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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Twelve

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twelve: One Hell of a Doll

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian fight a puppet and confront a mysterious puppet master.

Ciel, Sebastian, (Y/N), and Grell ran up the tower stairs after Pluto as he disappeared into the strange building. With any luck (which wasn’t much for them), Elizabeth would be found in the tower and be saved. They finally reached a door, and Sebastian opened it.

The room held dollmaking tools and several abandoned pieces. Materials stood to the sides of the room, each labeled with “iron,” “steel,” “gold,” or other such things. The only colorful thing in the room drew everyone’s eyes. It was Elizabeth in her pink dress, sitting at the side of the room.

“Lizzy,” said Ciel in worry, moving to her. No response. He took her by the shoulders. “Lizzy!”

“It seems we’re too late,” said Grell casually.

“No…” Ciel shook Elizabeth. “Lizzy! Lizzy!”

Her eyes opened slowly. “Huh?”

“Lizzy! Thank God!” said Ciel.

“The ring…” said Elizabeth, staring at the new ring on Ciel’s finger. She smiled. “You liked it, right, Ciel?”

The gift. (Y/N)’s eyes softened slightly. The poor girl had just been trying to make up for breaking the original. “Quite the present she had for you.”

“How foolish. Why, for me…” Ciel trailed off.

Suddenly, two forces pulled Elizabeth into the air by her arms. A moment later, a large axe was thrown into her arms.

“Elizabeth!” cried Ciel.

“No!” cried Elizabeth as whatever was moving her forced her to attack Ciel and swing the axe down at him.

Sebastian grabbed Ciel and pulled him away, but Elizabeth kept coming for them.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” she cried.

“(Y/N),” said Sebastian as he held Ciel and dodged.

“Got her,” said (Y/N), moving in front and blocking the attack. Whatever force was controlling Elizabeth forced her further at (Y/N) as the demon held up the attack. “Grell, cut whatever’s controlling her movements.”

“Hm, but I could get cut with that big axe,” sighed Grell.

“Grell,” repeated (Y/N), and she glanced at the demon, sighing dramatically.

“Grell,” said Sebastian, taking the reaper’s attention. He smiled at her. “Please?”

“Are you two asking me for a favor?” cried Grell excitedly. “Well, then, perfect! When we kiss, then, it will be…with tongue!”

“When we what?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow incredulously. They were about to continue with something alone the lines of “I’ll bit your tongue off instead,” but Sebastian spoke.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, “but I can tie cherry stems with my tongue.” Oh, he definitely knew what he was talking about.

“Oh, yes!” Grell nearly flew from how much the image excited her.

“Now that’s something even I didn’t know you were capable of,” said (Y/N). Inwardly, they were having a toned-down version of Grell’s reaction. Sebastian’s tongue? If (Y/N)’s thoughts had been hard to control before…

Sebastian smirked. “Perhaps a demonstration at some point. A lesson for old time’s sake.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped to him. It was rare for a demon to be caught off guard, but having Sebastian Michaelis of all demons say something that could be flirtatious? That would do it. (Y/N) furrowed their brow and looked away again. No, that was just Sebastian being himself.

“To have a bigger weapon than I do when you’re nothing but a little girl…” Grell ran towards Elizabeth holding two pairs of scissors (What happened to her Death Scythe? wondered (Y/N)) “I can’t forgive that.”

“Stop it, Grell!” cried Ciel, worried for Elizabeth.

With two neat snips, Grell finished the job. Elizabeth crumpled to the ground, and Ciel was by her side in an instant.

(Y/N) noticed what Grell had cut and picked it up. “Puppet string,” they said.

“Only a Death Scythe’s edge could be this sharp,” said Grell proudly, brandishing her scissors. “How was it, Bassy, (Nickname)? I’m great, aren’t it? Praise me, praise me!”

“You did alright,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

Sebastian was tempted to chuckle at just how nonchalant they were, just like a cat allowing just a moment of return of affection to a passerby. However, he remained silent on that account and instead looked at Grell, “Amazing, you are most skilled with a pair of scissors, aren’t you?”

“Ah!” Grell preened at the praise of the demons. “It’s a pleasure!”

“The puppet thread leads up…” (Y/N) gazed into the rafters of the tower. The same man from the mansion stood there.

“I reasoned…” said the man slowly before waving his arms. Puppet thread snapped tight around Ciel, Sebastian, (Y/N), and Grell. “…that what I should use to make the doll this time is…”

“Well, what are you made out of?” remarked Sebastian.

“Huh?” The man considered as if that had never occurred to him. “What am I made out of?”

Sebastian smirked. “Yes. From what I can see, it does not appear to be a very strong material.”

“I reasoned that I was supposed to be human. However, lately, termites seem to be falling out of my ears,” said the man blandly.

Sebastian kicked the axe to a standing position, and (Y/N) kicked it upward. It sliced into the man, and the bindings loosened. The man teetered on the rafters.

“(Y/N),” said Sebastian, catching the axe.

He extended a hand, and (Y/N) understood. They leapt up, took the axe, and Sebastian pushes them into a high jump. They swung at the butler, and he caught it between his hands. (Y/N) grinned and thrust down harder. The man fell from the rafters (coincidentally landing on Grell). The man’s head split open to reveal hay stuffing.

“So he was a doll, too,” said Ciel, supporting Elizabeth.

“Drocell Keins,” said Grell. “His soul was seized five years ago. However, for some reason, there was a reaction to his life-force.”

“A fragment of a soul must have been used by someone,” said Sebastian darkly.

“Someone who can manipulate souls?” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Reapers collected souls, demons ate souls, and angels…Actually, who knows what they did with souls, but (Y/N) knew they were one of the only three beings able to use souls in that way.

“Ciel?” came a faint voice.

“Elizabeth,” said Ciel in relief as she opened her eyes. “Let’s go back to the mansion.”

“I want to have a birthday party for you,” said Elizabeth.

Ciel furrowed his brow for a moment before his gaze softened. “Alright. Pleae celebrate for me.

Elizabeth smiled before falling asleep from exhaustion once more.

“Just relax and rest,” said Ciel. “Everything is—”

“It’s not over yet,” said Drocell’s voice. The group watched as the strawman got shakily to his feet. “I reasoned that I must report to the Master.” He took small, faltering steps towards another door, hay falling from his head with every movement.

“What’s with him?” said Grell. “He’s trying to serve his master even when he’s all messed up like that?”

“I understand him,” said Sebastian. He smirked. “After all, I am one hell of a butler.”

“Master…” Drocell pushed open the door before collapsing, likely completely dead this time.

Ciel leaned Elizabeth carefully against a wall before heading into the new room with the rest of the group. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as they took in the sight before them. An ornate chair sat facing a window, and the arm of a figure, the Master, could be seen resting upon it. In front of the chair, Pluto sat curled up, obedient.

“Pluto!” said Ciel sharply. Pluto ignored Ciel and licked the Master’s hand. “Why is he being so friendly?”

(Y/N)’s eyes were catlike slits. The only person Pluto had ever been friendly around like that was Angela. But it wasn’t Angela near them. There was something…different about the Master.

“I do apologize,” said the Master. “My butler was so incompetent he couldn’t even offer a proper welcome.”

“So, you’re the culprit,” said Ciel. “Why are you turning young girls into dolls?”

“Flowers, eras, and people…” began the Master. “Beauty is a fleeting thing. Dollmaking is a blessed art that leaves behind the most beautiful and perfect things in this world.”

“What bad taste,” remarked Grell, and (Y/N) was inclined to agree.

“Why were you targeting me?” demanded Ciel. He pulled the gold ring off his finger. “I have no intention of becoming one of your precious dolls.” He threw it at the back of the chair in a clear declaration.

“Please limit your insolence!” said the Master.

“What?” questioned Ciel.

“My butler’s head was made of straw,” said the Master. “I cannot fathom why he wanted you. Ciel Phantomhive, you have carried the fate of death since your birth. That body of yours is already unclean.”

Ciel’s eyes widened, and he stepped backwards. “How do you know about that?” he demanded.

“I cannot forgive the fact that something like you exists in this world, unclean, unwanted, and impure,” said the Master. “Almost as filthy as one who would choose impurity. (Y/N) is the name now, correct? Still as unclean as ever, standing there having chosen to be of the filth. Being cleansed would give you a chance at purity.”

(Y/N) narrowed their eyes, which flashed fuchsia. “The Heavens failed to watch over me. The darkness gave me strength. I don’t regret a thing. Your purity means nothing to me.”

Sebastian would smirk proudly at their words, but the Master’s speech to them rubbed him the wrong way, so his eyes remained slits. He didn’t like the Master’s focus on Ciel and (Y/N). They were his, in one way or another.

“Get rid of the unclean,” said the Master, his chair shaking as his words rose in fervor. “Get rid of the unwanted and the impure! Get rid of it! Get rid of it!”

“Stop that this instant!” demanded Ciel, running around to the front of the chair. His eyes widened. It was just a scarecrow.

Sebastian, Grell, and (Y/N) joined him, narrowing their eyes. In the scarecrow’s lap, a tiny puppet stood. Grell jumped and hid behind (Y/N) and Sebastian. The tiny puppet’s mouth split open to reveal sharp teeth as it cackled maniacally. It jumped from the scarecrow’s lap and ran out of the room.

“Sebastian, catch it!” said Ciel.

“The puppeteer is not in the vicinity,” said (Y/N).

“There are unseen strings attached all around here. They are far from pleasant,” said Sebastian.

Ciel glared out the door. All he wanted was to run after the doll, but for now, the puppeteer would remain a mystery.

(Y/N) calmly washed the dishes after Ciel’s birthday party. The ring the Master had given him had appeared in the mansion, which was concerning, but there was nothing they could do at the moment, so they just continued working.

“Hello, Sebastian,” they said, sensing him in the doorway.

“(Y/N),” said Sebastian, stepping up beside them. He took the plate from their hands and put it down.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow as they looked at him. “What is it?”

“The…‘Master.’ He knew you,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N) nodded. “Apparently.”

“I believe he has plans for the Young Master and you,” said Sebastian darkly.

“You worry about Ciel, and I’ll worry about myself.” (Y/N) smirked. “I’m a demon, after all. I’m quite capable.”

Sebastian stepped closer, his gaze somber. “He knew your past. That suggests he’s a threat.”

(Y/N) pursed their lips. “I’ve never hidden the fact I had a human life.”

“And yet he seemed to know details. Even I do not know about your human life,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N) scoffed. “The ‘Master’ barely knew anything.”

“He knew something,” said Sebastian. “What is it?”

“Nothing that can affect me now, that’s the whole point,” said (Y/N).

“(Y/N),” said Sebastian sharply, his hand around them on the sink. “Tell me.” I can’t defend them from the Master if I do not know what he is planning. Defend them? Sebastian started. When had he started thinking like that? Had it really gone from attraction to protection so quickly?

(Y/N) narrowed their eyes. They had kept this information private for centuries. Their human life had been left behind when they became a demon. They disliked it having anything to do with their present.

But it was Sebastian. It was Sebastian asking them. It was Sebastian that seemed concerned for them, showing it in a very Sebastian-way.

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted, and they sighed. If there was a single being in the world they could trust at all to not use anything in their past against them, it was Sebastian.

“The Master was referring to my death,” said (Y/N). Their head tilted back, and they stared at the ceiling as their memories returned to them. “When I was dying, I was on the edge of Heaven and Hell. If I had gone peacefully, I likely would have gone to heaven.” Their eyes darkened, and their head dropped to make eye contact with Sebastian. “But I didn’t. With my final breaths I cursed the people around me, wished death and destruction on them. I earned Hell.

“That’s what the Master referenced,” said (Y/N). “I chose Hell. And I have no shame or guilt over my actions.”

Sebastian had thought they couldn’t get more interesting, but he was wrong. (Y/N) had just become more attractive to him for having chosen Hell. Not many mortals had the bravery or stubborn will to do so.

“I would not have you feel any shame. Not when you are a demon of this caliber,” said Sebastian. He took a moment to observe (Y/N)’s minute twitches, the way their mouth turned slightly upwards at the satisfactory praise but their brows furrowed at his openness, and he smirked inwardly before straightened and stepping back.

“Do you think the Master can really do anything with that information?” asked (Y/N), crossing their arms and narrowing their eyes. They didn’t like the idea of anyone trying to make them feel vulnerable. They had fought for millennia to prove their strength.

“I’m not sure,” admitted Sebastian, eyes narrowed in frustration. “But he’s clearly planning something.”

“Well, Ciel is the more vulnerable, so I’d worry about him,” said (Y/N). They turned around and put away the plate they’d been washing. They stepped past Sebastian to the door. Their eyes flashed fuchsia. “I can handle whatever this Master tries. After all, you taught me.” They left the room.

He had. And that’s why Sebastian had gotten attached. That’s why he was going to keep the Master from getting closer to Ciel or (Y/N).

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#one hell of a love #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #sebastian x demon!reader #demon reader #demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler x reader #black butler fic #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader

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vee-crytraps · 7 months ago

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Kiss Me More | Ch 4-1 | {Ornament}

Chapter Summary: The optics change. AN: Who doesn't love a good Wayne Gala? Part 1 because Tumblr has a word limit apparently!

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist} First | Previous | Next | Part 4-2

“You know, this is like, the only time I’m not jealous of those three. I hate talking to these business types,” you share, talking over the rim of your glass as you soak up the mini crowds that have formed around Dick, Tim and Damian. Clumps of high society’s finest roam the packed event under a glittering chandelier mounted high above the dance floor. Circular tables in blinding white cloths pepper the room- the dainty plates slowly filling with tiny sandwiches, puff pastries and hors d’ouvres. You’re much more interested in the literal tower of champagne uniformly poured into crystal flutes with razor thin stems.

You decide to show some restraint and skirt around it, because only a newbie would sneak off with a glass right at the start of an event like this. Someone like Tim or Damian could often get away with snatching a glass or two right from the well balanced trays of the servers that expertly snaked from one end of the room to the other. Often times, said servers even set the glasses straight into their hands without thought. Usually, you were never so lucky. Tonight was different. You could feel it, sure as the glass that was casually placed in front of you.

