird. He's unnaturally cold, and there is a sort of unpracticed sloppiness in the way he fights for your mouth to fit against each other. Reminding you of your first, inexperienced romances, he smashes your faces together until you feel both sets of your teeth through the flesh. Then, he pulls back just a smidgen, taking in your terrified face. Something flashes through his expression, and he sighs, leaning back towards you, stopping just short of your left ear.

- Kiss me like you mean it, or I'll make Dean eat his intestines.

He looks at you, just once, letting you know this is not a game. Your heart stops.

Dean's unconscious body starts to move by the tree, and never in your life have you felt so helpless. So, when Lucifer unavoidably leans back down, you give him all you've got. Your body arches, hands come up to his hair, and you will yourself not to feel grossed out by the feeling of his cold tongue slipping past your teeth. It's a fight for survival, you remind yourself, as his hands move to your back, rubbing your skin like a horny teenager in a bathroom stall. The short supply of air you've been granted runs out quickly, and as pressure builds in your lungs, you start to push against the Archangel's chest. He doesn't register what you're doing, not at first, confusing your sudden unwillingness as some sort of late attempt at rebellion. That is, until you bang your fist against his shoulder, letting out a muffled scream.

Finally, he detaches himself, hair even more disheveled than before. You take a heaving gasp of air, as you brace yourself against the tree, your vision swimming ever so slightly. Lucifer watches you, his body hunched over, as if he's observing some middle schooler's science project. There are new tears in your eyes, just waiting to fall. Your hair is disheveled and your lips are puffy from his unpracticed assaults. His right hand comes up to his face, and he bites on his index finger in thought.

- You really are human - he muses to himself, and with every fiber of your being, you try to explode his head with your brain - That's no fun, you'll break so easily...

- Fuck you - your words make his eyebrows raise, and he straightens out with a flourish.

- Fuck you - he repeats, mocking your tone - Yeah, I probably will - you watch, disgusted, as he sends a wink towards Sam.

Then, he's back to his shovel, back to his mass grave, where he completes the ritual.

You can't move, not really, even when Sam tugs on your shoulder. Your head runs empty, realization of your current predicament far from registered in your brain. You stay frozen in your spot, when Castiel arrives, taking the three of you back to Bobby's house. Only, when the Angel's hand pushes against your rib cage, only when you feel Enochian symbols burn into your bones, do you lift your gaze. Apologetic doesn't really cover the way Castiel looks at you, and the pity painted on his face drags you down more than any Devil could.

Sam is the only one to truly understand, when you fall to the floor, shock, anger and dread spilling out of you like a broken faucet. He's the only one that truly knows how it feels to have your bodily autonomy stripped away by the literal Devil. How it feels to have a threat of such magnitude hanging over you, every day. Which is why, he's the one to lift you in his arms, and get you to the guest room, lead away by the concerned glances of the rest of the men. He's the one to make you tea, bring you fresh clothes. He opens the window when the smell of dinner makes you retch. And finally, he's the one to explain, what really happened back on that hill to the rest of the group.

From your fetal position on the bed you can hear Dean curse, throw something somewhere. All the ways he knows, how to show he cares. Despite everything, it makes you smile, face pressed to the pillow that smells like cigarette smoke and beer. You're doomed. There's nothing you can do against God's plan, and you can feel that thought take root in you like an invasive species ready to destroy every crop in it's path. Still, despite it all, a sense of security falls upon you like a decieving blanket.

- What sort of a messed up game is this? - Dean screams somewhere in the house, you assume it's at Cass, the only one even remotely aware of your destiny.

The idea, that God made you specifically to be Satan's personal therapist sounds far fetched at best, but given how the last couple of months have been going, you're more inclined to believe in the absolutely worst scenarios. You don't even need to hear Castiel's response. The sound of glass breaking is telling enough. Then, a door slamms somewhere, and the house falls into heavy silence.

You can't think. Can't allow yourself to fall apart more than you've had already. So, you focus on the sound of your own breathing, interlinked with your heartbeat. Steady, alive. Your eyelids are heavy, eyes burn with drying tears, so you close them and sigh. Exhaustion pinns you in place, sinking you into the blankets. Darkness welcomes you like a long lost friend.

Your boys will find a way, they always do. And Lucifer can't find you, not with the wards Castiel has put on you. You'll have to thank him i the morning, you think, and it's the last conscious thought you have, before slipping into sleep, shivering like an abandoned child.

#my writing #supernatural #lucifer x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn lucifer #spn #spn x reader #spn lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer x reader #there will be three more parts so treat this an introduction #and there will be smut in the future #also some dark themes but yall know me i can't write anything else #anyways someone talk to me about season 5 or ill explode

258 notes · View notes

wishful-thinking64 · 4 months ago

Text

One Hell of an Unpopular Opinion #04

The reason behind the Exterminations should've stayed to prevent Sinners from overpopulating the Pride Ring and I don't like how Hazbin Hotel portrays Adam as being in the wrong for hating Sinners.

_________

The whole, "We kill Sinners for our entertainment," reasoning from Adam and Lute as well as, "I approved of the Exterminations to avoid Hell's Sinners from starting an uprising," reasoning from Sera is so stupid. Specifically, Sera's reason. Because logically approving of the Exterminations would only lead to more and more Sinners wanting to start an uprising with each passing Extermination. Adam and Lute's reasoning has to be the way it is so that the show writers can make it seem like Charlie's in the right when the show gives us reason to believe that she's actively wrong. For example, Angel Dust was born in New York City and into a Mafia family likely somewhere around the years 1912 - 1915 as he's stated to have died in his young to mid 30s in the year 1947 due to a drug overdose. Angel Dust was a mobster for most if not all of his life but he hasn't shown or stated that he feels any remorse or guilt for what he did back then. The only thing he feels guilty for is for his past self having signed that contract with Valentino which is totally valid however making a soul contract with Valentino isn't the reason why he's in Hell. Angel Dust is in Hell for being a murderer, a drug trafficker, a drug attic, a smuggler, and for likely having committed several other money related crimes. I swear, people hear or see the word Mafia and automatically think of death when the majority of their crimes are motivated by currency. Like, its still not good but its not just senseless murder either. The point is, we haven't seen anything about Angel Dust truly wanting to change. Yeah, there was that scene in episode #06 where Angel turns down Cherri's offer to do drugs but that doesn't suddenly mean he's no longer a drug attic for turning down ONE offer. Most of the Sinners we see or know of in Hell are fucking horrendous people. Alastor was and still is a serial killing cannibal because he can. Let me repeat. He WAS and STILL IS a SERIAL KILLING CANNIBAL because he CAN! There is an entire place in the Pride Ring known as the Cannibal Colony (in the show it got changed to Cannibal Town but I've been calling it Cannibal Colony for 4 years now and I do not plan on stopping), Martha's in Hell which makes sense considering she and her entire family were actual Devil worshipers, Loopty and Lipton experimented and killed the poor, and Valentino is a rapist. We still don't know enough about most of what the HH's cast did when they were alive which is why I think Sir Pentious ultimately getting into Heaven was a load of BS. We don't even know why he ended up in Hell in the first place but he tries to help his "friends" once and dies in the process and that's enough to get him redeemed???

Seriously, what did he do to deserve damnation? Also, I know Viv probably doesn't have Cain or Able as that would give Adam an understandable, even justifiable, reason for despising Sinners. His first and oldest son, Cain, is LITERALLY the FIRST SINNER. For what? For killing his younger brother, Able, by slicing his throat with a knife or sharp object in the same manner Able did when sacrificing his lambs. Although, I've also heard that Cain killed Able by bludgeoning him to death with a stone by repeatedly bashing it into Able's skull. Either way, if anyone deserves to hate Sinners the MOST then it's Adam & Eve without a doubt.

#vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel critical #hellaverse critical #anti charlie morningstar #hellaverse criticism #anti vivziepop

77 notes · View notes

teamfortraven · 8 months ago

Text

Caine flusters you to death idk

^ The exact file name on my computer, by the way.

This is an SFW tickle fic! Don't read if you don't like it. Also shout out to the three different references to the TADC fan song "No Exit" that I put in here :]

2,571 words.

I paced angrily out of the main room in the tent, hands curled into fists at my sides as I left my fellow circus members behind. There were no words that could describe how frustrated I was, how confused, and, though I’d never admit it, how scared. My eye twitched at the familiar sound of a long coat flapping behind me.

“Leave me alone, Caine”, I snapped, continuing towards my room. The floating ring master was not so easily deterred and continued after me, however, keeping up with no effort.

“Come on, (Y/N), it was just one time! I know you don’t like the dark, but-“

“Correction.” I spun on my heels to face him, becoming even more annoyed with the way he loomed above me in superiority. “I hate the dark. There is nothing I hate more than the dark. And what did you do?” I crossed my arms and looked at him expectantly. He blinked as he stared at me, a few seconds passing, as if he had to process that I was actually demanding an answer from him.

“It was an adventure for everyone!” He immediately defended himself, still in that jovial tone he used to announce everything. “Not everyone is going to agree on what type of adventure they want to go on-“

“Anything! Anything else!” I threw my hands up in exasperation as he looked shocked that I had cut him off. “Anything but a power outage! I can’t even begin to tell you how horrifying that entire experience was!” I made drastic hand motions at him as I rambled angrily, his hands falling to his sides limply as if he was at a loss for words. “These adventures are supposed to be fun and distracting, Caine! You failed.” I pointed a finger at him accusingly, hoping to really drive the point home.

He gasped in exaggeration, putting a hand to his chest. “I… failed?” His eyes glanced around rapidly, his thoughts clearly racing. I nodded in affirmation; there wasn’t much I could do to show him how serious I was, but hurting his ego definitely helped me feel better.

“Yep, you failed — you had one job, Caine, and you couldn’t even do that right.” I began turning, throwing him a look over my shoulder as he continued to spiral. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be in my room until I feel better.” I paused, giving him one last angry glare. “Which will probably be a very long time.” He locked eyes with me one more time before I turned and opened my door a few feet down the hall, making sure to slam it.

I sighed and fell backwards onto my bed once I had locked it, eyes squeezing shut. I hardly ever liked Caine’s adventures… some of the others seemed to genuinely enjoy them, but I did not. All they were to me were distractions; they were definitely something I appreciated and subconsciously looked forward to, given their quality of keeping our brains from actively melting into goop, but they were never fun for me, especially this time around. Running around in the dark for god knows how long trying to find a generator sounded like something straight out of a horror game, and he thought that would be fun?

“Stupid dentist model”, I muttered, eyes slowly opening.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” I gasped and sat up in shock as I was met with his multicolored irises; he was floating right above me, and a little too close for comfort, at that.

“Caine, what the hell are you doing in here?” I demanded, slowly calming down from the unwelcome surprise. “I wanted to be alone, if I hadn’t made that clear!”

“Well…” He floated back a few feet, twiddling with his thumbs as he glanced away. He almost looked… nervous? “I felt bad for how I made you feel with the last adventure, so…” He looked back up at me, arms folding behind his back. “I figured I would come and fix the problem!”

“What…?” I paused, eyes narrowing at him. “Fix how?”

“By comforting you, of course!” He floated a little closer, his confidence seeming to return. I watched him nervously; ‘comfort’ could be practically anything in his book.

“You’re avoiding my question”, I said quickly, my eyes never leaving him as I withdrew my arms close to my chest. “What are you planning on doing?”

I merely blinked at him as he halted right where he was and put his arms out invitingly… oh.

“A… hug?” I scoffed without thinking about it, trying to collect my words as he looked taken aback by my reaction. “Look, Caine, I uhh, really appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. In fact, umm, I already am fine!” I forced a smile, eyebrows furrowed together regardless. I felt myself begin to sweat as he glanced me over; it was nerve-wracking knowing he was analyzing every single part of my body language.

“It would appear you’re lying, my dear; no need! I can surely have you feeling better in no time!” I sighed in defeat as he put his arms back out completely, nodding at me. It looked like he wasn’t going away until he was sure he had fixed what he had done. In all honesty, I had already forgiven him; he was strangely charming in his own goofy little way. I really couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Plus, I guess I wouldn’t mind a hug…

“Alright”, I finally muttered, putting my arms out in turn.

I squeaked in surprise as he suddenly picked me up, squeezing me and subsequently cradling me in his lap. I hesitantly looked up at him; sometimes I wished he blinked. I slowly wrapped my arms around him, hugging him back. It was… nice. But after only a brief moment, he pulled back, still keeping me in his arms, studying me.

“What are you doing?” I was more confused than anything, but the sentence still began with a stutter, which again appeared to ring alarm bells in his head.

“Hugging does not appear to be enough, so I’m just testing something to see if this method is an option”, he said blatantly. I jumped as he suddenly poked me in the side; I immediately covered the area on reflex, my other hand grasping his wrist. I realized my mistake too late as I looked up and saw him appear to smile.

“Ah! Perfect! Then I should have no trouble cheering you up at all!”

“Wait!” I said in panic as he suddenly positioned his hand in a clawing motion just above my stomach, struggling to get out of his grip as he held me against him.

“You’re confusing me a bit”, he said, cocking his head to the side. “You ask for me to stop, and yet you’re still smiling. Having some mixed emotions?”

I realized I was, in fact, smiling, which was apprehensive to the idea of what he was planning on doing, and also just from nervousness.

“I’m just… I…” I struggled to find words, too flustered to outright say anything.

“You’re just… what?” He paused before he started slowly wiggling his fingers just above me, to my horror. “Maybe this will help you speak your mind?”

“Wait, no, I just-“ I shrieked as he tapped my stomach a few times, hands flying to grasp his wrist once again. “I’m just embarrassed! This is just really embarrassing, okay?” I rushed the words as he showed no signs of stopping, holding back nervous giggles.

“You do appear to be embarrassed, yet also conflicted. Going to push my hand away or just stay posed like that?” He stared at me expectantly, his hand frozen against me. I glanced around, fingers twitching against his arm as I struggled to accept that that was true. It had been a very, very long time since anyone had ever given me affection like this before. What was worse, that didn’t even account for the affection I probably lacked before I joined the circus. Given how easily flustered I was, it was obvious this was all foreign to me. I forced myself to look him in the eyes, only curling in on myself even more as I could tell the bastard was still reading me like a book.

“I…” I swallowed nervously. “I just… I’ve never had…” I found myself unable to look at him, or even continue speaking. There was something buried that felt dangerously close to the surface that I just couldn’t remember – something painful. My smile left my face.

“Oh, sweetheart…” My eyes widened at the sudden nickname, head swiveling to look at him.

“You don’t have to admit it!” I hid my face in my hands as he began slowly dragging a single finger across the front of my body in lazy patterns. “It’s obvious this is a… sensitive subject for you.” I could’ve screamed when he made that stupid pun, only leaning further into him in an attempt to hide.