“You look real pretty tonight, baby bat,” Jason whispers, his hand sliding up and down the back of your arm. His voice is low enough that no one else can hear him, but his eyes search yours.

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you have to shift and press your thighs together. You can only assume that he was telling the truth about the dress, but he would much prefer to see you out of it.

“But you’re right,” he continues, his voice as quiet as a whisper. “These events are boring as hell.”

“At least there’s something to say about the free booze,” You laugh, placing your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with practiced grace. “On the business side of things, we’re totally the black sheep as far as the public is concerned. I’m not too worried about that, though.”

Shifting your weight, you look at Jason from the corner of your eye.

“You’re looking rather dashing yourself, J. How much did dad have to pay you to wear the tie?”

“Do you think he’d notice if I just…took if off?” Jason asks, his voice just as quiet as yours. “It’s been choking me the entire evening.”

His eyes are on you, and they linger across your body in a way that makes your skin tingle a little bit more than you’d like to admit. You can almost hear the phantom noise of him tearing the dress off of you.

“Maybe just loosen it a little, do you want me to help?”

“Maybe just a little,” Jason mumbles. “Thank you.”

Reaching forward, you begin to loosen his tie.

His hands settle on your waist, and you can feel the heat of his palms through your dress as you work. His eyes are fixated on your face as your fingers worked the knot in his tie. He can feel your breath against his neck, and he wants nothing more than to pull you against him like he did the other night.

“That dress is…something else, doll.”

Tonight, you were freed from the shackles of your previous gala attire. You shudder to think about the sheer amount of ankle length dresses, doll like lace and silken frills. Of course, you’d been over the moon about said fashion when you were first welcomed into the Wayne household by your godfather. As you got older, though, the overly modest gimmick became more than a little suffocating. Of course, Bruce couldn’t pretend to be oblivious to your developing wardrobe sickness. He was Batman, for fucks sake- so it isn’t like you ever needed to voice that you were unhappydressing like a character in Little Women, but he’d always insisted. You’d certainly gotten into enough arguments about it.

As you sneakily inspected at your reflection in the spotless glass window, you wondered what changed.

Your dress fits you like skin and the low neckline leaves your shoulders bare. The hem flutters low around the heel of your designer shoes, the sole of which were painted a telltale red. For the first time ever, you’re wearing actual heels, grinning from a distance at Tim who you could now cast your gaze over without any effort. Despite you finally getting your hands on your Cinderella moment, you slip into your usual routine of slinking around the corners of the function, opting to people watch with Jason.

“Thanks. Bruce practically had a heart attack when he saw it, but the designer and Selina ganged up on him. They managed to convince him it was good for-“

“The optics.” Jason finished, in unison with you. “Bruce didn’t want you wearing this?”

Your skin was smooth and well moisturized, glistening in the light. Your hair was styled into submission, adorned with pins cast in literal gold. “You look incredible. Really.”

“So you keep saying,” The pair of you reach a corner table, and as grateful as you are to be wearing such cute shoes, they’re starting to kill you a little bit. “I’m supposed to be his baby girl,” you shrug. “And here I am, in a skin tight dress that costs as much as a brand new car, drinking champagne. If you ask me, I think it freaks him out that I look exactly like the type of girl he used to pick up at these things. If you catch my drift.”

“And here I am, thinking that was exactly why you got this dress.” Jason murmurs. You snort. “Seriously, though. He’s just worried because deep down, he knows you’re getting older.” There’s a familiar heat in his eyes. “It’s…a lot to process. Believe me.”

“I know, he’s just being the best dad he can.” You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. You’d imagined if your mother was still alive, she would have loved to bond with you over mini skirts and go-go boots. It was just the kind of mom she had been. You had ‘sisters’ for that, you supposed, but they hadn’t ever exactly been live-in. Stephanie, Barbara and Cassandra had their own lives, their own families and friends. Even if you had the courage to insert yourself into their every day lives, Bruce would have his usual concerns. You knew he wasn’t classist despite his billions. You supposed the years he spent overseas getting his ass beat by monks and samurai was probably quite the humbling experience. It still didn’t keep him from attempting to herd you away from some of the riff raff- though in your case, that basically meant every person who rocked a mask part time that wasn’t on Bruce’s payroll. From the day Bruce had taken you in, you’ve had everything more or less handed to you. Sometimes even on a literal silver platter. You were grateful and tried not to argue with him much from the beginning, but at 18, you were so desperate to express yourself that it was hurting. So you tried to sit back and enjoy having seized this minor victory in the battle to dress your age. Much like everything else in life, though- it came with some conditions.

“I’ve got a mission, should you chose to accept it…” You sit up, knocking back the rest of your champagne. If you wanted this victory to last beyond tonight, you needed to earn it. It didn’t matter if it isn’t fucking 1810, the rules of high society dictate that you were ‘out’ now. No more hiding in corners with Jason or stuffing your face beneath the pastry table. Simply put, if you wanted to dress like an adult, you had to act like one, too.

“More pictures?” Jason guessed, standing as well.

“You’d think the people of Gotham would tire of seeing me dance with you guys. It stopped being adorable when I hit thirteen.” You grumble, and Jason snorts in response.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s fun. And we look good together anyhow.” He offers you his arm, and you gingerly take it. Jason isn’t sneaky about the sidelong glance he casts at you. You’re sure he’s not admiring your necklace.

It doesn’t stop when you reach the dance floor. His hands rest low on your hips, and you move them up before setting your own on his shoulders.

“Earth to Jay. You can’t look at me like that.” He would take you more seriously if there wasn’t an edge of embarrassment in your voice. As if you don’t know what to do with all this attention. “We’re supposed to be like…sibling-ish.”

“Supposed to be,” Jason repeats with a lazy half-smile. “I’m not sure who decided to set the rules for that.”

“Bruce did,” You emphasize, but saying his name only makes Jason pull you closer. You can’t meet his gaze as he drinks you in.

“What if I’m not sibling material? What if all I can think about is bending you over the dessert table?” “Then think about something else,” “Like what?” It takes you a minute to think as you dance, swaying lazily with him as the small amount of press snapped a picture or two. He turned you in his arms and when you faced him again, you wore a smirk. “Cobblepot, three ‘o clock.” You tried, getting Jason to peak in the direction of the supposedly reformed criminal and his date- a rather tall, gorgeous young woman. “Do you think when she gives him head later he’ll use a high-chair or a step-stool?” Jason barks out laughing, and a well-timed glare from Bruce across the room has your second oldest bother disguising it with a fit of coughs. Jason says your name with shock that is only half fake. “When did you get so fucking gross? I’m a big fan.” “All I was asking is if you think he stands or sits for his blowjobs.” You snicker resting your forehead against his chest to hide your laughter, and he smiles into your hair. “I’d hardly call it a job, princess. That’s barely labor. It’d be like sucking on a Vienna sausage-“ You thank God that you’re dancing and not drinking, because the spit take alone would make the an awesome cover for a gossip rag. The fit of giggles you fall into shakes your shoulders, and Jason continues to hold you close until the song ends. “Bruce is giving us the signal to break it up,” He sighs, linking his arm with yours as he guides you off of the dance floor. “Boooo,” You mumble, swiping another glass from the tray of a passing caterer. Just as your bring it to your lips, Jason plucks it from your hand and takes a sip. You opt to take another one as a different waiter passes with a full tray. Rolling his eyes, Jason takes that one, too. “Be a good girl and finish your rounds before you accidentally get fucked up on this stuff, please?” He mumbles from behind his second glass. It wouldn’t be the first time he'd double fisted champagne at one of these things, though this was far from his drink of choice. “It’s barely alcohol-" “Correction. It barely tastes like alcohol. If you get sloshed at this thing, not only will you go back to dressing like a nun, Bruce will slap a chastity belt on you. And a backpack leash.” He tuts, peering over your head as a few new arrivals spill into the room. More sharp suits and sparkling dresses, but chief amongst them was Mayor Hill and his family. “Oooh excuse me. I’m gonna go bet Jordan Hill I can drink his ass under the table.” Part 4-2

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #v.fic #kiss me more

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fortheloveofarchons · 7 months ago

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Rapunther experiences rain physically for the first time with Alatus

It's Xiao's bday today so I wanted to post an early chapter for my favourite adeptus!!!

Enjoy! Full chapter in the link down below!

Rapunther had not realised how awkward things can get when you are walking with a stranger, especially when that stranger has no intention of communicating much.

“So, Alatus. What’s your favourite food?”

“I have no interest in mortal food. Cooking can be tedious and the wait for it is long.”

“Do you have a family? Like a mother or a father?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Why are you hiding so many things about yourself?”