“If you tell anyone…” I started, muffled by my hands. I shrieked as he suddenly squeezed my side, interrupting me.

“Tell anyone what, my little possession?” The mocking tone of his voice took me by surprise.

“Tell anyone that I… e-enough with the nicknames!” I squeaked, kicking my legs in reflex as he traced across my ribs.

“Tell anyone that you like being tickled?” He said the word with such ease that I gasped, staring at him. He looked down at me for a moment and I could see the gears in his head turning as he read my expression. Then, appearing to smirk (as much as giant teeth can), he snapped his fingers.

“Oh! Embarrassed by the word, hmm?” I rapidly shook my head, to which he only continued to stare, obviously not buying it. “So you are!” He sounded delighted, and I groaned, hiding my face again.

“So don’t say it!” I muttered, my voice sharper than I meant for it to be. I became incredibly suspicious as he went silent, so I looked up at him again. That same blank gaze was returned to me, unmoving.

“Tickle.”

I blinked in surprise before I attempted to sternly tell him off. “H-Hey! What did I just-“

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I screeched as he suddenly dug his fingers into my ribs, his other hand that was supporting me scratching under my arm. I struggled to pry his hands from my body, finding that he wouldn’t move at all. I quickly fell into helpless laughter, legs kicking.

“C-Caihaine stahap!”

“Stop what?” He said nonchalantly, feigning ignorance.

“You know exAHACTLY WHAHAT-“ I nearly shrieked as he pinched between my side and hip, squirming in his lap.

“Oh! Is this a bad spot?” I nearly fell into hysterics as he repeated the action as fast as possible.

“Just not- NOT THEHERE-“ I struggled to finish a single sentence, especially when he started rapidly switching places, a loose yet determined grip on me to prevent me from moving very much.

“Where’s this loud voice when you’re performing, my little superstar?” If I could’ve cursed him out for the snide comments he continuously made, I would have.

“Quit it!” I struggled to annunciate through a stream of giggles and my flustered complexion, his hand trailing down to my stomach, drawing more bubbly noises from me.

“Oh, you circus members are always SO delightfully predictable”, he mused, his hand jumping around to a few different spots, gauging my reactions with robotic precision. “Always leaving your weak spots open!”

“Y-You’re so bahackhanded!” I squeaked before finding myself thrashing in his grip and practically snorting.

“Hmmm, I have to disagree there. I’m much more front handed when it comes to playing with my performers! Are you seeing my point of view here?” He suddenly stopped only to wiggle his fingers in front of my face, eliciting nervous giggles as I sank even further into his lap in a subconscious attempt to keep them away.

“No response? Well, at least I know how to make you smile, right?” He moved to squeeze both of my sides at once before spidering; I somehow seemed even more trapped now than I was before, so I opted instead to cover my heated face rather than attempt to escape.

“Careful not to blush too hard… your facial polygons are getting artifacts, dear.”

“Ahand whose fault is thahat?!” I exclaimed, squealing as his hands began traveling up and down, definitely feeling the artifacts forming now if I hadn’t before.

“I’m only cheering you up! You’re the one that chose to be this sensitive…”

“IT WASN’T A CHOICE!” I protested through laughter. It was more than embarrassing to know this AI was managing to tease me into oblivion, able to manipulate my reactions like a puppet on a string. Worst of all, he was cheering me up, and pretty soon I would have to genuinely ask for it to end before he got suspicious-

“So, having second thoughts? Is this method working? Five star review?” He continued reciting practical nonsense, his fingers not missing a beat on wiggling into any hyper-sensitive areas they could find.

I realized it was pointless trying to cover it up; he already knew I was enjoying it. I’d just be prolonging the amount of sarcastic questioning I’d experience, which he’d then accuse me of also liking. I struggled to think of words, any words, while he practically played me like an instrument.

“Okay, OKAYHAY! IT WOHORKED ALRIGHT? NOW STAHAP!” I was surprised when he did finally pause, drawing me just a bit closer, those grotesque eyes within his jaws studying me briefly before he scooped me up, setting me back on the bed and then zooming into the air in front of me.

“I’m just messing with you! Of course it worked! That method has yet to fail me!” I wondered how many other performers he had done this to when he accidentally upset them…

While I was lost in thought, he floated closer, and I came back to attention to find him staring inches from my face. I drew back a bit in surprise before he spoke.

“Still embarrassed by it? Don’t be!” He punctuated his exclamation with a fancy spin. “Just don’t think about the fact that I could hold this above your head forever and there’s nothing you can do about it – it’s that simple!”

I groaned and set my flustered face in my hands… At least the artifacts that formed seemed to have mended themselves. “Right, Caine, that simple…”

I felt a hand gingerly set on my shoulder and looked back up.

“That… was a joke. I won’t tell anyone, ringmaster’s promise!” He nodded to himself and I smiled slightly.

“...Thank you.”

“Anyways, now that you’re a blushy mess rather than a depressed one, I’ll be on my way! You know where to find me!” He glanced about a dozen different ways, which was concerning but not unexpected, before poofing out of my room with a small eruption of cartoonish smoke.

I laughed a bit to myself after he left, contemplating the whole experience. While he struggled to understand things that were inherently human, it was obvious that he was trying… and, at the very least, I wouldn’t complain if he tried cheering me up that way again. Just as long as the last adventure never repeated itself…

#sorry if the dialogue flows a bit unaturally btw #im autistic and often nonverbal because i just never know what to say #i can do descriptions i just struggle with talking :']#also IN TIME FOR THE EP DROP TODAY BAYBEEEE #tickles #sfw tickling community #the amazing digital circus caine #tadc caine #NEW TV MAN CONTENT SOON BTW im still VERY hyperfixated #just had this sitting as a draft for months now so

134 notes · View notes

forsworned · 6 months ago

Text

Crush ft. BlueCollar!Logan Walker

Synopsis: Heavily inspired by the song, Crush by Ethel Cain. Logan is a blue-collar welder employed at his father's metalwork shop located in the downtown area. Reader, who is an artist, experiences frustration with her metal sculpture that is to be showcased later in the month and desperately seeks the help of a professional.

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Not all the lyrics are depicted in the story, BlueCollar!Logan x Artist!Reader, Mentions of Violence, Guns, Drug Trafficking, and Sexual Content, Logan is a Retired Marine

Author's note: Getting way too invested in Logan lately no thanks to @keegansshark , da realesttttttt

His window's already passed, so he's shooting at the glass Keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it Like it's actually important, but he lied 'cause I sure did watch him Showing up wearing black, and he knows that

Sharp, acrid, chemical-like fumes dizzy your mind as you step out of your garage and lift up the cover of your welding helmet to wipe the sweat off your brow. Smoke and dust collect in the air from the galvanized stainless steel that you had been working with for the past two hours and you're realizing that maybe you bit off more than you could chew. Your DIY metal sculpture has not been going as well as you had thought and you're starting to reconsider that taking a trip downtown to recruit some help from your local metalwork shop might be your best bet. It's a straight shot, seven minutes away from your neighborhood, but you really do not want to admit defeat.

You sighed as you card your fingers through your hair and grab your keys, stuffing the fucked up metalwork into the passenger seat and hit the pedal to the metal.

The bell rings as you push open the door and the metallic, pungent smell of multiple fumes clogs your nose. To your right, a man is stuffing his light-wash denim Levi jacket into a blue-rusted locker. His hair is a sandy blonde color cropped down into a grown-out buzz, and his taut arms are littered with tattoos. His black tee is tucked into his jeans and he adjusts his holster to reveal the handgun that's stowed away under his leather belt.