“Hiding? I’m hiding nothing. I just won’t speak of desire to others.”

~~~~~~

He’s so hard to understand… So frustrating… Rapunther puffs his cheeks, pulling his hair close to his eyes.

Just then, Rapunther could feel something falling onto his head. In confusion, he pats his head, only to find it slightly damp. His nose then picks up the scent of petrichor, and looks up to find the clouds turning grey.

“Umm… Alatus?”

“How long are you going to keep dragging your feet?” Alatus looks over to Rapunther with an irritating glare. “Demons don’t stop for the rain, move.”

Alatus was gradually losing his patience as Rapunther dragged his feet even further. Rapunther understood that the weather might be a light sprinkle, but still, his father told him that the rain can make anyone sick.

“How about for a little bit? Please Alatus, we can continue after the rain stops.” Rapunther had a worried look in his eyes, and that made Alatus stop in his footsteps.

Alatus looks towards a serene lake, where the gentle patters of raindrops creates a soothing symphony that echoes across the water’s surface. His eyes land upon a remarkable sight– a few giant leaf plants, its vibrant green foliage towering above the water like green umbrellas.

Seeing this, Alatus wades into the shallow waters, soaking him from his knees down, his hands reaching out to grasp the oversized leaf. As he plucks it out from the water, he holds the giant leaf afloat, its broad surface providing ample shelter from the gentle drizzle, its vibrant green hues glistening in the soft light of the rain.

“Come. Didn’t you say you want shelter?” Alatus turns to Rapunther, angling the giant leaf to try and protect the golden-haired acquaintance. Rapunther and Paimon quickly join in after Rapunther pulls his hair in a bundle, the sound of raindrops pitter patter as they huddle together in this shelter.

It is serviceable enough, though not so serviceable that it protects their bottom half. The wind blows the rain into their legs, soaking them from the hips down.

Despite them being partially soaked, Rapunther mutters out a few words that Alatus could hear.

“...Thank you.”

As the rain continues to cast gentle dribbles, the two of them walk in silence, with Paimon resting on Rapunther’s shoulder, shielding themselves from the rain. Rapunther steps over one puddle and into another, mumbling softly as water splashes over his bare feet. Rapunther has few indulgences, and in this situation having good shoes is of necessity.

“Alatus…”

“What is it this time?” Alatus asks, without sparing a glance to his golden-haired acquaintance.

“When you said that demons don’t stop for the rain…” Rapunther tries to study Alatus’s expression, his boots wet and dirty from the wet puddles, yet utterly unbothered by it. “Do you refer to yourself as a demon?”

There’s a stretch of silence as Alatus looks up to the clouds, where the haze of the clouds looks like it has been painted in smudges of monotonous colours. Alatus holds the stem of the towering leaf tightly as the rain pours down around them.

“I suppose so, to some extent.” Alatus says at last. “I understand this is not an opinion most mortals share, but I suppose that submerging myself in this rain helps me keep those terrible thoughts away.”

“Submerging.” Rapunther repeats the word, his mind learning something new.

“When one is inside, yes.” The tension in Alatus’s shoulder gradually eases. “Outside, it is… different. More… calming.”

Rapunther can almost relate.

“I’ve never been in the rain, so this feels… refreshing. Aside from the wet puddles, of course. But I’m sure with nice shoes and a little portable shelter, it’s actually not that bad.”

A grimace pulls across Rapunther’s face.

It’s actually not that bad.

Who is he, some bumbling teenager who has no idea how to talk to someone who is the same age as him?

But it is so much worse than that. Alatus isn’t just someone who looks possibly the same age as him, he’s a wanted general, he’s an acquaintance, he’s– he’s someone Rapunther just met a few hours ago, Rapunther reminds himself.

Alatus turns his gaze towards Rapunther. “In my years of living, most mortals I’ve observed dislike the rain.”

Another reminder that Alatus is different, is set apart, and isn’t human.

Rapunther hears the reminders, which raises a question.

“You keep referring to me– and the people outside the tower as ‘mortals’. Do you… live longer than us or something?”

Alatus lets out a sigh. “Yes. That I will admit. We, yakshas, are immortal beings, fiercely illuminated beasts.”

He’s opening up… a bit. That still makes Rapunther happy. He had only touched the surface, and the Wanted General is still an enigma. Rapunther wants to know more...

#ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #genshin impact #genshin aether #genshin xiao #xiao #aether #xiao genshin impact #aether genshin impact #xiaother #xiaoaether #xiao angst #xiao fluff #aether fluff #aether angst #genshin impact fanfics #tangled au #tangled inspired #yaksha

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meirimerens · 2 years ago

Note

For the questions for fic writers, What do you wish someone would ask you about ATA? Answer it now!

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [ATA]? Answer it now!

ough this one does make you rake the brain... i'd say i'd love to be asked about what didn't make it into this 95k+ words of a monster... because even with how big it is i still ended up with spill-over.

& i'd show you bits of what didn't make it in but that i could salvage... behold!

Burakh held his steps back, tense from the knee up, wincing when the stairs creaked. He weaved his way through the threshold of the attic, past the folding screen. He stopped. The Bachelor’s bed was unmade, the deep dark red woven coverlet laid crumpled like an open wound, like a mouth. Dankovsky’s nights were restless and agitated. Burakh was even more concerned by the fact that he seemed to have left in a hurry.

^ this was supposed to happen somewhere in chapter 6, as Dankovsky g*** s***. it ended up getting scrapped because burakh needed to be somewhere else at the time... a whole scene of him combing through dankovsky's belongings was to follow, gauging the amount of supplies he had, finding notes about his experiences, and some of the letters from PtB. then burakh would follow his trail into the steppe, increasingly worried

“... The tower?” “Yes.” He reached a hand out through the open window. The cold night air bit swiftly at his arm—Burakh saw how the hair on his skin rose. ... A rose on her stem. I feel like I could pick her out.

^ I wonted more discussion of the Polyhedron between those twos, as it only made sense. this would have happened on day 3 or 4, but ended up being scrapped for more Polyhedron Vibes when burakh's alone, and the very last paragraph of chapter 5...

“And, Oynon?” “Yes?” “The Commander wants to see you.” Dankovsky deeply, loudly, exhaustingly sighed like he wished his breath could sweep Burakh’s word off the table. “I’ll come and meet him. Has he met you?” “He… hasn’t.” “Does he want to?” “From what I’ve been told, he rather wants to pop a cap in one of my knees,” Burakh nervously laughed. “Pray tell,” Dankovsky ducked his head to the side, “what did you do?” “I know damn well what I’ve done,” Burakh swiftly defended himself, “I know even better what I haven’t done, but my… reputation precedes me.” Dankovsky nodded. “I’ll talk to him.” Then, after a pause: “I’ll attempt to talk to him.” “Thank you, oynon.” “Keep yourself safe in the meantime. Don’t try anything weird.” “Oh, I can’t promise that.” They shared a nervous bout of laughter, one that scraped Dankovsky’s too-sore throat a bit raw. When silence settled back in, the Bachelor’s eyes grew severe again, solemn. He reiterated his thank-you like he hadn’t moved on from it. Burakh, instinctively, offered a theatrical selfless bow.

^ this one was drafted before i decided on the chapter 11 In The Hole You Go and the following scenes with Block.

The twin coins of the Architect’s eyes bittered and bowed, heavy with a sour, steeped sorrow Burakh found uncharacteristic for him. Peter: not afraid of this, Burakh. not afraid like this. The Architect looked at him — at his disheveled hair, at the feverish sweat that glued his undershirt to his chest. Burakh understood. Burakh believed he understood. There was an unspeakable weight in the Architect’s eyes and Burakh felt like it would crush him.

^ freak of the earth once more.

“You’re no Charon and this is no Styx” … and this river is not the Acheron. Here you are still, on the waters of sleep, Pulling threads to you, passing them on, Holding on to the obols you’re trusted to keep.

You have the hands of a link, of tethers, (you are the anchor / the missing piece) You carry like Atlas these heavy night skies; Like those before you, you thread the deep waters Where the half-everything come to bleed sorrowful sighs.

^ this was supposed to be part of the summary, but i decided to go anotha route... i wanted to reuse this somewhere but didn't get to. OH WELL!

throw me one

#ask games #ring ring (answers)#anonymous

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esoteric-mantra-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Hephaestus (A gossipy Icebound Return)

CW: No depictions of violence, but the previous chapters are referenced so be warned.

Hey, remember when I said I would take longer to post? That was a lie. In my defense, this was supposed to be the start of next chapter but then it ballooned into its own thing and I decided to put it out on its own. Next chapter should be traveling to Nokstella and doing the thing Ranni asked them to do (Hopefully.)

As always, music suggestions are welcome.

“Past a waygate in Renna’s Rise, you’ll find the path to Nokstella through the mainstream of Ansel River. This section is unreachable from the well to keep the second eternal city hidden.” Iji speaks, never looking up from his book and only occasionally stopping to take a bite out of a Crisple. “Your objective lies beyond, past a Lake infested with the Scarlet Rot. The Grand Cloister lies at the southmost point, and within it, there is a coffin that shall lead to the Moonlight Altar, where Lady Ranni is waiting for your attack on the Two Fingers.” Iji concludes his summary, taking another bite of the sweet dough while humming to himself in delight. It would appear your sweets were a success, at least. Lobo checks the path on a map Iji provided you with. “Crossing Nokstella shouldn’t be a problem….” He mutters to himself. “The Lake of Rot doesn’t have any paths. Going into the water might be our only choice.” That’s what you’re worried about as well. You can make plenty of Preserving Boluses, but a single misstep could mean dying a grotesque death. You turn to Iji, who seems to notice your concern. “Are there no boats we can take through the lake? Or at least some path that avoids the water?” Iji shakes his head. “I’m afraid any wood that makes contact with the water is bound to start rotting away. I suppose something made from Unalloyed Gold might be enough to protect one from the Scarlet Rot, but otherwise, there isn’t much to be done.”

-----------------

Despite being a vassal-of-my-enemy and traumatized-child-of-my-former-ally pair, Iji and Lobo get along surprisingly well. Maybe it stems from them being quiet and reserved or what Iji said about Lobo reminding him of a young Blaidd. Honestly, if it wasn’t because of the baggage of their relationship, you could see them being great friends. As an act of kindness, you try to bring him something nice to eat. Scaling the sweets up to his size is a bit of a chore, though. You still remember the distraught look on Lobo’s face when you poured an entire two jars of honey into making Troll-Sized Honey Crispels. They were large enough that no human plate would fit them, so you got creative and used a circular Greatshield as a plate instead (after thoroughly washing it, of course). Iji was delighted, if a bit surprised you’d go to such lengths for him. You get the feeling he’s not used to people accommodating for his size, but perhaps it would be rude to ask. No matter. You’re not here to socialize. You’re here because you’ve joined Ranni’s service temporarily, and Iji is supposed to instruct you on how to reach the Princess’ Two Fingers.

Your companion hums, pondering something. “And I suppose Ranni isn’t dealing with any of this, is she?” Iji shakes his head once more. “Lady Ranni transported herself directly to the Moonlight Altar. If she could take you along, I’m sure she would have.” A deep sigh leaves the quarter-wolf. He hasn’t looked up from the map. “Yes, but only because it would make things more convenient for her.” Iji had no retort. You look towards the towering shape of the Moonlight Altar. You’d been to the Albinauric Village below under Latenna’s guidance, but you never saw any viable ways to the top. Maybe a catapult would do the trick? No, you suppose that there’s a higher chance of you hitting the side of the altar. Making Preserving Boluses appears to be the only way, though that would also mean a trip back to Caelid. How cumbersome-

“Aha!” Lobo exclaims, suddenly getting up from his seated position and excitedly hobbling over to the Site of Grace. “Hey, where are you going?!” You yell at him, but he pays you no mind as he is wisped away by the glimmers of gold. You can only hope he’s figured something out, though your companion can be so odd sometimes. Iji glances up at Lobo when he leaves, then continues reading his book and delighting in your sweets. You stare at him and then back to the site of grace. You don’t like keeping secrets from Lobo, but you must confirm something with Iji. Something you would prefer not to bring up when he’s around.

“Iji, did Ranni tell you about that clergyman in Northern Caelid we were sent to meet? Do you… happen to know who he is?” Iji tilts his head slightly. You have piqued his interest, at least. It would seem Ranni did not tell him about Gurranq. “Lobo thinks he’s a shadow too, but Gurranq wouldn’t say who his master is.” Iji lets out a thoughtful hum as he puts his book to the side. “A shadow-bound beast other than Blaidd… It… Yes, it could only be him… Maliketh, the Black Blade. Queen Marika’s Half-Brother.” The Black Blade… You’re sure you’ve heard the name before. It had to do with the Night of the Black Knives. That terrible tragedy only happened because the Lunar Princess stole death. “…He was the one who guarded Destined Death, didn’t he? The one thing the demi-gods feared, that which could grant death to the undying.” Iji nods solemnly. His mirrored helm hides his face from you, but his body feels tense. “The very same. He disappeared along with the rune of death millennia ago, but to think he was merely under a different name, living still within the Lands Between. Even more, to think Lady Ranni would know of this and send you to him. I am sure my lady must have her reasons, but what she would want from one such as Maliketh is unknown to me.” So Gurranq was the shadow of Marika this whole time, but that doesn’t explain why he’s been cursed with an endless hunger for Deathroot. There’s also the matter of him referring to himself and Lobo as Vessels. What are they meant to hold within themselves? Unless… “I… I have seen no blade whenever I visit to feed him Deathroot. Do you think… the Rune of Death might be inside him somehow?” Iji leans in, hanging onto your every word. “Tarnished… that root you feed him is the one that grows where Those Who Live In Death linger, correct?” You nod, maintaining eye contact (mirror contact?) with the troll. “Then. Yes, it does seem likely that Maliketh placed the Rune of Death within his own flesh. The Shadowbound are beings of magic and flesh. Thus, their bodies can hold curses within themselves, though it is not without consequence. It seems his hunger for the root might stem from this action, as it too contains the essence of Death within.” Iji leans back, gauging your reaction from behind his helm. Your mouth feels dry. It’s a lot to take in at once.

Why would Marika be so cruel as to punish his half-brother, possibly for eternity? If Maliketh is a vessel for death, what does that mean for Lobo? If he’s a vessel, then what is he meant to hold? And there’s the other matter they have in common, that is Lobo’s own black blade. He still has not revealed its origin to you. Does that have to do with his kinship with Maliketh? You look towards the Site of Grace and back to Iji. “It seems to be an unfortunate trend, doesn’t it? Shadows are incapable of treachery, yet it seems no master can return their love….” You expect Iji to reprimand you for speaking ill of Ranni, perhaps even correct you about their relationship. That’s why it catches you off guard when Iji hesitates before slowly nodding. “... It is… Tarnished.”

The conversation stagnates after that. You have many questions about Gurranq, but Iji has already told you everything he knows. Well… except for one matter which you can consult him, not as War Counselor, but as Blacksmith. Besides, Lobo doesn’t seem to be coming back soon.

“Have you seen this sword before, Iji? Or do you happen to know where it came from?” You show him Lobo’s black blade, lifting it with both hands. Iji picks it up between his index and thumb, making it look more like a toothpick than a god-slaying weapon. “Oh, why yes, I am quite familiar. Before I tell you, however, I must ask for your sworn secrecy on the matter. Especially in regards to Lady Ranni and the Young Aster.” You scratch the back of your head. You didn’t expect the answer to be so… easy to obtain. “I didn’t take you as the type to keep secrets from Ranni. I suppose you must have your reasons.” You put a hand on your chest. “I swear on my life that I won’t tell a soul of anything we’ll be discussing. Is that okay?”

Iji puts the sword down on his anvil, seemingly satisfied with your oath, before leaning closer. “I know very well the maker of this sword, for I am him.” You bring your hands over your mouth, but it doesn’t cover the loud “What!?” that escapes you. Iji shushes you, staring toward the general direction of the Site of Grace. Right, secrets. “I trust you remember our last conversation. How I’d told you about Blaidd’s inner desire to be released of his service to Lady Ranni?” You nod, your hands still covering your mouth. Iji lets out a long sigh. The weight of his years suddenly comes crashing back. “Well… I could stand it no longer. My fellow vassal and friend was mercilessly torn apart between both sides of himself… Though I could never directly rebel against my lady, I could empower one who would….” Iji’s usually calm tone is replaced by one wrecked with emotion. “... I learned of their escape to a distant land. I turned a blind eye and pretended I didn’t know their location. I knew… I knew one of them would eventually seek revenge. That’s why I reforged a set of black knives I had in store into a blade that could grant my friend his freedom and sent it along as their inheritance. They were to receive the blade once they turned old enough to wield it.” A long finger ran from the hilt to the tip. His hands are steady and careful, despite the wavering in his voice. “... I didn’t expect it to be the tiniest pup… Perhaps it was fate that the one who could impede Lady Ranni’s destiny would be the one to fulfill my treachery.” Iji leans back, trying to return to the grandfatherly blacksmith persona but failing. You clasp your hands in front of you, finally removing them from your mouth. “I hope you understand now why I don’t wish for Lady Ranni or the young Aster to know of my involvement. Treachery is treachery regardless of if it’s done with good intentions. As for Aster… it’s perhaps selfish of me, but I enjoy seeing him….”

You don’t feel there’s anything you can say to that. While you would always prefer honesty, you can also understand wanting to keep those you love safe. “I swore to keep the secret, right? That means we’re stuck in this together now.” You say, and Iji chuckles. He’s slowly returning to his usual self. “Quite. Now, if you wouldn’t mind. I would like to keep this blade if you’re not to use it anymore, may I?” You nod. “Sure, Lobo gave it to me, but I can’t even lift the thing, let alone swing it.” Iji thanks you and picks it up with two fingers to store it away somewhere behind him. You were about to comment on why he would want it now, but Iji points behind you just as Lobo’s silhouette reappears at the site of grace, this time carrying a large stack of cloth and supplies. Looks like the conversation is over.

“Sorry for taking so long. I had to meet with our merchant friend for special supplies, and there was a line of ten or so people.” Lobo says, trying not to drop any of his supplies with his wobbling while he walks towards you. “What’s all of this? Is this… leather?” You stare at the strange consistency of the cloth. It feels smooth to the touch but has a degree of grip on your fingers when you slide them across. Lobo shakes his head. “No, I thought of using leather, but it’s not waterproof. Instead, I asked for something imported. Mackintosh. The gum-like feeling of the cloth comes from distilled coal tar. It cost me an arm and a leg in runes, but I think it will be worth it if we can pull this off.” He turns to Iji now, who is eyeing the cloth with curiosity. “I know your expertise is in weapons and armor, but I hope you wouldn’t be against helping me with a different type of project.” Iji chuckles as if your previous chat never took place. He says. “Luckily for you, I happen to be a good seamster as well.”

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bucks-metal-arm19 · 3 years ago

Text

Nightmares and Love-Making

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, talk of nightmares, cursing, voyeurism, dirty talk, face sitting, squirting, slight praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything!

18+ only!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Welcome to my first Bucky Barnes one-shot! This stems from the fact that I couldn't find the smut I wanted so I just wrote it myself. I hope you like it! As always, it isn't looked over so all mistakes are my own :)

You caught him at a bad time- in the middle of what seemed to be a horrific nightmare as he slept on his makeshift bed on the floor. You knew he couldn't sleep in his normal bed in his normal bedroom, and you knew that the king-sized mattress was still adorned with the solid black fabric set you had gotten for him as his first official birthday present. He told you, one night as the two of you escaped to the roof of Stark tower, that the bed made him feel like he was getting swallowed alive. He was used to sleeping on a solid floor, with the thinnest blanket one could find and so that's what he did at his own home. home- he was still getting used to even having a home.

“Buck? Bucky, wake up! It’s a dream, just a dream! JAMES, WAKE UP!” You hollered, having dropped your stuff at the door and running to collapse on your knees next to the man as you urged him to wake up.

“Wh-what? J-just a dream?” He had finally quit shaking, and became coherent enough to realize that he was no longer at the HYDRA base, and was, in fact, in his own apartment with you holding him close to your chest.

“Yes, just a dream. I promise, you’re okay.” His fingers were clutching the arm you had draped across his midsection and you knew that his vibranium fingers would be leaving imprints on your skin for you to wear for the coming week.

“I thought...I thought...they had taken you. Hurt you. And I couldn't stop them. Could hear you screaming for me and I was powerless to fight all of them off. I couldn't...I couldn't save you.” He was sobbing, moans of a broken man being screamed into your skin as he clutched you like a lifeline. Your heart broke as you held him, quietly cooing and stroking his hair as you waited for him to come back to you.

It didn't happen though; instead, his body steeled in a form of mental resolve and suddenly you were under him. Your back was laid flat against the cold wood of the floor and your hands were pinned above your head. You didn't even have time to gasp audibly as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them so that they had to wrap around his waist. You wanted to fear him, could feel your mind racing to find ways to get out from his grasp, but you were curious to see what would happen with this new side of Bucky. Almost feral with the way that he was panting, eyes darker than coal as he stared you down like you were his prey.

“You will not be taken from me, you are mine. Do you hear me? No one will ever take you from me.” Bucky’s voice had dropped ten octaves between words, and you would be lying if you said that it did not make your heart skip a beat in anticipation.

“I’m yours, Buck. Forever.” You promised, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry.

“Say it again.” He growled, deep in his chest, as he leaned down to nuzzle against your collarbone and breathe in your scent.

Your head fell back in submission, allowing him to press feather-light kisses and bruising bites against your throat as you murmured, “I’m yours, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” He had you flipped to your stomach in a second, with your arms still above your head.

“What are you gonna do to me, Buck?” You whispered, but you knew that he could hear you.

“I’m going to ruin you, princess. Gonna absolutely fuckin’ ravish you until the only words you know are ‘please’ and ‘daddy.’ Gonna make you cum on my cock until you're crying, oversensitive, and begging me to stop. But you’re a good girl, my good girl, and you’ll take all of it until I fill you full of my cum. Then I’m going to run you a warm bath in my tub and I’m going to take care of you. Nurse your aches and lotion your bruises and then cradle you in my arms as we both drift to sleep. Does that sound good to you?” You can hear the cheekiness in his tone, but it’s laced with authority and you knew better than to deny him. Besides, everything he just said sounded wonderful and so you nodded your agreement.

“Words, princess. Use them.” He ordered, the grip on your wrists tightening in warning.

“Yes, Daddy.” You obliged, and the dark chuckle that erupted from his throat held a sinful promise.

“Wonderful.” That old-time drawl curled around the single word and suddenly you were resting on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Your stomach clenched and you could feel your pussy pulsate as arousal began to collect in your panties. Buck was still draped over your back, and he was rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his cotton sweats while he contemplated what he wanted to do to you first. It was only a moment, but the single beat of a second was all he needed before he had your jeans around your ankles and had settled on his back between your spread thighs.

“What are yo-” you began to question, but the words were cut off as each of his ten fingers wrapped around hips and he yanked you down so that his mouth and nose were buried within your cloth-covered cunt.

You heard him take a deep inhale through his nose and he let out the filthiest, bone-melting groan that you had ever heard him utter. Your nipples pebbled instantly beneath your lace bra and your eyes fluttered closed as you heard him chuckle once more.

“God, you smell fuckin’ delicious, kitten. All wet and warm, just for me.” His nose nudged against your swollen clit as he licked a broad stripe up over your slit once and then again before using his teeth to yank the sodden fabric to the side so he could taste you properly.

A shudder wracked through your body from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he continued his licks, collecting all of your wetness on his tongue and fucking his tongue into your leaking hole as his nose connected to rub up against your sensitive clit.

“Oh fuck, Bucky. Christ.” You whined, rocking your hips against his face without meaning to but the way he was gripping your hips and tugging you closer told you that he didn't mind the possibility of suffocation.

“Can't wait to be buried inside this tight, sweet cunt.” Buck snarled, using the hold he had on you to flip you onto your back. He thought ahead- as always- and made sure that your head would be safe as it fell against his pile of pillows on the floor.

“Then bury yourself, Daddy. Fuck me.” You husked out, pupils blown wide in lust and adoration as you continued to fuck yourself onto his tongue.

“Not yet, doll. Want you to cum on my face first. Damn near suffocate between these gorgeous thighs.” He ordered, eyes blazing as he gazed at you from between your legs.

“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, fingers clutching and clawing at your still-covered tits while you chased the high building inside your body.

White-hot heat began radiating from your fingers first, and then your limbs, and then from every inch of your body as you threw yourself over the edge of your orgasm and came undone as you rode Buck’s face like it was the best thing you had ever experienced. And it was- each orgasm he gave you always outdid the last.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. But you’re not done yet.” Buck finally managed to say as he untangled himself from your jeans and clenching thighs so he was standing before you in all of his glory.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy? Gonna use your cock and fill me up so I can help you forget all your worries?” You grinned up at him, still panting as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

“Yes, princess. I am.” His tone held no malice, and his eyes were watching you with lustful enjoyment as he mentally cataloged the image of you like this to his brain.

“Then fuck me, already.” You taunted, leaning up just enough to yank your shirt over your head and then followed it with your bralette so you were finally bare beneath him.

“You don't make the orders, you take them. Do NOT forget that.” The mirth that had overtaken him left suddenly and he was back on you in a second, sweats gone as he pinned you to the floor with no exertion given on his part.

“Yes, Daddy.” You nodded, grinning as if you had won the lottery as your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist once more.

“Now you’re gonna take my cock, kitten. It’s what you wanted, right?” He was back to nosing against your neck, as if the past ten minutes had not just occurred.

“If you think you can do it.” You taunted once more, ankles digging into the skin right above the base of his spine so you could rut against him like a dog in heat, absolutely no shame in your body as you used him for the friction you needed to get off.

“Is that how you want to play it? Fine.” He shrugged, as if you had just spoken about the weather, but the single motion he used had you back on your hands and knees in an instant.

“I don't think I can do it.” Buck began to speak as he kicked your legs apart once more, metal hand pressing down on the small of your back so the arch you held deepened and you were presented to him like an offering.

“I know I can.” And he slid inside you to the hilt, a single thrust that glided through your folds like butter and all thanks to the spit and arousal he created as he had eaten you out like his last meal.

Your mind blanked in an instant and a groan ripped out of your throat that sounded foreign to your own ears but sounded like the best kind of music to Bucky. You collapsed to your elbows, head falling to rest against the single blanket that Buck slept with when you weren't here.

“Ah, ah- no, you don't.” Bucky tutted between his teeth, flesh hand reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and wrap it around his fingers before pulling back so you were back onto your hands and could watch him through the mirror that sat adjacent from you.

“Look at you, kitten. Covered in hickies and bruises and panting like a whore in heat. And yet, you’re taking my cock so well. So fuckin’ tight and WARM, just like the first time we had sex. Your pretty pussy, stretching around my thick cock as I fuck you into oblivion. Absolutely ravishing.” Bucky always got mouthy when he was lost in your shared passion, and it did things to you that you couldn't explain.

“Keep your eyes on me while I make you fall apart.” He ordered, using the grip he had on your hip and the hold he had of your hair to fuck you like his life depended on it.

“Yes, Sarge.” You grinned wickedly as you saw his lips turn up into a leer, knowing full-well what that name did to him.

“Call me that again.” Bucky growled, letting go over your hair so he could lean forward over your frame to get a hand between your thighs to rub against your still swollen, sensitive clit.

“Make me cum, Sergeant Barnes. Please.” You tacked on the last word for good measure, already feeling the familiar tendrils of heat curl around your lips and rush through your veins as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

The clack clack clacking that his dog tags made against his chest after every move simply spurred him on, as if he was racing them for every thrust he made into your pussy, claiming it as his own. As if you ever even thought to let another man near it. He’d kill them before they even thought that they had a chance with you, and you both knew it. More often than not, he forgets that he’s even wearing them, but he knew that they were a kink of yours and he thanked every god he could think of that he wears them when he’s got you begging underneath him. Begging to cum, begging for harder, begging for faster, begging for Daddy to make her forget her own name while he buries himself inside her. Begging to be used and degraded and taunted and shown off like a prize that only he gets to win. Every moment of every minute of every day, from the moment they met until the end of time. And he loved every single damn second of it.

He was grunting, groaning, panting, cursing every word under the Sun as he rubbed tight circles into your wet clit while he sheathed himself inside you over and over and ov-, “FUCK!”

You came without warning, the damn bursting inside your pussy as you fell to your elbows once more while absolutely drenching his cock as you squirted for the first time. Shudders were wracking your body as you cursed and moaned and whined out Bucky’s name, vision turning black as you lost all sense of time during your orgasm. Your cunt turned into a vice on Bucky’s cock and it made him see God as he gave you one, two, three strokes before burying himself deep inside you and cumming in thick ropes across your hot, tight walls.

He fell on top of you, losing all muscle usage as pleasure roared through his body like he had never experienced before. He had enough sense to cushion you from the force of his body, but that was all he could offer as he rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm of his life. You managed to come to your senses first, and gently pulled away from Bucky so he could begin to come to his own bearings.

“That was...that was...wow.” You mumbled, vision still blurry as you threatened to pass out from too much mental and physical stimulus all at once.

“Well, it’s not begging but it is a nice Segway. Ready for that bath?” Bucky was able to stitch together a coherent sentence faster than you thought he would and you couldn't help but laugh in both amusement and amazement that this wonderful man was all yours. Even if he did fuck you senseless. Literally.

“I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

#bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #winter soldier #winter solider smut #dom bucky #marvel smut #bucky barnes one shot

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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FREE FALLING K.K.

Request: Okay some anons were simping over kon now I wanna simp~ y/n is an archer on the teen Titans , and she tends to be shy and on the reserved side, so when kon flirts she just dismisses him every time, until another guy ( superhero or civilian, you choose ) gets flirty and he gets made protective/jealous.

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m slowly running out of already written fics and my motivation has not come back yet. This hiatus may be lasting longer than I thought.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of flirting within the team. It kept the bond of teammates close and always kept everyone on their toes. The dynamic on the Teen Titans was always one of ups and downs. There was such an entanglement of potential relationships that everyone got confused as to what was going on.

Most of that confusion stemmed from Conner Kent, Superboy as the team knew him as. His temporary relationship with Cassie had surprised everyone. He flirted with nearly everyone on the team, Tim, Kori, you. Kon's endless flirting began the day Oliver dropped you off at the Titans Tower and left you there for good.