He turns to you and his eyes widen, brows raised as he quickly shuts the door to his locker, but you have already caught a glimpse of the guns that littered the small space. And as alarming as it may have been, you were only fixated on how pretty his hazel eyes were.

"Can I help you?" He treads to the desk that sits right in the middle of the small lobby area, and you suck in a small inhale before approaching him.

The metal sculpture you have been working on clatters on the wooden counter.

"Need some tips and tricks for this piece that I'm doing for an art show later this month, would you be able to service me in that?"

He raises a brow at you. "I don't typically take freelance commissions."

You huff. "Please? I'm desperate."

His eyes flicker to you, giving you a once over and a small smile adorns his face.

"Alright."

His daddy's on death row, but he'll say it with his chest, though His friends move dope, he hasn't tried coke But he's always had a problem saying no His older brother bagged the valedictorian His mother, steady, screaming he should be more like him

A shiver runs up your spinal column when a chilly gust sweeps into the open garage. For May, it's certainly a bit too chilly. But you ignore it as you study how he perfects the fissure you attempted to weld over earlier. A small puff of air leaves your chest and Logan sets down the welder and glances over at you.

You cross your arms. "What?"

He stifles a laugh, scratching the stubble on his cheek with his soot-covered fingers. "You're huffin' and puffin' over there."

"No, I'm not." You mimp at him.

He snickers at your pursued lips. "You are."

In the short time that he has gotten the pleasure to know you, he realizes how short of a fuse you have when it comes to your own artwork. The meticulousness of your piece and how high-strung you become when you can't implement the same technique as him because, duh, he's a professional welder with years of experience under his belt. But regardless, you're throwing your little tantrums and don't think he doesn't notice it. The little finger taps on the metal table whenever your penetration isn't properly bonded, or the eye rolls when he fixes the undercuts you created. It's cute and admirable how passionate you are about your craft and honestly, it really turns him on. Especially when you spend hours perfecting your fusions, even staying after closing time.

But then it's after midnight, and Logan forgets that his friends transport their red tops through the facility in the later hours to pick them up in the morning. You always knew the shop was a little sketchy, so drug trafficking and money laundering had definitely crossed your mind at some point. And yet, you're silent and minding your own at the company that huddles in the large expanse of the garage. A wink is sent your way from the gentleman with pretty wintry hues and you give him a meek smile. You only recognize his older brother Hesh who gives you a good-natured grin while he carries a duffle bag with money sticking out the corners of the zipper.

"Dude, you said nobody would be here." Hesh chides in a low voice.

"My bad." Logan's tone is blase and the sound of Hesh's tongue clicking echoes.

Logan leans against the wall, pushing a cigarette between his lips before he lights it. "She maintains focus on her own assigned tasks."

You narrow your eyes at the statement, sensing that, strangely, it carries enough weight to influence the intimidating group of men. There's an awkward silence until his older brother clears his throat and the palpable tension in the room dissipates.

You continue to make yourself busy, manipulating metal sheets into flower petals. Hesh does a once over at you before he pushes past his younger brother and toward the back, but he can't stop himself from leaving him with a snide remark:

"Make sure it stays that way."

Can you read my mind? I've been watching you (You know it, you know it, you know it's true) Couldn't fight to save your life, but you look so cool Camo' jacket, robbing corner stores Hard odds to beat when you're on all fours Good men die too, oh, I'd rather be with you, you, you

Fortunately for you, you were good on your unspoken rule of minding your business. So much so that you were beginning to befriend their little clique. But they're lingering a little too long around your liking, distracting you when you really should be getting toward the final pieces of your sculpture.

It's hard when they're flexing your taut muscles while showing you their tatted arms and fresh ink under their Saniderm patches.

"What is it?" You cock an amused brow at Keegan.

He gives you a wolfish grin. "A pansy."

You chuckle. "Cause you're a fuckin' pansy?"

He joins in on your laughter. "Hell yeah."

You don't really like prying so you laugh it off knowing there is some deeper meaning behind it. The sound of Logan's throat clears and an icy glare is shot toward the retired Sergeant's way to which he only rolls his wintry hues and pokes your side on his way out. You jolt at his playful gesture and swipe at him, narrowly missing by a few millimeters, as he jogs towards the break room.

Logan leans against the welded steel workbench, sucking on a blue raspberry ice pop as he ogles you. "Should be workin' on your piece 'stead of flirting."

You snort, as you position the sheet metal on your sculpture but it slips out of your nimble fingers and clatters loudly on the ground. A vulgarity leaves your lips as you fumble around to get it, but Logan is quick to pick it up and perfectly welds it on the shoulder of the sculpture.

And for once you're kind of relieved that he's intervened. You quietly inhale, leaning against the workbench as you observe how he sets down the welding tool on the table. A primal sense of jealousy and possessiveness seeps into him as he glances over at you with darkened eyes.

"Your deadline's comin' up."

"I know." You mutter, eyelashes batting up at him with desire.

You notice how his camo compression shirt hugs his physique and you feel the sweat begin to form at the nape of your neck. His eyes glance over at your lips and they involuntarily quiver. The tension is unbearable--palpable even.

He moves closer to you, closing the gap between your forms as he reaches out his calloused hand to gently grasp at your neck. Your breaths mingle against one another while they inch closer, brushing the pillowy flesh of your lips before he devours you. His lips hotly slot against yours and it's dizzying the way he kisses you so feverishly. You waste no time kissing him back as he clears the workbench and lifts your form to sit atop it. The cold steel presses against your bare thighs, but the warmth of his soot-covered hands creates a pleasant contrast as they glide over the flesh of your spine. His other hand threads through your hair and tugs it just right, eliciting a moan as your tongues collide.

Your hand moves to his chest before gently pushing him away, your lips only connected by a string of saliva and your breaths draw ragged. A smirk adorns your dulcet features as you move back to the welding table, and Logan feels captivated by the person he's starting to see.

"Gotta get back to my work."

I owe you a black eye and two kisses Tell me when you wanna come and get 'em I only want him if he says it first to me I wanna, uh, him in the back of his mom's Mercury He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro Reds

Logan has been missing for some days since that night. Hesh on the other hand has been more than happy to fill in the void that his younger brother has left.

"He's been on a business trip." Hesh nudges you as he helps you remove the slag on your sculpture to reveal the clean beading underneath. You perk up at his voice.

"Who?" Although, the both of you know exactly 'who' he was referring to.

Hesh chuckles as he wipes his blackened hands and sets the microfiber towel down to sit on the wooden stool across from you. His emerald eyes are glimmering in the sunlight that reflects from the garage windows. One thing about the Walker brothers is that they shared that coquettish, boyish charm that you couldn't resist. It is brimming with mischief and playfulness with a roughness around the edges.

He glances at his watch. "In about an hour or so."

Your heart drops to your stomach and you feel a yearning pain for his enigmatic presence that is always luring you in for more. Your fingers absentmindedly brush at your lips and the retired Lieutenant narrows his eyes at you.

You're quick to notice that Hesh picks up on your subtle gesture and you swiftly excuse yourself. But he can only snicker to himself when he sees how you hurry off to the courtyard just outside the garage. Your brain inattentively searches for the scent of Marlboro red's. It's a distinct smell; strong and robust in comparison to the menthol's that the other smoke. And you don't know if it's your imagination, but it wafts into your senses. Unthinkingly, you follow it and your eyes ream at the unexpected arrival of the inscrutable man who cooly, draws smoke from his lips, and it unfurls into the air before it evaporates.

His intense hazel eyes never leave yours and you're caught up in them. They're dark, alluring, and spellbinding in the shade of the canopy of the courtyard. He sports medium-wash denim jeans adorned with distressed patches at the pockets and thighs, secured by a simple black belt, with his slate grey tee neatly tucked in. The fabric of the sleeves tightens around the muscle of his taut biceps and you have to thickly swallow to conjure up some strength. Strength to not throw yourself on him and jump his bones.

"Thought you'd be here in an hour or so." You murmur, slowly striding toward him. He takes another drag before offering it to you. You smooth over the lipgloss that lacquers your lips before you pluck the cigarette out of his fingers and slowly inhale. When it leaves your mouth, the creases of your lips brand the cigarette paper and he licks his cracked lips as you hand it back to him. He doesn't waste any time wrapping his mouth over your strawberry-flavored lipgloss, remembering how you tasted the last time your lips touched.

"Wrapped up early." He replies, with the cigarette fixed between his lips. He turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why? Did you miss me?"

It makes me so, uh, and I can't get enough of it Something's been feeling weird lately There's just something about you, baby (there's just something about you, baby) Maybe I'll just be crazy (I'll be crazy) And piss him off 'til he hates me Low slung bad bitch, baby, come and get you some

And in the blink of an eye, it's the showcasing of your art exhibit and you tell yourself not to get your hopes up. That Logan isn't exactly the most predictable of humans, but Hesh assures you they'll all be there. In fact, they're thrilled to have an excuse to wear a suit and attend an event where they can showcase their metalworking skills and be recognized for their talent.

"He'll be here." Keegan pulls you out of your stupor. He's peering over the rim of his champagne glass at your trepidatious expression and how your eyes dart across the room looking for him; overgrown blonde buzzcut and the heavy aroma of iron oxide, tobacco, and his father's passed down Jean Paul Gaultier. You can't quite imagine him in a suit either, but you aren't disappointed at how well the retired Marines turned blue-collar workers clean up. Clean-shaven with a few dabs of aftershave, dressed in crisp navy suits, and wearing their finest tap dancing shoes, they were set for the night.

They don't even look out of place either, and yet you did. In a crowd full of people who adored your art, and every second of your night being spent talking to art collectors, admirers, and socialites--you were utterly alone. And you knew that you shouldn't rely on a man to fill that void, nevertheless, here you were, doing just that.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom." You mutter and down the rest of your champagne before heading off. The sound of Keegan's phone ringing is faint, but it manages to catch your attention. You lean against the wall for a moment in hopes of capturing who he was speaking to. In hopes of it being...

"Logan! Where the fuck are ya, kid?"

And your heart drops to your stomach. You felt like you already had your answer. Something about a shipment taking too long to process with their wholesale dealer and that was something you didn't want to stick around to hear. You had some hope that this time would be different. That maybe he would push aside whatever shady business he had going aside for you, but you were a fool to think that he would change for you.

The rest of the evening drags by. You're no longer glancing at your watch or rummaging through the room for him. The little words of encouragement and smiles from his friends and brother had become mere background noise to you by now. Time is like a hazy blur of conversations about your artwork, countless glasses of Armand de Brignac, and mindless gossiping about gallery politics and exhibit guests.

And soon enough it's past midnight and your social battery is running low. Your guests have long left the premises, but thankfully your welding companions stay behind to help you pack up your remaining props and pieces into their truck that could probably fit ten bodies in the trunk alone.

You let out a sharp exhale as you observe Merrick scolding Hesh and Kick for not preparing the cargo net. Sometimes it was talking to a small herd of teenage boys, nonetheless, you were grateful for their help.

The final pieces remaining in the exhibit were delicate and, moreover, the ones Logan had been most involved with. When you headed back inside to load them into your car, you immediately felt a pit in your stomach as soon as you entered the gallery.

There he stood, with a mussed-up, overgrown buzz, and unkempt facial hair, clad in soot-covered work trousers and a white tee stained with what appeared to be dried blood, admiring the work you both had collaborated on.

"Man, she's a real beauty—really outdone yourself, [name]."

He turns to you and you feel yourself crumble. You tremble with anger, and his face softens as he takes in your expression. He knows he fucked up big time. The worst part about it is that he looks unbelievably sexy, but your rage is bubbling within you as you take another stride toward him.

He's careful with how he approaches. Careful to not make any sudden movements as if you would pounce on him and tear him limb from limb.

"I'm sorry..." He breathes out, observing the way you slowly circle him.

"Oh, you're sorry?" You hissed.

He swallows thickly, feeling a shudder travel up his spinal column. "There was a hold up..."

He clenches and unclenches his fist reflecting on said "hold up" that caused him to be so tardy. It's not like he didn't know how important this was to you, but he also wasn't obligated to show up in the way you were expecting him to.

You stop in your tracks and pinch the bridge of your nose. It's hard to stay mad at someone whose tongue was shoved down your throat just a few days ago.

Logan is debating whether his presence is even worthy of being around you, but he reaches out to hold your wrist anyway.

"Get off of me." You tug your wrist away, but he has a firm grip on you.

"Let me make it up to you." His hazel half-lidded gaze holds yours and your anger begins to melt away.

"How?"

His hands suddenly find themselves around your waist and you yelp as he lifts you, setting you on the bar. Your little black dress rides up your thighs and pulls them apart only to find that not only are you not wearing underwear, but your pussy is glistening in the dim exhibit lighting. He gives you one final glance as if to ask for permission, but you're already tangling your fingers into his dirty blonde hair.

He doesn't even waste any time devouring your sopping, wet pussy. One long stripe and then he's losing himself in your saccharine taste that he cannot get enough of. He had no idea how he withheld himself from such a heavenly taste and those sweet, milky moans.

All those long nights they spent working together in the shop he had to hold himself back from slipping down your shorts, bending you over the workbench, and taking right then and there. It all amounted to this moment—his tongue deep in your cunt and you were lost in the euphoria he was bringing you. The notion of the others walking in on you is tossed away to the backlogs of your mind.

His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, holding your writhing body still as he sucks on your pillow clit. You tremble against him feeling yourself nearing the edge, but he's torturing you. Withdrawing his tongue from the sensitive nub, kissing around your inner thighs, but you're not having any of it.

Your fingers pull at his hair and lead his tongue back to where you want it, bucking your hips against his mouth. His hazel hues flicker up to you and he's smirking at your domineering energy. You're taking charge as you grind your pussy against his tongue and lolling your head to the side as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"Fuuuck, 'm gonna..." You moan out in pure ecstasy as your eyes drift to the back of your head and your back arches away from the counter.

And he's definitely not stopping his efforts in bringing you there. In fact, he's probing his fingers between your velvety folds and curling his fingers to that sweet spot that drives you to your climax.

"Logan...!" You whimper out as you ride your high and he drowns in your soddened pussy. "Oh fuck..." You breathe out as it dissipates slowly but surely. He licks one last stripe to your shimmering folds as he withdraws his fingers, observing the way your arousal clings to his fingers and lapping them up.

"I have no fuckin' clue how I held back for so long." He cups your cheek, lips lacquered with your cum, and you hotly slot your lips against his in a feverish kiss. Being pressed up against him in the building where you hosted your long-awaited art exhibit feels like one of your reoccuring wet dreams.

Your hands fly to his belt to unbuckle, but the sound of footsteps grasp your attention and your caught redhanded, but his cheeky older brother, Hesh.