Kon was frustrating in the sense that his flirtation with you was nonstop. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep, it seemed that his only mission was to get you flustered. It didn't seem that he knew that you were bothered by his comments.

Tim always scolded Kon for his behaviour. After Cassie, it was clear that relationships among teammates was dangerous. Not to mention that it was pretty obvious of your blatant ignorance of his attempts. He continued to try nonetheless - one day you would crack for him, one day.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Kon was never an early riser. At the farm, he always got up early for chores, so at the tower he took every chance to sleep in. When he started to learn that you got up early, so did he. There was always the tired look in her eyes that he admired.

Kon found you down at the range. Though your skills were nowhere near Oliver, or even Roy, you put up a good fight just as much as everyone else on this team. The early hours were always dedicated to practice, and unfortunately, Kon figured that out pretty quickly.

You were so concentrated on the shot, you hadn't heard Kon's heavy footsteps join you. The shot went askew, completely missing the target. Your body tensed with frustration at him.

"Whoops, sorry babe. Didn't realize my good looks distracted you so much," Kon grinned. You refused to show him his words got you flustered. Instead, you grabbed another arrow. Babe. It slipped so smoothly off his tongue that it forced a chill down your spine.

"It's fine, Superboy," you assured him - though you were still angered at him for screwing around with your training once again. Kon leaned against the rack that held your bows. His arms rested on the top, head on his hands. His curls were still a mess from his sleep last night.

You felt your arm shake for a split second. His eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make the perfect shot just as you always did. There was a lot of pressure on you with his gaze. You took a breath before releasing the arrow, watching as it hit dead center of the target. It was easy, hitting a non-moving target like this. Kon was the one making it difficult.

"Superboy?" He cocked an eyebrow. "We aren't on a mission babe, you can call me Kon you know. I'd prefer it." Of course he would, he loved the sound of his name passing your lips. It was almost angelic. "You know-"

"(Y/N), Conner," Tim's head popped into the training room before Kon could tell you what he wanted. His chest fell with a disappointed sigh. "Nightwing and Flash are here."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked. They rarely showed up out of the blue without there being a reason. Usually, that reason meant that people were in trouble and lives were at stake. Tim relieved your stress with a simple shake of his head. He gestured for the both of you to follow him. Kon stuck his hand out for you to hand over the bow so he could hang it up on the rack he leaned on.

A small smile cracked as your hand brushed against his. It was cheesy, ridiculously so, but his touch was so warm and inviting even if it was just for a brief second. Kon placed the bow down and followed you and Tim out of the room. Just as Robin said, his older brother and his friend were with the others in the meeting room.

Wally's presence always lightened the room. There was something about the smile that resided on him that managed to put everyone in a good mood. It always amplified whenever Dick was at his side. The two were a dynamic pair, and when they did stop by the tower without underlying business, it was always a good time.

There were a few times that you had been alone in the tower. Tim back to Gotham, Kon and Cassie to their own homes as well. It left you and Bart with no one but yourselves to keep each other company. In those times, Wally would sometimes make an appearance. The speedsters would train but by the end of the night you would all be piling high with snacks.

As you entered the room, Wally waved at you and that smile that everyone looked forward to was released. Before you could wave back, a heavy arm was thrown across your shoulder. Kon was at your side. It wasn't the first time he had completely invaded your bubble and it surely wouldn't be the last.

"Flash, Nightwing," he greeted. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck with Kon's side pressed against yours. Hopefully, he, nor any of your other teammates, noticed your state. It was beyond annoying that he could get you like this. "What's the visit for this time? Scolding us for saving the day again?"

He dropped his arm from your shoulders but remained close to you. Kryptonians must have ran warm because you could still feel the lingering heat of his body against you.

"JL wanted an update, figured we could stop in," Wally answered. He sped over to your side and placed a hand over your ear so no one else could hear. "And Boy Wonder over there is in trouble with the Bats." Clearly, Kon heard what the speedster had to say and let out a laugh. What could Tim have done to get himself in trouble?

"Doesn't explain why you came," you joked. Wally had mimicked Kon's arm-over-the-shoulder.

"Wanted to come see you, of course," Wally grinned. His arm suddenly locked around your neck and his knuckles rubbed into your head. You struggled to pull him off you. Finally, you had managed to hook his ankle and make him fall flat on his back. "Look at that, you're making me lose my breath."

The laughter among teammates emitted from everyone besides Kon. He had an annoyed look on his face from the interaction between you and Wally, though he said nothing about it. Wally sped back up, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks after the interaction.

Kon watched in frustration as Wally dragged you into the kitchen, likely to find himself a snack or two. Your laughs always put a bit of joy in him, but now? Hearing you laugh because of Wally? Each sound was like a knife to the heart. Pure jealously ran through him - why was it that he could never make you laugh like that?

"Calm down, Kon," Tim stood by his side. It was clear to anyone, even when they weren't raised by the great Batman, that Kon was incredibly jealous of Wally. It was only Tim that decided to speak up. "There's nothing between them. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not," Kon snapped. His reaction was enough to prove that he was in fact jealous. He let out a huff of air before walking away from his best friend. Unfortunately, the further he got from Tim, the closer he got to you and Wally just to hear the sound of your laughter once more. His chest tightened with anger.

It wasn't at Wally, nor you. It was at himself for not being able to get you out of your comfort zone as the speedster could. Since joining this team it seemed he was the only one that you remained shy and nervous around. What was wrong with him to make you feel that way?

What was wrong with him that made you not want to spend time with him?

"There you are."

Kon disappeared shortly after you left with Wally (and eventually Bart who couldn't stay away at the smell of food). Tim was with Dick all afternoon and Cassie spent her time training with Kori. Kon was nowhere to be found, and you couldn't figure out why he felt the need to leave his friends.

You searched the whole building for him, starting down at the training grounds and working your way all the way up to the roof of the buildings. He was sitting on the edge, legs dangling as the last rays of the sun fell from the sky.

Kon folded into himself: shoulders hunched, head hung low. He perked up at the sound of your voice - even more so when he saw that you were alone. You sat next to him and matched his sitting position.

"Were you up here all day?" You asked. Kon nodded, though he remained silent. It wasn't like him to skip out on a pickup line or make some sort of comment. In fact, it wasn't like him to just disappear the whole day either. He looked upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kon was a horrible liar. You raised your eyebrows at him, indicating that you knew he was lying through his teeth. He sighed, leaning back so his palms pressed into the rough roofing. The golden rays illuminated him, creating an aura around him that made him seem godly. You wanted to reach out to him, but contained yourself.

The sunset was beautiful enough as it was, but to add Kon's beauty on top of that? Your heart was beating so fast you were sure that Kon's super hearing had him concerned.

"You don't have to lie around me, you know," You nudged his side. Kon sighed once more. He didn't want to tell you the truth, but he felt terrible for lying and making you worry. You were quick to notice a pink tinge on his cheeks. It was a turn of events, usually you were the one flustered around him. The hue looked pleasant on him.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly apologized, "I... Well, I guess..." Kon fumbled over his words. The pink on his cheeks grew brighter, even as he tried to hide it from you. There was never a day you thought you would get to see the great Superboy flushed like this. He was always the confident one. "Fuck."

Kon's hand grasped your cheeks. His split moment of hesitance made you realize exactly what he was about to do. Whether it be frozen in fear or excitement, you didn't try to move. The closer he got the harder your heartbeat until the point as if it felt like you were going to burst. The moment Kon's lips were on yours it felt as if it stopped altogether.

His kiss was soft, hesitant - nothing like the facade he always had up. Kon was delicate with you, as if he was worried he was going to break you with just a touch. Your lips moved against his with far more confidence than you had ever shown him before. You didn't realize how badly you craved for his taste until the moment you had it.

He pulled away only for a second, waiting to see if you were wanting him to quit completely. With no sign of regret, Kon pulled you in for a rushed kiss. His lips needy against yours, making up for the lost time that he wasted months on. It was only when his lungs felt like they were going to combust did he give you space.

"I-" His palm remained against the curve of your neck and jaw, thumb swiping against your cheekbone. "I was jealous today, of Wally. I've never heard you laugh so hard when you're with him and I wanted that. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Superboy," you assured him. He couldn't stop his feelings, just as you couldn't deny them anymore. "I-I'm sorry I was always so distant with you. I... I guess I was too scared to admit my feelings for you."

Kon was ready to spill his heart out to you. He knew that once he started gushing about how much he adored you, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he leaned into you again, smiling into your kiss with pure excitement.

His legs that dangled off the edge pushed against the siding of the building and pulling you along with him. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as the two of you free fell in the darkening sky. Kon's arm wrapped around your waist and he held you flush against his body.

Your head was buried into the crook of his neck until realizing that you were no longer falling but floating. The grip on his shirt loosened and you looked up to appreciate the new view he gave you.

Kon brushed his lips against yours once more, just to grab your attention. "Don't worry babe, I've got you. There's no need to worry whenever you're with me."

Taglist: @pricetagofficial @mora-miserium @babymango-writes @redrobin-yumm @simp-is-what-i-am @catsofsmoke @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires @pinkdiamond1016 @childish-kiwi @givetimdrakeacoffee @gunnedrobin @local-fandom-trashcan @bikoncon @foenixphire

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ko-riacchi · 4 years ago

Text

Live Stream

Pairing: Shigaraki x F!Reader Genre: Smut, Angst Length: 4,3k

WARNINGS: NONCON!

Thank you to @cultbabyyy who read through it as soon as I was done And thank you to @kazooli whose fics made me realize that I can write whatever the fuck I want

(Inspired by Yagami Yato’s Shigaraki Pt.3 audio)

Tomura was a man-child. Which meant that when he had a new toy, he couldn’t help himself but to rub it in other people’s faces that he had something that they – in fact – no longer had.

The room was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the computer screen and the various sources of blue light stemming from the computer tower, mouse and keyboard.

Tomura sat in his computer chair, arms possessively wrapped around your form and you wriggled and squirmed in his grip, trying to get loose.

“Now, now,” Tomura rasped into your ear. “Don’t struggle too much. You wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, now would you?”

Your face scrunched up and you bit your lip, knowing exactly what Tomura could do to you – even accidentally – and you stilled in his grasp.

His right hand left your figure now that you were placated and grabbed the computer mouse, the sound of it clicking reverberating through the otherwise quiet room.

You weren’t particularly interested in whatever he was doing on his computer, so you let your eyes wander through the room. You needed to find a way to get out of this situation, this room and especially this dangerous hold that he had over you.

You knew that the first two were comparatively easy to achieve, once you had successfully managed to pull off the latter one. After all, you hadn’t managed to become a pro hero without learning a skill or two.

But your offensive quirk just wasn’t suited to squirm free of his grasp without potentially getting disintegrated should all of his five fingers touch your body. Usually, you were quite content with your abilities but right now you couldn’t help but curse yourself for not being born with a quirk more similar to the one of your old teacher, Eraserhead.

Your gaze continued to examine the room, trying to find anything at all that could help you in your predicament. But mostly, the shelves were littered with games upon games, accompanied by the corresponding console. Behind you, a bed stood in the corner of the room, the sheets thrown on it carelessly. While those may not be able to aid you in your initial quest to rid yourself of his dangerous hands, you would be able to use them to cut off his vision once you had gotten free – even if it was just for a second.

Your thought process was interrupted by Tomura, whose hand slid back to your body, grasping your hip in his hand while making sure that his pinky was lifted as to not accidentally kill you.

“Now we just have to wait for a few more minutes and the show can get started,” he said, his hands leisurely beginning to stroke your sides.

“Show?” you echoed confused and for the first time, your focus landed on the computer screen in front of you where a website you didn’t recognize was opened.

What you did recognize however, was the screen in the middle which reflected your own surprised face and the grinning one of Tomura behind you. Your eyes flitted to the top of the monitor to find a small camera on top, the little red light on the bottom center telling you that it was currently recording.

Back on the monitor screen, your eyes zoomed in on a small number in the corner and quickly you concluded that it showed the current viewer number of what obviously was a live stream.

“Wh-what are you planning, Shigaraki?” you asked him and turned your head and upper body so you could look in his eyes.

His gaze locked on to yours and a grin stretched across his face, cracked lips quickly moistened by his tongue so they wouldn’t crack further.

“Why, I thought since I’ve got you here, it would be a… shame not to share all the fun we’re about to have with the world,” he explained. “I even sent some links out to your dear colleagues, wouldn’t want them to miss out on it, now would we?”

Your eyes darted back to the monitor for a second, the viewer counter steadily rising, before you locked your eyes with Tomura again.

“It doesn’t matter in what way you’ll try to hurt me. I’m a hero, for God’s sake, don’t think I’m not used to pain. All you’re going to achieve by streaming this, is that my colleagues will trace the IP and find this place even faster.” You sent him a defiant look.

Tomura erupted into cackling laughter, sounding like the crazy madman he was. “Hurt you? Oh no no no no, I think you’re misunderstanding. I’m not going to hurt you.” His right hand moved upwards to grip the top of your hero uniform; his pinky raised by acquired habit.

“Rather, I thought…” he continued, his grip hardening around the sturdy material before he purposefully burrowed his hand in it. “We could have some fun in a different way.”

Your horrified gaze went towards your chest, where the material of your suit began to crumble away in ashes, opening the view to your undergarments.

“Fuck you!” you screamed and started to struggle in his grasp. His left hand gripped your side harder, pinky raised, while his right hand came up to grip your chin.

“N’ah, ah, ah,” he chided you and his grip on your chin became painful. “Don’t forget that I hold your life in my hands.”

Before you had the chance to reply to him, his lips descended upon yours. His kiss was harsh and bruising, the feeling of his chapped lips uncomfortable on yours. You tried to break free of his hold, but it was futile. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked your lips, hoping to gain entry. You pressed them together more fiercely, your jaw gnashing with the force you brought up to keep your mouth closed.

Tomura clicked his tongue in disapproval. He took his mouth off you for a second to take a look at your tense face.

“Now, now, doll, while it would be a shame if this level was too easy to clear, I think you still don’t understand exactly in what situation you are currently in.”

As if to prove his point, his hand lifted from your jaw and gripped the fabric of your sports bra with all of his fingers. Instantly, the material began to crumble away under his grip until all that remained was a small heap of ashes on your legs.