"Oh—" He grins at your tangled bodies against the bar. "as much as I hate to break up you two lover birds, security is rounding us up to see us off.”

You feel the embarrassment creeping up on your flushed cheeks. “R-right.” You fix your dress and Logan casually buckles his belt and helps you down from the bar as if you two weren’t going to fuck each other dumb.

As Hesh grabs the last few items and exits the area, Logan comes up from behind you and squeezes your ass as he murmurs against the shell of your ear:

“I’ll follow you back to your place?”

Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you, you, you rather be with you, oh Oh, I'd rather be with you, oh 'Cause good men die too, so I'd rather be with you

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #call of duty x reader #logan walker #logan walker x reader #walker brothers #cod x you #cod ghosts #cod smut #logan walker smut #x reader #x female reader #logan walker cod #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut #cod #writblr #writers on tumblr #cod fanfic

107 notes · View notes

jester089 · 1 year ago

Text

Hindsight's 20/20

The request was TADC characters who get into a fight with reader. When they go to reader's room to apologize they find them abstracted.

Caine

Arguments with Caine aren't rare I'm sad to say. You two are just so different, and he has trouble understanding humans. It's frustrating for you. When you storm off in the direction of your room Caine doesn't think much of it. This happens a lot after all. Deep down he knows it's his fault so he's always the one to apologize. After giving you some time he visits your room with some of your favorite (digital) food. He knocks and receives no answer. Being the AI with no sense of personal space that he is, he knocks one more time then just let himself in. He notices that the room is strangely empty. "Could've sworn they went to their room." He shrugs the slight feeling of unease and sets the food down on your desk leaving a little note with "I'm sorry. Enjoy your food! :)" He smiles and turns to leave and freezes when he spots you on the wall above the door. You abstracted?! You two just stare at each other for who knows how long neither of you moving. Eventually Caine raises a hand to open the cellar but at at the smallest sight of movement you pounce at him. It doesn't work as intended though when he moves out of the way and the cellar open where your going to land. Once you're locked away it sinks in that, that was you. In some sense at least. He takes a moment of silence out of respect, then empties out your room and puts an x over your doors picture. He doesn't really have emotions and isn't human so he doesn't get caught up. He did love you though, in a way.

Gangle

Gangle felt awful watching you storm off like that. She had an especially rough day and ended up being rude to you. That led to an argument, and that led to her accidentally bringing up something she knew you were really sensitive about. She stuck around in that room feeling bad for a while before finally leaving and deciding to try and apologize. Even if you don't forgive her she still has to try. So she ran to her room and grabbed a box from under her bed. She opens it to reveal the things she's been making for you for a while. It's your very own comedy and tragedy mask. It was hell making then with ribbon hands but it was worth it. She arrives at your room and rings the door bell... Nothing. She knocks a few times... Nothing... She takes out the spare key you gave her planning on just setting the masks on your bed with a note. The door opened and she came face to face with you... Well kind of you. An abstract that was clearly you. She dropped the masks and ran off to save herself and get Caine.

~~~~~

After you were contained she went back to her room feeling awful. "Was it my fault?! I made them mad. And now their gone." She gets back to the rooms hallway and spots the shards of the masks she made for you on the ground in front of your room... What used to be your room. She freezes for a moment before bends over to pick them up. Caine already got rid of everything that was yours. So these two broken and dirtied masks are the only memory she has left of you... She didn't even get to give them to you. She never got to apologize.

Zooble

Arguments with Zooble weren't rare. She is a easily annoyed person in a place that is the dead opposite of her personality, trapped in a body that she hates. She has a lot that worries/annoys her which makes her regularly snap at just about everything. She didn't always apologize too, which led to more and more pent up anger from both of you. After one especially nasty argument you both silently storm off to your rooms to calm down. After sitting in her room for a while Zooble started feeling guilty. You were trying to comfort her after a long day and she got mad at you. So she slowly gets up and quietly walks over to your room, she rings the doorbell and hears a thump against the door. Usually when your in bed and don't wanna get up you throw something at the door, it's a way to tell her to come in. She opens the door and is startled by a four legged abstract sprinting out past her at like 200mph.

~~~~~

After the abstract is in the cellar and the shock and adrenalin has worn off she realizes it was you. And she feels... Empty... "There gone... The last time I talked to them, the last time I'll ever even be able to talk to them. Was an argument..." She's going to spiral bad. The fact that she feels it was her fault. And she doesn't have you there to get her through hard times. I give her a month left. At most.

Kinger

Arguments with Kinger are rare. He's already lost one S/O in this place, he isn't going to lose another. Or at the very least he's going to make the absolute most of the time you two have together. So you two having a full on scream sesh at each other was a surprise to everyone. Who knows what ticked off who and started it. All they know is you two were yelling at each other louder then you ever had. Then you basically ran out of the pillow fort with a guilty looking Kinger watching you go. He had planned on letting you be alone then you would come to him when your ready. But it's been over a week and no ones seen you. He's starting to get worried. So he stops by your room to check on you. When he opens the door and sees the black spikey and glitchy skin and the multicolored eyes he realizes instantly. He doesn't run. He doesn't fight back. He just stands there, staring at what was once you. This goes one of two ways, you tear him apart and he abstracts too. Or he's left alone and is just a lifeless husk until he abstracts.

Ragatha

Arguments with Ragatha are also rare. And ones that go past a few hurtful words and a slightly raised voice are even more rare. She's good at defusing things. So the chance of an argument getting really heated is unlikely. Unlikely but not impossible. Tensions in the circus are high, and no ones immune to it. It started with you comforting her about how homesick she feels. She was ranting about her old life and ended up coming across like she would without a second thought throw you out to get away from this place. That started the snowball, one thing led to another, then Ragatha found herself sitting on her bed staring at the ajar door that you ran out of moments ago. She's the most likely to catch you while you're actually abstracting. She just hates leaving things in a bad place and would chase you to your room. She couldn't save you though, despite how hard she tried. She tried so hard and ended up getting really hurt, she was found on the brink of death after not letting you go despite you being fully abstracted. She gets out of all that alive. You? Not so much... This whole thing made her into a very "others come first" and "I don't matter" kind of person. She hurt you and you're gone now because of that. She isn't going to let that happen again.

Jax

Jax goes out of his way to cause arguments and problems for everyone. He cares about you in some way, but that doesn't mean you're sparred by him. Seeing you run off after he made you mad he didn't even react. He just went on with his day. It was actually funny to him how worked up you got. Around two days later he basically kicks down the door to your room wanting something from you. He freezes for a moment upon seeing your abstracted form before running off. Once he's safe he thinks to himself "They abstracted?! Over that argument?! I knew they were a crybaby but it's surprising. Eh. Not my problem." He casually walks off purposefully ignoring the scream he heard.

Pomni

Pomni can get really tunnel visioned with things. She'll get so caught up in a worry or a project and forget everything else exists for a while. This can lead to her being a slightly neglectful partner. The circus puts a lot of strain on her. For one reason or another you two start yelling at each other. Once it's all said and done and you two are separate she'll take a while avoiding you all together. The argument left her shaken so she doesn't want to see you. But after enough insistence from Ragatha who was worried about you she stops by your room to check on you. She stands in front of your door for a half hour shaking not wanting to face you. But she does, eventually (She left like 4 times before hyping herself up enough to just do it.) When your abstracted form breaks through the door she just opened she panics and sprints off. Despite her mind telling her to go back because "It was in their room! Are they ok?!" But she keeps running. Only after she's at least mostly safe does it sink in that, that was you. She breaks down her mind racing. Was it her fault?! How long have you been feeling like that?! Your gone... She doesn't handle it well. And I doubt she'll recover from it at all. On the bright side she doesn't get sucked into her work and worries like before. Shame you aren't alive to experience it though.

(This was surprisingly difficult to write. I'm not sure why though. I hope you enjoyed.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #not beta'd #noob author

191 notes · View notes

megalomaniacz · 11 months ago

Text

A GIRL IS MISSING: LET THE DEAD BURY THE DEAD ❄️🧣⚰️

synopsis: someone left behind a beautiful corpse.

a/n: finally putting the mystery/thriller into this mystery/thriller fanfic wooo! if you wanna set the tone while reading: i listen to a lot of ethel cain and princess chelsea while writing this series!

masterlist

walking over to them felt like a juvenile attempt at making friends. your body clenched. sweat dripping down your neck and building at your hairline. teeth making crescents into the sides of your tongue. you appear before the three grievers and struggle between offering a smile or a handshake or both. you settle for an awkward wave. ellie is too busy comforting abby and they don’t notice you, but jesse does. he gives you a simple nod.

it’s interesting being this close to them. watching their dynamic. abby is completely torn in the way you’d imagine ellie should be. ellie is frowning but in the way you’d imagine jesse might be. jesse has the tear streaks you thought ellie would have. you take a deep breath, awaiting maria’s further instructions.

“alright and team 4,” she pauses looking over at their sad faces. “we’re going to have you guys search near the creek.”

you remember playing by that creek. using the water for mud pies and dirtying up your hands and clothes. coming home and getting lectured about it. getting asked about the stains at school. you were an explorer, an adventurer, and a creative out there. you’d hoped that time didn’t make all that wash away.

jesse drove. ellie took the passenger’s seat, fingers fiddling with a ring. a cursive letter d etched into a heart on top of it. abby sat in the back with you, her head looking outside the window. watching the life pass by.

you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to figure them out. which one was the last to see her? what did they talk about? what did she say? do any of them think she’s alive? are any of them hiding something? do they know where she is? did they kill her? are they planning on killing you now because they can tell you’re figuring them out?

“i can’t do this sober.” ellie breaks you out of your thoughts. you realize that you’ve already arrived at the creek. jesse pops open his glove box and pulls out a flask. your stomach sinks a bit, you feel guilty for being accusatory. even if it’s just in your head.

“one sip, each of us gets one,” he takes his. “but we need our heads on straight if we’re going to find her.” jesse hands it to ellie. she looks at him, a real mean piercing gaze. something crude on her tongue? she puts the flask to her lips and takes a sip, then holds her hand out back towards you.

you can’t refuse, it’d be rude. so you take it and take a sip, then you look over at abby. you’re scared to touch her. to scare her. to make her start crying again after she’s finally calmed down. it’s almost as if ellie can read your mind, she calls out abby’s name.

“what is it? oh, we’re already here? i zoned out.” she looks away from the window and you hold the flask out in front of her. jesse looks at her through his rearview mirror. “one sip. and make sure you’re wearing your gloves, you don’t need anymore bruises on your hands.”

she takes a sip. “because people get funny ideas?” she raises her eyebrows. saying it like it’s something we’re all supposed to know the answer to. like it’s a stupid question. jesse shakes his head. “no, because i care about you. but, you make a good point.”

“you’ve just been crying a lot.” ellie chimes up. “i thought you would’ve run dry yesterday, but you’re still crying.”

your eyes widen as you listen to them. attempting to decipher what all of this means. if what you were thinking earlier was true. if these would be your last moments alive, because now you certainly knew too much.

abby looks over at you. “do i cry too much? wouldn’t anyone cry this much if someone they cared about was gone?”

you open your mouth to speak but you’re interrupted. “you say that like she’s not gonna come back.” jesse grips the steering wheel.

“she didn’t fucking run away.” ellie scoffs, rolling her eyes. “cmon let’s go before we lose daylight.”

as you leave the car, you take a deep breath. the tension in that moment was rigid. suffocating. why were they arguing? is that normal? you’d never been alone with these three. you’d barely even had a conversation long enough to remember. you didn’t know these people. you didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into by volunteering. you didn’t know what was going to happen at this creek.

“if we split up, we’ll cover more ground. do you know the creek well?”

it takes a moment before you realize jesse is talking to you. you nod, and he looks at ellie. “alright ellie, you go with her. i’ll go with abby. let’s meet back here in twenty minutes. i’m serious about that too, a storm’s coming.”

“well we never would’ve known, weather man. thank you.” ellie trudges towards you, wrapping her scarf around her face. jesse rolls his eyes before walking in the opposite direction with abby. you look over at ellie before gesturing your head forwards. you start walking ahead of her hearing her boots hit the snow behind you. then she speeds up and walks next to you. sniffling.

“didn’t you think abby was being weird back there in the car?” she starts. “i mean, it seems to me like she thinks i know something. like i’m hiding something because i’m not bursting into fucking tears every three seconds but…it’s not like i’m not sad. fuck.”

you nod along, pulling a flashlight out to get a better look at the ground. at any possible fresh track marks in the snow.

“i’m angry, at myself mostly. i’m fucking…scared. i miss my girlfriend.”

she looks over at you, and you nod. you don’t say anything you just nod. you let her know she’s understood.

the crack of a tree branch is heard closer to the deeper end of the forest. closer to the frozen over creek. you look at each other once before walking towards it. stomping on in the snow while periodically wiping at your nose.

when you reach where you can guess the sound came from, you hand ellie the flashlight. “here, hold it towards the water. there could be something around here.”

she does as you ask, holding it still so you can look. in all honesty, you were losing hope and just trying to pass the minutes by. it was fucking freezing, and from what you’d learned at the after-search meetings, dina was scared of this part of the woods. she wouldn’t come through here for a million dollars, jesse’s words verbatim.

“you know the police won’t even help out? they don’t think she’s missing. maria’s the only adult in this town who gives a fuck.” ellie chimes up as you wipe some snow off of a rock. you look back towards her, cough up into the icy air, then stand. “what about your uncle? isnt he on the force.”

she looks away for a moment. even though you can’t see her frowning you can tell from the sadness in her eyes. “i don’t wanna talk about it-“

a horrific and tragic scream is heard in the distance. the scream of a young woman. you both turn your heads towards it, then each other, before running to the commotion. it takes two minutes to get through the barren woods. ellie tripped once, and you twice, before coming across jesse and abby. abby is wailing, worse than she was in the church. worse than you’d ever seen her. you can almost hear ellie’s heart stop.

“els don’t look.” jesse grabs her before she can reach the scene. she’s beating against him with her hands, cursing harsh under the scarf. “what is it jesse? tell me what is it? what the fuck is going on?” her voice cracks and tears begin to fall as she falls into him.

you walk past abby, who’s on the ground holding her stomach. she pulls her scarf off and runs behind a tree. you can hear her throwing up. throwing up and crying.

you could’ve never guessed that you’d be seeing what you were right now. not in a million years. a bloody young woman who looked like she’d been ripped in half by some heinous creature. her insides on full display for you. her skin discolored. and the smell, it was god awful. and in what you could only guess was her hands, a heart necklace with the letter e in cursive etched into the front.

the worst part was that, from what you could make out, this was not dina. dina didn’t have the tattoos these remains had. dina didn’t have green eyes. so who the hell is this, and how did she get dina’s necklace?