Now, with nothing to cover your shame, your face burned with embarrassment and your arms shot up to cover your breasts.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me,” Tomura grinned and grabbed your arms to pull them away from your chest. “I’m sure your viewers would love to get a good look at you.”

You tried to fight his grip, but his raw strength was far superior to yours, so you had no chance but to uncover your breasts for everyone to see. Your eyes felt hot and began to sting but you refused to let any tears fall. A hero didn’t cry, no matter how dire the situation got. On the screen, you saw an influx of messages on the chat, not even bothering to try and read the contents; you were sure that it wasn’t something you would actually want to read.

Before Tomura could continue to embarrass you further, a “ding” sounded from the computer speaker into the silence of the room. This led Tomura to giggle in excitement.

“Seems like the first one of our special guests has just entered the stream,” he said from behind you. Your head whipped around to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked him, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, my doll. That ‘ding’ you just heard? Means that one of my invitation links just got opened and one of your colleagues just decided to finally join us. Why don’t you be nice and greet him?”

Tomura took your right hand he was still holding and began to wave it for the camera. Your eyes closed in frustration, knowing there was nothing you could do about it. When he was finally done waving for you, his hand let go of your wrist and immediately you covered your chest the best you could.

His now free hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back. His head burrowed itself in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting at your skin. His lips moved up towards your ear and he whispered “Now, let’s make sure that we put on a good show for our viewers.” before taking your earlobe into his mouth and biting on it.

“Once I’m out of here, I’ll fucking kill you,” you answered him through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the unpleasant wet feeling of his mouth on you. You felt him smile against your skin, but he didn’t say anything to you in return. Instead, his hand left your hair and glided down your face and neck, making its way down to your breasts.

Your hand gripped his wrist, trying to keep him from touching you in this intimate place but you already knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop him. Moments later, Tomura’s hand had reached its goal and he began to fondle your breast roughly, pulling and twisting your nipple.

Your face scrunched up in pain and once more, you tried to pull his hand away from your body – to no avail. He continued tugging and twisting and shamefully you noticed that your nipple was getting hard. You knew that it was merely a bodily response to being stimulated but it was still hard to stomach that your body was reacting to it when you sure as hell weren’t enjoying his ministrations in the slightest.

And it seemed like you weren’t the only one who had noticed. Tomura had as well and you felt his grin against your neck. “Oh, seems like somebody’s enjoying it?” he gloated and tugged on your nipple harder.

“As if!” you exclaimed, hoping that nobody else would believe his incredulous words. Everything about his touches was uncomfortable: His grip was rough and his hand felt scratchy on your delicate skin.

Once more, you started to wriggle in his grasp, knowing that nothing would come out of it. With just the threat of his hands, he had you defeated before you had even started fighting. And although what was about to happen horrified and scared you, death scared you even more.

Now his left hand let go of yours and instantly, you started curling in on yourself, trying to prevent him from touching you further or the viewers on the stream from seeing you. He allowed you to remain in this position for a few moments while his gaze was fixed on the screen, reading the influx of comments.

“It seems like the majority of our viewers want us to move on to the next level already,” Tomura said and his left hand snaked under your armpit and up to your throat, tilting your body back against his.

“What do you say we give the people what they want?” Another tug on your nipple, and his hand left your breast before it continued downwards to your panties. Your hands clawed at his arm, trying to free yourself from his grip and save the last bit of dignity you still had left. Tomura wasn’t fazed by that however and his hand steadily continued until it had clawed into the material of your underwear and it decayed into nothingness along with your last shred of hope to somehow free yourself of this situation.

The little pile of dust that had settled on your crotch was blown away by Tomura and his mouth stretched into a wide grin, his dry lips close to cracking open. The hand that had disintegrated your panties now took your right thigh and pulled it to the side, effectively spreading your legs and displaying your pussy for everyone on the stream to see.

You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see yourself and your shameful display mirrored on the screen. Your hands, that had been on his arm up until now, trying to free yourself of his grasp, fell limply to your sides as all fight left your body. You knew that there was no way you would be able to get yourself out of this situation before Tomura had had the chance to defile you. Your only option at this point was to wait for your colleagues to arrive and save you – and hoping that you wouldn’t get killed before they would do so.

Once Tomura felt your body slacken, he began to laugh. “What? Not gonna fight me anymore?” he asked, his voice full of malicious joy. “And here I was beginning to enjoy your feisty attitude.”

Your change in behavior didn’t however stop him from continuing on with his little show and his right hand moved from your thigh to your pussy lips, spreading them open with the pointer and middle finger of his hand to give his audience a good show.

“That’s some grade A hero pussy,” he grinned into the camera as rubbed his finger around your hole a few times. “I wonder how many dicks it has taken so far…”

He turned his face from the camera to you as if he was waiting for an answer. You weren’t willing to give him that information though and kept your mouth shut, even as he lifted his other hand from your neck to your cheeks to squeeze them and get you to talk.

After a moment however, it seemed as if he had lost patience waiting for your answer, as he retracted his hand and put it back into place on your neck.

“It doesn’t matter. Once I’ve fucked you, I’ll have you ruined for other dicks for all eternity,” he cackled, his pointer finger pushing into your dry cunt immediately after he had finished his sentence.

You hissed out in pain. The skin on his finger was rough and you – surprise, surprise – were not turned on at all, so it hurt when he shoved it inside without any preparation at all.

When Tomura heard your hiss, he cackled again, moving his finger around inside you.

“If you’re already struggling to take my finger, you will break apart once I shove my cock inside you.”

Slowly, he began to move his finger, and with horror you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter the more he prodded your walls. Soon, he was able to fit a second finger inside your heat, angling them upwards and against where he had read the g-spot was.

When you took a sharp breath, he knew that he had been successful and he continued to push against the little rough patch of skin, knowing it would be so much more bitter for you if your body enjoyed the ordeal.

After a few moments of pumping his fingers inside you, he stopped and leaned forward a bit, reading through the comments in the chat.

He laughed. “Yeah, that little hero pussy is getting nice and wet,” he replied to one commenter. “It’s sucking my fingers right in.”

As if to demonstrate, he pulled his fingers out a bit and moved them around, until a squelching sound could be heard, and then pushed them all the way inside again, which elicited a muffled moan you hadn’t been able to stop in time.

“She’s definitely enjoying herself,” he answered another comment, looking at you with a sleazy grin. “Isn’t that right, hero slut?”

You grit your teeth and held back the curses and slurs you wanted to reply with, knowing that it would amuse your tormenter.

Once Tomura felt like he had replied to enough comments, he turned his attention back to you, thrusting his fingers inside you harshly one last time before he took them out, lifting them to the camera first to show the glistening juices before he put them inside his mouth and licked them with an exaggerated hum.

“I hope you’re ready for the final boss,” he whispered into your ear, although he made sure that it was loud enough for his audience to hear.

You shook your head, one last time trying to squirm out of his grasp. All that achieved however was that your ass rubbed against Tomura’s bulge and he let out a soft hiss.

“No need to be impatient, little hero slut,” he said with a grin as the hand that held your neck lifted you higher so the other hand could loosen and push down his pants.

Even if you hadn’t wanted to, as soon as Tomura’s erection bobbed free and sprang up between your legs, your eyes wandered to it, widening when you saw his size.

Tomura had to have seen your expression mirrored in the stream because he let out a manic laugh, his entire body (and dick) shaking with the emotion.

“Oh, don’t worry, it won’t hurt… much,” he cackled as he rubbed his dick along your slit, coating it in your juices. You body twitched when the tip of his dick rubbed over your clit and a shameful whimper escaped your throat, although you willed yourself immediately to shut up.

Not wanting to see your own violation, you closed your eyes as Tomura positioned himself at your entrance and began to slowly push inside.

You couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped your throat at the intrusion, nor the squirming as you tried to get away from it.

Tomura only tightened his grip on your neck you, pushing your body down on him as his dick breached further and further into your wet heat.

Tears threatened to escape your eyes once Tomura was fully seated in you and only through sheer willpower, you managed to hold them back, unwilling to give up this last bit of pride you had.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Tomura groaned, stilling for a second to get used to the feeling of your cunt. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer the villain. No matter what you would say, he would only find it amusing and possibly use it to torment you further, either calling you a stuck-up hero bitch, thinking you’re too good for anyone, or a hero slut, willing to let anyone willing fuck you.

When Tomura realized he wasn’t getting an answer from you, he chuckled before he adjusted his four-finger grip on your neck, pulled almost all the way out of your cunt and slammed you down again until he was inside you to the base.

A pained cry flew from your lips but you had no time to even try and hold back your voice anymore, because Tomura immediately continued to jackhammer into you, moaning and panting into your ear as he showed the world how your cunt ate up his dick.

Your hands flew up to grab at his arm, futilely trying to steady yourself at least a bit, as he pushed and pushed and pushed into you. Squelching noises you were sure the microphone was picking up as well, came from your cunt as it greedily sucked Tomura’s dick back in every time he pulled back.

“Fuck, this is some grade A pussy,” Tomura groaned, his hips only slowing down a bit as his muscles began to hurt from the position. He caught his breath while he lazily thrusted into you, his moist breath uncomfortable on your ear.

Suddenly, Tomura moved and stood up from his chair, pushing you up as well with his hips. The hand that was around your throat slipped from under your arm and instead pushed down onto your back, laying you flat on his computer desk while his dick never left your tight cunt.

As soon as he had finished adjusting to the new position, he began railing you again, his hips slamming against your ass as his dick burrowed inside you further and further.

You let out a pained scream as his thrusts reached even deeper now, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to shut out the pain. At least in this position, the camera wasn’t able to get a shot of your face, you thought in relief, as it was too high to capture your body laid out on the desk.

Tomura must’ve noticed that fact as well because the next moment, the hand that pushed your back down moved up and grabbed your hair, pulling you up so your face was angled towards the camera. Your eyes flew open, a choked cry leaving you as you felt the burn on your scalp of your hair being pulled.

Right in front of you, you could see the red blinking light of the recoding camera and even though you wanted to close your eyes again, you found that the position made it impossible for you to do so.

So you had no choice but to stare into the camera as Tomura fucked you from behind while grunting and panting, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes filled with tears.

After a minute of thrusting and you getting slammed against the desk again and again, Tomura leaned forward to read some more comments, his face erupting into a cackle when he read one of them.

“They’re saying I’m not taking care of you,” he told you, pulling at your hair some more so your head leant on his shoulder. “Saying you look like you’re not enjoying yourself.” He let go of your hair which caused you to fall forward onto the desk, almost slamming your head on the wood. “Let’s change that, shall we?”

With those words, his right hand began snaking around your waist, moving down so he could rub at your clit. His other hand pulled your back against his chest, giving the camera a better view and himself some more room to move his hand around your little nub.

At first, it was easy to ignore the touches on your clit, instead focusing on your uncomfortable position but then, he moved his fingers in a way that teased your clit just right and your mouth flew open as a loud moan left your lips.

“Ahh, so that’s what gets you going,” he laughed, immediately repeating the motion and trying to get you to make some more noises. You tried to hold back the sounds, tried to force yourself to close your mouth so no more moans and whimpers could escape you, but Tomura simply moved his hand on your chest upwards, pushing two of his fingers inside you mouth so it would stay open.

His thrusts had increased in speed again, his dick rubbing against your g-spot as his hands teased your clit and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

You moved your body and tried to angle your hips in a way that would made Tomura’s actions at least a bit more bearable but he noticed right away and made sure that you could not escape the orgasm that was building inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re getting even tighter,” he rasped, out of breath due to his insane pace. “Are you gonna cum around my dick?” He laughed at your pained expression, letting out a grunt as your walls began twitching around him.

“Yeah, just like that. Cream around that villain dick like the hero slut you are,” he groaned, feeling himself edging closer and closer to orgasm as well.

With one last effort, you tried to move away and stop his hand from pushing you over the edge but it was useless and with a cry, you came on his dick, the tears you had held back the entire time running down your face as your body twitched and convulsed, milking his cock like some desperate bitch in heat.

Tomura let out a choked groan, pumping into you a few more time as he announced that he was going to fill your slutty pussy with his cum, before you could feel his dick twitching inside you. You wanted to shout, wanted to beg him to at least not cum inside but his hand was still in your mouth and so you simply cried in silence as his warmth spread through you and began dripping out of your pussy.

Tomura let out a shuddering breath as he calmed down from his high, falling down in his seat and taking you with him. His dick began to get flaccid and with a plopping sound the pulled it out of your abused cunt, spreading your pussy lips for your audience to show them the copious amounts of cum that now dripped out of your slit and down your ass.

“Next time,” Tomura laughed as he pushed his cum back inside with two of his fingers. “Let’s try out that back entrance of yours.” He teasingly let his finger circle around your cum-covered asshole while you simply lay on his chest, motionless except for your harsh breaths and the sobs leaving your body.

He wiped his gooey fingers on your chest before he leaned forward to grab his computer mouse, waving to the camera one last time and telling his audience he hoped they had enjoyed the show before he cut the stream and the red light of the camera turned off.

____________________________________________

When the screen turned black, back at the agency Katsuki slammed a fist on the table. He didn’t want to watch one of his coworkers violated but they needed to make sure you weren’t killed while his colleague on the desk worked on tracing the IP.

Katsuki whipped his head up, shouting over to the other pro-hero. “Did you fucking trace the stream?!”

It was silent for a minute while his colleague typed furiously, trying his hardest to get a location.

“…no.”

Katsuki’s scream of rage could be heard through the entire agency.

#bnha #bnha smut #shigaraki x reader smut #tw: noncon #bnha noncon

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twiceasfrustrating · 3 years ago

Text

Out in the Countryside

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationship: Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: Poly!MC, Picnic, fluff, hand-holding, implied drinking, Beel carries you, kissing these idiots being dumb but lovable

Summary: Sometimes you just wanted to have a nice day out with all of your boyfriends. You had the brilliant idea to go out for a picnic and enjoy some time away from the usual busy life you all lived. The brothers decided to indulge your wish, so into the equivalent of the Devildom countryside you go.