104 notes · View notes

queermania · 2 years ago

Note

Wait wait wait. Jensen picked the writer who gave Dean a lesbian best friend and made him a nerd to be the show runner for his little fixit fic show? This is amazing!

when you look at robbie's run of episodes (that he wrote specifically, not produced or was the executive story editor on), a very specific version of supernatural and dean starts to emerge and it is insanity-inducing. here's a very brief rundown of the episodes robbie wrote:

slash fiction -swayze always gets a pass -dean singing air supply -"it's like eating self-righteousness' -the creation and introduction of frank devereaux -"applications for sainthood" -dean letting sam go

time after time -"what are you gonna look up more anime or are you strictly into dick now?" -dean being a nerdy little fanboy about eliott ness (and checking out a dude in a uniform but that was probably jacting joices) -dean getting excited about dressing up in period clothing!! -understanding that rufus matters and that family isn't just blood -original sam is milf!bait (and he's into it) truther -actually writing grief in nuanced ways -dean is smart and resourceful actually! -your future is "covered in thick black ooze" (which i know is just a very lucky coincidence but i don't care!)

the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo -CHARLIE!!! he gave us charlie. he said "actually what if hardcore fans were cool and fun and GAY and they were dean's new best friend" -charlie/dean/security guard flirting split screen -"she's kinda like the little sister I never wanted." "how does a high-school dropout become one of the brightest minds…" -basically this entire episode is just "be gay, do crime" and i love that for me specifically

bitten -not my favorite episode but as @ilarual says "it's very fun in how it illustrates Robbie's willingness to play with form, since it's all done as found footage" -and as @doctorprofessorsong says it "has the concept of monsters aren’t always bad guys" -and apparently it contains a brokeback reference? my memory of this episode is hovering at around 1% tbh but you get it

larp and the real girl -dressing dean up in little outfits AGAIN -and he likes it!!! -and he likes being a nerd! (dean is getting into it and sam is the one who is unamused mr serious guy!!!!) -and charlie is dean's new best friend! -"belladonna" "the pornstar?" -"did you break up with someone too?" -honestly you already know all of it. this is a fan favorite for a reason. what more can i say about this episode??

goodbye stranger -yes robbie was the first writer to try to give us a destiel love confession -cas practicing killing dean over and over and over and still not being able to do it when it comes down to it -"what broke the connection?" gee i wonder -first episode writing cas and he nailed the sort of unintentional deadpan humor that makes cas so lovable ("would it kill you to watch a movie? read a book?" "a movie, no, but with a book with the proper spells—yeah, it could theoretically kill me.") -"if he's so sketchy then why are you praying to him?" -pizza man reference -"do you really think we can trust megstiel?" (we get both megstiel and jealous!dean) -dean quoting lord of the rings (because he's a nerd! and he reads!) -meg roasting the shit out of sam for the amelia stuff -etc

pac-man fever -charlie reading the carver edlund books -charlie and dean being besties/getting a montage -dean telling charlie that what happened with her parents wasn't her fault/understanding the guilt she feels -"i love you" "i know" -"what about castiel? he seems helpful, and dreamy" -again, putting dean in little outfits -charlie knows how to shoot/aim a gun

slumber party -dorothy!! -oz!!! -look, is this episode cheesy? yes. but it's fun and it's so obviously a love letter to the oz source material and i love that about robbie. he does his research and he commits

first born -cain!!!! -drowley team up!!!!! ("friends. besties, actually." im sorry but drowley means so much to me personally and this is the start of their beautiful bromance) -"this is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." "yeah, well, it's early" -cas liked pb&js!! jelly, not jam. he found jam unsettling!! -"you have a guinea pig? where?" -"you're a terrible liar?" "that is not true. i once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother." -just. sastiel shenanigans (and hugs!) -"she only asked for one thing." "to stop" -anyway. you get it.

meta fiction -dean and cas phone call smiles!! they LIKE each other -metatron media dump -"what makes a story work? is it the plot, the characters, the text? the subtext? and who gives a story meaning? is the writer? or you?" -i think it's important to note that robbie who wrote gabriel faking his own death -cas noticing something is wrong with dean pretty much instantly and then discovering the mark of cain

fan fiction -i mean. come on. -"although we do explore the nature of destiel in act two." -"you can't spell subtext without s-e-x" -sam being such a younger brother and trolling dean about "destiel" -"BM scene" -dean "you know they're brothers, right?"-ing the w*ncest stuff but just being flustered about the destiel stuff ayyyy -dean casually referencing andrew lloyd webber -"transformative fiction" -"i want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can" -dean quoting rent -the samulet is back! -"i have my version, and you have yours." -"he took away our own free will" <- about john!! -THE RETURN OF CHUCK!

there's no place like home -"i forgive you dean" "yeah well i don't" "i know, kinda your move" -"you hurt my friend" -"you lied to me" "you lied to yourself. that's kinda your move." -i mean. robbie just gets it, ya know?

book of the damned -cas being a huge bitch (love that) -sam being the excessively codependent one -cas and charlie get to meet! -found family goodness if only for a little bit!!

angel heart -ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! -"i got it at the hot topical" (and claire keeping grumpy cat) -no seriously. dean and cas went birthday present shopping together for claire and they did it at a mall -castiel feeling guilt for what he did to the novak family (and amelia recognizing that cas has changed/grown) -"you were both troubled teens. you speak her language." -"bring your daughter to work day" -"i'm saying she might be stronger on her own." which is a controversial line but i think it says something really significant about how dean feels about his childhood "in fact you're not anything to her except a constant reminder of someone that's gone." -mini golf!!!!!! dean and claire bonding!!!! -the introduction of the grigori, a class of angels which may or may not be important at some point -claire roasting the shit out of dean with "you seem pretty old" <3 -"happy birthday. don't shoot me."

baby -do i really need to explain anything about this one? -"okay first of all, never use swayze's name in vain, okay? ever." -"mistakes were made" -dean having a dream about john teaching him to drive but under normal and appropriate circumstances -werepire…. ghoulpyre… -honestly just the whole episde. you know what i'm talking about. the unique perspective. the insight into their day-to-day lives. the moments that live in between.

into the mystic -eileen! my best friend eileen! -dean x mildred otp -remembering sam's lucifer/hell trauma -the whole "follow your heart" speech -"banshees go after the vulnerable, so why'd it go after you?" -dean recognizing there's something off with cas -but really the most important thing here is EILEEN

safe house -bobby and rufus!!!! -i repeat BOBBY AND RUFUS!!!! -"were you ever nice?" "1985. worst year of my life." -robbie just really GETS that this show is more fun when it's not centered entirely on the brothers. -bobby referring to sam and dean as his boys -timey wimey shenanigans -there were some interesting implications in this episode too but i'm losing steam here so i'm gonna let you rewatch and figure it out lol

don't call me shurley -the reveal of chuck as god!!!! -bisexual chuck -dean does sam's laundry (sometimes with beer) -chuck is a shitty egotistical writer -he also plays the guitar and: "i like front row seats. you know, i figured i'd hide out in plain sight." -"i thought if i could show my sister that there was something more than just us, something better than us, then maybe she'd change. maybe she'd stop being… her. but every time I'd build a new world, she'd destroy it." -"the world would still be spinning with demon dean in it but sam couldn't have that though could he?" -"you were gonna choose amara over me."

so. yeah. jensen chose THIS GUY to helm the winchesters. bold move, sir. full respect.

also, this tweet always makes me crack up

one of us! one of us! one of us!

#replies #anonymous #robbie thompson #mp

720 notes · View notes