There was a lot of walking involved with picnics. You had never realized before how much walking really went into getting away from civilization. Not even a city, just some form of civilization. Then again, you had never seen the countryside in the Devildom before, so it wasn't fair to expect yourself to know that information beforehand. Well, maybe you should have, considering the human realm wasn't that different.

You had been left in charge of carrying the blanket, even after insisting you could carry something else. The brothers refused to let you, sitting that the baskets (yes, multiple) were heavy because they had to bring enough for eight people (one of which was Beel and his bottomless stomach) and one was full of dishes. They were objectively stronger than you, so there was no reason to have you exercise your limited human strength. The only brother not in charge of carrying a basket was Belphegor, who they worried would fall asleep on the spot if he had to use too much energy. Even Beel was allowed a basket of food in addition to the one for dishes (granted, it was one that had specifically been made so that he could eat it while walking because you all knew that was going to happen, but still).

The choice not to burden Belphie quickly proved to be a smart one, because he was soon yawning as he walked and you worried he would start literally sleeping walking.

You held the blanket against you in much the same way he did his pillow and went up to him, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Jus' tired..." His words slurred together, showing just how true that statement was.

"Yeah, this walk is pretty exhausting." At least one person agreed with you. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine. It almost made you angry because that meant they had been right about you carrying extra weight and how it would have been taxing on you. Stupid correct logic, "Hey? After we all eat, would you like to take a nap?"

The look he gave you told you that was a definite yes, but he clearly missed your intentions.

"I meant, would you like to take a nap with me? Maybe I can let you use my lap as a pillow?" You knew how much he enjoyed doing that, and you did too.

His eyes turned to you and a little "Mhm" left him. He could never turn down a chance to take a nap with you.

Still, he looked tired enough that you worried about him, so you reached out your hand to hold his and make sure that he wouldn't wander away if he did start sleepwalking. He gladly entwined his fingers with your own as you both walked along.

You both stayed like that until Lucifer spoke up, "This is our destination."

Your attention shifted, looking out ahead of you rather than on making sure Belphie was still awake. All you could do was stare in awe. It is so powerful that you find yourself letting go of the youngest brother's hand and stepping forward to get a better look at what lies before you.

The Devildom countryside was nothing like what you expected. You weren't sure what it was you expected, but it wasn't flowers. Actual flowers! Not that you recognized whatever type of flora they were, but here they were. The scene of the meadow against the pale red sky was hauntingly beautiful and all you could think of was enacting the scene straight out of a movie where you frolicked in the field. You looked at the brothers with wide eyes, begging to be allowed to go enact your plan.

Lucifer nodded, "They're safe for humans." He held out his hand to take the blanket from you, which you gladly let him.

With a twinkle in your eyes, you ran away from them and toward the field of flowers, immediately feeling how the petals softly brushed against your exposed legs. Upon closer inspection, something about them reminded you of multicolored spider flowers dripping with morning dew and dandelions with exaggeratedly large puffs. As you danced through the meadow, the dandelion puffs broke free from their stems and floated off into the sky. You stared in wonder as they flew in the wind and were carried off somewhere far away. It was moments like these where it was the clearest that the human realm and the Devildom had many similarities you never had time to think about.

The brothers watched you from the place you had split off from them, seeing how you enjoyed your first exposure to wild Devildom flowers. Your blue sundress fluttered in the same wind that carried away the puffs, making you stand out against the brilliant sky behind you. Each of them found it hard to look away and help set up the picnic like they had planned. The contrast in color made you look like a painting.

Satan paused from helping lay down the blanket to watch the wonder unfold on your face. He looked over to his next youngest brother, "Asmo, you helped her pick the outfit for today, didn't you?"

"Only the parts you can see." But those parts were still divine, "She insisted the rest of it be a surprise."

"You did well." He added before going back to helping spread the blanket.

Everyone else nodded in agreement. It was a simple outfit, but it gave them all terrible ideas about what to do with you. How else was a demon supposed to react to seeing such an innocent-looking human other than wanting to corrupt them?

"Can someone set out the food?" Beel wanted to do it himself, but he knew he was likely to eat it before anyone else could enjoy it.

Belphegor looked at him in sympathy, feeling how hungry his twin was in his own stomach, "We need to finish setting up first." He wanted to sleep though. The walk over had been exhausting and it was hitting him the hardest, "You should go check on her." He suggested, since keeping Beel away from the food was the smartest option.

"Huh? Why does he get to be the one to check on her?" Mammon burst into the conversation, "I mean- Ya should leave that kinda stuff to yer big brother. No reason ya gotta go out of yer way."

"Lmao. You're dating her and you still act like a tsun." The third-born couldn't help but laugh at how much of a trope his brother was.

He placed his hands on his hips, "Shad'up. No one understands that otaku talk of yers anyway."

"Then why are you so offended?" Levi mocked, not missing the fact that his brother clearly understood the jab well enough to know it was insulting.

"Enough." Lucifer ended the conversation before their bickering could draw your attention, "Unless one of you wants to play guard between Beel and the food, I think letting him go is the best option."

They looked at each other, knowing neither of them wanted that particular responsibility. Levi turned back to his job dejectedly while Mammon grumbled a "whatever" under his breath.

Belphie gave Beel a sly smile, knowing exactly what he had done. The redhead gave him a grateful nod before looking out to where you were now sitting among the flowers and walking toward you. He found you stroking the petals of the flowers, trying to understand how they felt soft to the touch even though they grew in a harsh environment. He sat beside you, drawing your attention to him instead.

"Oh, Beel." You pulled away from the petals and leaned against his towering frame, "Am I taking too long?"

"No." His gaze drifted down to you, seeing how peaceful your face was looking out across the field, "They're almost done getting everything ready."

You balk at his words, "Done? I didn't even help."

"Well, you looked like you were having fun. None of us wanted to bother you."

"But I should still help." You felt bad that you had left them to do all the work when you were the one that suggested a picnic in the first place.

"No one minds." They loved watching you enjoy yourself so freely. It had quickly become something akin to a hobby to them.

"I mind." It made you feel lazy to not help them set everything up. This was a relationship, so you should contribute to it as much as they did.

He didn't really know how to comment on that without undermining your feelings. It was clear you were upset about being allowed to walk away without contributing anything. You probably shouldn't have assumed they would wait for you to come back to set up, this was their date too, after all.

He couldn't think of anything to say to you, especially with your face as sour as it was. Instead of trying to use words, he reached out for a flower and plucked it from the ground. With a smile in his eyes, he placed it behind your ear.

"Watching you is nice." He gently stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers as he lowered his hand again, "Seeing you happy is the best part of a date."

The heat that rose in your body and up your face felt like it would cook you alive. You buried yourself into his shirt to hide the giddy, embarrassed smile that you were now wearing, "You can't just say stuff like that."

"Why not? Did I say something wrong?" The worry in his voice was saddening.

"Never." You shake your head and sit up ever so slightly so you can place a peck against his cheek, "Do you think they're done?"

His hand moved to his stomach, realizing for the first time since he joined you just how hungry he really was, "I hope so."

"Well then," you raise to standing and brush the dirt and pollen from your dress, "Shall we go back now?"

Nodding once again, he shifts in his spot so he can stand up. However, as he gets to his knees, he stops and looks up at you. His arms open wide And you know exactly what he's thinking about. With a shy smirk, you fall into his arms, sitting awkwardly on his bicep and trying to balance yourself.

Beel places his other hand against your knees to keep you steady as he stands up and lifts you straight into the sky. You giggle widely as you raise higher and higher, seeing how more of the area unfolds before you with height. Now you can see how the sea of colors you were just sitting in weaves together and how far it seems to stretch out.

Your eyes widen in awe, "It's amazing..." You can't really explain how beautiful the meadow is. It's not like the ones in the human realm that look delicate and fair. No. This one looks dangerous, those dew stricken petals reaching out to link each flower to its neighbor.

"You like it?"

"I love it." You couldn't imagine seeing this in the human realm. The flowers were just too unique.

"Whaddya think yer doing over there?"

You both turn to look toward Mammon, who is yelling at you from where the picnic has been fully set up. Clearly, he isn't a fan of being left out from a single intimate moment.

"I think that's our cue." You tell him, looking down but holding on tightly.

"Uhn." He turns on his heels, carefully keeping you perched on his arm and listening to you laugh at the unusual way to travel.

As you near everyone else, you both get a few looks of confusion, some of jealousy, and one from Belphie that lets you know that whatever just happened was all according to his plans. Of course, it was. The youngest brother couldn't go a day without planning something. At least it wasn't nefarious this time.

"I'm glad you both decided to join us." Lucifer said, glance drifting from Beel you, "Do you need help getting down?"

You debate for a moment of you can get down by yourself. You figure Beel would set you down if you asked, but that's not as fun as having to make Lucifer reach up to you for once, "Please?"

Stepping forward, the eldest brother places his hands against your waist and slowly lifts you back to the ground. As your feet touch the dirt below, he notices the flower in your hair, placing a gloved hand under your chin and lifting your head so he can get a better look at it.

"Yes?" You ask, wondering what he could be thinking about.

"Nothing." He bends down at the waist and presses his lips against yours, his tongue quickly assaulting your own and making your head swim before pulling away, "You look beautiful."

The haze is short-lived as he pulls away and you can only admonish him, "Lucifer! This is a group date. None of that." Quick kisses and pecks were one thing, but trying to rile you up was off-limits.

The grin that crosses his face is fully aware of what he did, but uncaring because he got what he wanted, "Of course." Even if you complained, the goal was that he wouldn't be outdone by his younger brother in your eyes. Of course, some of the others saw through him, but the only opinion that mattered on the issue was yours.

Asmo took the opportunity to skip up to you from behind and wrap his arm around your own, "Sit next to me, Darling~" He tugged at you gently to try and lead you to a spot on the blanket.

Of course, he was the first one to actually ask you to sit with them. He had no compunctions over trying to get you to pick him first and foremost. He would respect your boundaries, but he still wanted you as much as everyone else.

"Gladly." You let him guide you to the blanket and sat down where he indicated. That still left your other side open though. You pay the spot next to you and looked up, "Levi? Will you join me?"

His orange eyes sparkled so much that it almost looked like he was going to cry. Why would you ever choose a disgusting otaku like him? That was probably what he was thinking. That was also exactly why you had to explicitly choose him. You loved him as much as the rest of his brothers, but he didn't seem to believe you. Every now and again, he needed a reminder that you had chosen him just as much as anyone else.

He gladly sat on your other side and the rest of the brothers fell into different places around the small banquet. Beel looked uncomfortable as he was forced to only look at the food in front of him. Belphie, ever the good brother, passed him an entire basket of food and told him to start with that while everyone else took the chance to grab from the pile in the middle. That basket lasted about as long as it took everyone to make their first plate.

"We brought wine if you would like." Satan held up the deep red, unopened bottle for you to see.

You looked at him skeptically, "Didn't we learn that I can't handle that stuff already?" That was kind of how this entire mess started in the first place. Not that you regretted it in the long run, even if it was a nightmare to deal with at the time.

He shook his head, "This is from the human realm. At least, I assume you have some tolerance for it." Although, none of the brothers would mind another incident like the one from that night. In retrospect, some of them found the memory endearing and were mildly curious how much further it could go now that you weren't confused about your feelings anymore.

But... this wine wouldn't do that to you, "Please pour a glass." It really was the ideal of a picnic date. Not that anything about this date was traditional, but it was definitely your ideal. There was nothing better than just getting to spend a day with your boyfriends and enjoying each of them. They really did find ways to spoil you and make you so very happy that this was your life now.

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years ago

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 10

A/N: y’all ever think about that one empires episode of pearl’s where she helps sausage fight off a raid and that turns into a pvp battle between them, and she absolutely destroys him? yeah me too. also check out this awesome art by @amostfoolishgold! anyway back to jimmy pov!

Warnings: injury, unconsciousness, fevers, talk of death, violence, corruption/infection, self-blame

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting the Overgrown in a golden glow. The castle was beginning to take shape, but they had unfortunately run low on materials, and Joel and Lizzie weren’t back from their gathering trip yet. So for the moment, they all just sat in the half-constructed shell of a castle, having light conversation as they waited for Joel and Lizzie to arrive. But soon enough, the conversation dwindled into an awkward silence. That is, until Gem stood up with a determined look in her eyes and a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we head to my empire for dinner? We’ve been working hard all day and could use a break!” she said brightly. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about Gem quite yet, after everything that had happened- but she and Pearl had been a huge help. Meanwhile Shelby looked intrigued by the offer, and while Katherine first nervously glanced to the horizon, she looked back to Gem with a smile.

“That is very kind of you, Gem. I’d love to- we should probably just leave a note for Joel and Lizzie to let them know where we’ve gone,” Katherine said, standing up as well. Gem looked to Jimmy semi-nervously- and well, Jimmy was always a bit of a softie, wasn’t he? He smiled at Gem and stood up too.

“That does sound nice, thank you for inviting us,” Jimmy said. Gem beamed, and Pearl looked relieved as she stood up next to Gem.

“Well, you definitely won’t see me complaining about free food!” Shelby chimed in, hopping up to her feet. That caused the group to break into laughter, and the air between them felt comfortable again.

Once Katherine had written the note and put it where Lizzie and Joel could easily find it, the five of them (minus Pearl, who had wings) equipped their elytra and flew off to the Crystal Cliffs. When they first arrived there, everything seemed normal. The grand cliffs themselves, the buildings nestled in and around them, the towers- it was a beautiful and mystical place. But there was something blue, white, and gold that stood out in a heap on the ground near one of the buildings- a very familiar something blue, white and gold.

“Oh my god-” Gem started, landing on the ground beside the figure.

“Is that-” Pearl said, unable to finish the thought as she landed just behind Gem.

“Scott?” Jimmy finished, voice shaking as he came in for a bit of an unsteady landing a few feet away from where Scott laid on the ground, breathing shallow and upon a closer look, something red pulsing and spreading beneath his skin like some sort of vine. Jimmy barely registered Katherine and Shelby landing on either side of him, too focused on what was before him.

“This- this red stuff reminds me of the redstone spikes in Fwhip’s empire- or maybe something from the nether?” Gem pondered as she knelt beside Scott, a purple glow coming over her hand as she reached out towards the infection in his arm.

“I’ve seen that before,” Shelby said, voice sounding distant and laced with horror. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised to hear such a terrified tone of voice from the usually enthusiastic gnome.

“The infection?” Pearl asked.

“The corruption. I’ve seen it happen to my people back home, until it consumed them until there was nothing left- it’s why I came here, to try and find a cure or some way to stop it. But nothing worked,” Shelby explained shakily, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Jimmy felt like he was going to cry too- and some awful part of himself thought that he should be glad that this happened to Scott, that it served him right after betraying Jimmy and breaking his heart- but he couldn’t. Despite everything Scott had done, despite never wanting to see Scott again- none of that meant that Jimmy didn’t want a world where the winged elf wasn’t in it. And what about what Pearl had said? Scott didn’t seem happy with Fwhip either, but now Jimmy would never know the truth. Not if it died with Scott.

Jimmy was so wrapped up in his conflicted mess of emotions that he didn’t even notice that someone else had flown in until Katherine let out a sharp gasp. He tore his gaze away from Scott to see what had caused that reaction from Katherine- and saw Fwhip. A mix of anger and terror boiled in his veins and swirled in his stomach at the sight of him. Fwhip looked baffled to see so many people in Gem’s empire, and plastered on a forced friendly smile. Jimmy’s hand found Katherine’s, and she squeezed it back tightly with no intention of letting go.

“Gem! Hi, so I wanted to smooth things over- I think we left things on a bad note-”

“What did you do to Scott,” Gem demanded, cutting off Fwhip as she stood up from beside Scott. Purple sparks danced in the air around her, and Jimmy swallowed nervously- he didn’t think he had ever seen Gem seem so intimidating before. Jimmy was relieved to see that Fwhip looked nervous too.

“Well, I haven’t seen Scott since our meeting, he seemed upset when he left- weird that he ended up here- y’know I was actually gonna go and talk to him after you-”

“If by talk, you mean do whatever you did to Scott to us?!” Pearl demanded, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward to stand beside Gem.

“I didn’t-”

“I’ve had enough of your lies, Fwhip. What. Did. You. Do,” Gem said evenly. Fwhip swallowed nervously, before sighing and finally giving in.

“Okay, so I may have set a few traps in his empire and got Sausage to help me with letting a raid infiltrate his village and the surrounding lands- but I figured Scott could handle a few traps and some mobs, it was only meant to be a warning, I never meant to kill him! He must have really gotten soft if he couldn’t deal with it,” Fwhip rambled. Gem and Pearl seemed semi-satisfied with his answer, but Pearl kept her hand on her sword and purple sparks still danced around Gem. But there was something that Fwhip said that bothered Jimmy, and along with what Pearl had said… guilt was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimmy asked tentatively. Fwhip let out a harsh laugh, turning to Jimmy incredulously.

“The idiot actually fell for you. He was just supposed to be a distraction, a contingency plan to make sure you wouldn’t be trouble. But he got in too deep, and look where that got him,” Fwhip scoffed, looking down at Scott’s deathly still form in disdain. Guilt was crashing on Jimmy in waves now. He had pushed Scott away. Scott had actually cared about him and he pushed him away. And then he had no one to go to for help when Fwhip decided to send a “warning” and got hurt as a result.

“You’re lucky I’m a pacifist,” Katherine spat, more angry than Jimmy had ever heard her. He wished he could have shared her anger, shouted at Fwhip too- but Jimmy just felt numb.

“Well unluckily for Fwhip, I don’t have that problem,” Pearl fumed, drawing her sword. Fwhip started to scramble back as Pearl leapt at him. His backwards stumble turned into a run, and Pearl kept pace with him just fine, using her wings if necessary and brandishing her sword to chase him away.

“Pearl can handle him- can you three help me get Scott to the apothecary? I’d do it by myself, but he’s tall and there’s the bulk of his wings to worry about too,” Gem asked, looking down at Scott worriedly.

“Erm- right, of course,” Jimmy said, letting go of Katherine’s hand to join Gem at Scott’s side.

“Hold on- go to the other side and help me turn him over,” Gem said. Jimmy did as she asked, and being mindful of his wings, the two of them gently rolled Scott over so he was on his back. Scott was feverish to the touch, and even unconscious his expression was contorted with pain.

“He’s hot,” Jimmy said, distant horror in his tone.

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jimmy,” Gem teased, trying to lessen the tension in the air. Jimmy’s face scrunched up in irritation as he half-heartedly glared at her.

“He has a fever, Gem,” Jimmy huffed. Gem laughed nervously.

“I know, I know, just trying to make this less terrible than it is,” Gem sighed. Jimmy gave her a weak smile, and together the two of them gently lifted Scott up. Jimmy ended up mostly holding Scott, while Gem supported his wings. Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder, labored breaths fanning his neck. Jimmy should have felt embarrassed or flustered, cradling Scott like this- but he was too concerned with how limp and unresponsive Scott felt in his arms.

“I’ll get the doors for you!” Shelby offered, quickly making her way over to the apothecary door. Katherine hovered around Jimmy and Gem semi-anxiously, making sure that they had a good hold on Scott as they made their way over to the apothecary. But all went well, and they were able to safely transport Scott into one of the apothecary beds. He had begun to shiver and tremble every so often now, and Jimmy could have sworn the corruption had spread, reaching his fingertips.

“There’s gotta be a way to stop that, or at least slow it down,” Gem murmured in thought, pulling up a chair to sit at Scott’s side. She reached out to the cut where the corruption on Scott’s arm stemmed from, hand glowing purple again. She closed her hand over it, and her eyes began to glow the same purple as her hand. But then the glow flickered, turning red for a moment before it dissipated entirely and Gem drew her hand back with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of her seat beside Scott’s bed. Jimmy scrambled over to help her up, eyes darting nervously between her and Scott.

“Is everything alright? I chased Fwhip off, but I swear if he’s done something in here…” Pearl trailed off as she walked into the apothecary, eyes zeroing on Gem as she rubbed at her temples.

“I’m fine. The corruption- it fought back. It’s… alive, somehow,” Gem said with morbid curiosity in her tone.

“It’s a type of fungus. That’s as much as my people could figure out before I came here to try and find a cure. The red stuff is everywhere in my old home- even if you tried to get rid of it, it would just come back. And in the cases where it latched onto a person… there was no getting it out,” Shelby explained, sounding like she was going to cry. Gem hummed thoughtfully.

“Did you try any sort of magic with it?” she asked.

“No, my people were not magic-users- in fact I’d hardly seen magic before I came here, where the air seems charged with the stuff,” Shelby replied, gesturing around her. A determined expression came over Gem’s face.

“Then I’m not gonna stop trying. I don’t know if I can fully fight off the corruption, but I definitely think I can slow its spread. In the meantime, we’re gonna need to get Scott’s fever down- at this rate, that’ll kill him before the corruption will,” Gem said, resting the back of her hand on Scott’s forehead and frowning.

“He’s probably a little beat-up too- Fwhip did say he trapped his empire,” Katherine added. Gem nodded in agreement.

“We’ll need cool water and cloth to make a compress for his forehead- and I should have some healing potions around here- it couldn’t hurt to brew some more though too, just in case,” Gem rambled, starting to stand up before Pearl put up a hand.

“You two stay here with Scott, I know where you keep things around here. Katherine, Shelby and I can worry about getting things for you,” she soothed. Jimmy tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, I can help get things too…” Jimmy trailed off uncertainly.

“You can help if you want. I just figured you’d wanna stick by Scott,” Pearl shrugged with a gentle smile. Jimmy flushed slightly as he looked down at the floor, away from Pearl’s knowing stare.

“I… yeah. I’ll stick by Scott,” he said softly, gaze shifting to look at the winged elf who always managed to make his emotions into a muddled mess. Scott was an enemy, a friend, a- a something, then an enemy again- but whatever Scott was to Jimmy now, he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting Scott out of his sight again. Doing so the last time caused this to happen. He had to be there if- no, when Scott woke up. He had to apologize for pushing him away, and hope that maybe Scott still cared about him after everything that had happened to accept it.

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shubble #katherine elizabeth #fwhip #flower husbands #aiahs #mcyt #sage writes

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years ago

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You Don’t Know My Name II Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You are madly in love with Draco Malfoy but he doesn’t know you exist. Until the sixth year.

A/N: okay, I’ve tried uploading this two times already. Let’s see if it works this time. Also - I hope you enjoy it! It’s just a little something I wrote today. <3

Words: 3.5k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: none

Draco Malfoy doesn’t know who you are.

It’s ironic really. You are a Slytherin after all, a pureblood, and in the same Year as him. You go to the same parties, you share the same common room, and his best friend Blaise helps you study from time to time. Yet, Draco Malfoy doesn’t know you.

Sometimes you wonder if it’s because of your family. Maybe they are too poor or their jobs not as high-ranking enough. Everyone knows the name ‘Lucius Malfoy’. Nobody knows the name of your father. Or is it simply because of you? Do boys like Draco Malfoy don’t look at girls like you?

It’s probably the latter. You come the conclusion one night in the common room when he sits together with his friends after the Second Trial in the Triwizard Tournament. You make yourself comfortable at a table nearby, looking up from your homework from time to time – and then you see it: the look he gives Pansy Parkinson when she tries to make a joke but can’t finish it properly because she’s laughing too hard. He looks at her the same way you gaze up into the night sky – so full of admiration – and he starts joining in her laughter even though no one understands what she’s saying.

It hurts. It hurts so bad, you accidentally bite down on your tongue. However, at the same time it makes sense. How can anyone not fall in love with Pansy? She’s gorgeous with her long brown hair, falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and her skinny, toned figure that stems from all the Quidditch training. When she gazes at Draco, it is crystal clear that she likes him. That she looks up to him. And everyone knows, she’s exactly the type of girl Draco needs. Of course, he doesn’t notice someone like you.

However, you notice him. You noticed him on the first day of Hogwarts, right after they sorted you into Slytherin and sat down next to the blonde boy who congratulated you. The first and only words he ever spoke to you. You fell for Draco right then and there and the feelings linger on until today.

“Why do you even like him that much?”, a friend once asked you. “He’s a bully.”

“He’s not,” you protested. “He cares about his friends.”

She snorted. “He’s only nice to like … four people. The rest of us he ignores. Thank Merlin, we’re in Slytherin and not Gryffindor. Wouldn’t want to switch with Granger when he’s out for blood again.”

You rolled your eyes. Deep down in your heart, you knew back then that she was right. But also saw something else in him. You still do when you watch him on that couch tonight with Blaise, joking about something his father wrote to him in a letter.

Draco Malfoy cares. You are certain of that. He cares about the people he loves, and you believe that he would die for every single one of them in a heartbeat. It’s clear in the way, he casually touches their arms when he tells them a story. Or how his eyes light up when they congratulate him on a good game of Quidditch. Or how he jumps to their defense when a teacher confronts them about forgotten homework, lying on the spot, all so they don’t get in trouble. You don’t argue with your friend when she calls him a bully though. His words can be mean and disgusting and the way he treats muggleborn classmates leaves you speechless every time. There is no excuse. However, you believe there is a reason. Sometimes you wonder if the reason is his father. Or why else does Draco flinch whenever Mr. Malfoy reaches for him?

No, you are convinced that Draco Malfoy cares about his friends. Sadly, they are only a select few. You do not belong to them.

“Draco,” the high-pitched scream brings you back into reality. Draco had pulled Pansy into his lap and she giggles as he tickles her. Blaise wiggles his eyebrows at Theo, both of them sharing knowing glances.

You want to hate Pansy. You really do. But how can you when she has only ever been nice to you? She’s sweet and funny and your favorite partner in Potions because she is – on top of all that – really fucking smart. Pansy Parkinson is not someone you can ever hate. In fact, a part of you wishes her well and hopes that she finds happiness with Draco. She deserves it. They deserve each other.

You close your book and put it into your bag, together with the quill and ink. Maybe studying in the library will cause less distractions.

***

Seasons change and years fly by. Only your feelings for Draco stay the same.

You watch him get together with Pansy and then break up again. It is a nasty sight to see for everyone around them. They fight and scream at each other in the common room, only to kiss and make up a few weeks later. This happens a few times until they finally decide to stay friends. For some magical reason, it works. You guess, they didn’t find happiness in each other after all.

Pansy goes on a few dates with an older Slytherin and Draco finds interest in Astoria. Oddly enough, she’s the younger sister of your friend Daphne. She is shy, clever, and pretty. And now you are subject to long rants about him when she barges into your dorm once again, in desperate needs of advice from her sister. At times you wonder if Daphne knows about your feelings. She sends you sympathetic glances every time Astoria talks about him in front of you and tries to change the conversation when you approach them. You never say a word to her about it though.

Eventually they break up as well but not before the rumor reaches you that she is meant to be his betrothed after school. You swallow when you hear that and try to forget it.

***

It’s the sixth year when something changes. Something about him.

You notice it for the first time in the Hogwarts Express when he makes a comment about jumping off the Astronomy Tower and not finishing school. It is strange enough that even Daphne shoots you a confused glance and raises her eyebrows.

Draco becomes quiet over the next months. You don’t see him around that often anymore. He stays away from his friends, dodges their questions at meals. He doesn’t react when Weasley says something stupid in class and keeps forgetting his homework. His grades plummet and even Professor McGonagall asks him if he’s feeling alright when he can’t answer her questions. He says yes and tells her, he isn’t sleeping well at the moment.

You believe him. The circles underneath his eyes grow darker with every passing day and his skin is paler than usual. Whenever he sits down somewhere, he keeps tapping on the surfaces. Strange, fast rhythms and he chews on his lips as if he is trying to figure out a secret. That behavior stops after the Christmas break. The tapping changes to empty stares. He doesn’t lie to his friends anymore instead he shoves them away and tells them to leave him alone.

You worry. So fucking much that you can’t sleep at night. Your eyes keep searching for him in class and you wish to be brave enough to go up and ask him what’s wrong. Not that you expect any kind of answer. He will probably look at you with confusion before turning his back on you. Who are you, a stranger, to talk to him in that way? No, you aren’t in any position to reach out to him and you keep telling yourself that. Instead, you don’t say a word and lower your gaze when your eyes accidentally lock from across the room.

***

“Did you hear? Potter tried to kill Malfoy.”

Your books crash down on the ground. The Ravenclaw, a boy you know from your Transfiguration class, who had just said this to a friend of his, quickly bends down. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“Thank you,” you mumble distraught as he hands them back to you. “What did you just say?”

The boy frowns. “Let me –”

“No,” you say impatiently. “About Potter.”

“Oh.” The confusion doesn’t vanish from his face. “I thought all the Slytherins knew already.”

“I was in the library the whole day, what happened?” Slowly, you become annoyed. Why was this so hard to get out of him?

“Something went down in Myrtle’s bathroom,” the Ravenclaw explains when he sees the anger flashing in your eyes. “Apparently Potter tried to kill Malfoy. He’s badly hurt and –”

It’s all you need to know. Without another word, you begin to hurry down the hall and then sprint down the stairs.

“Hey!”, you hear the boy call out from behind you. “It’s probably only a rumor!”

***

It’s not a rumor. You know it when you see Blaise and Pansy standing together, whispering, nervously glancing over their shoulders. Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest and a cold fear creeped up inside of you.

Potter tried to kill Malfoy.

What does that even mean? Is he dead? No, then the boy would have worded it differently. Then Narcissa Malfoy would already be here, raising hell. But is he hurt? How badly? Did they transfer him to St. Mungos already?

“He’ll be fine,” Daphne greets you when you barge into your shared dorm. You drop the books on your bed and turn to her. “He’ll be fine,” she repeats.

Slowly, her words fight their way through the fog that clouded your mind. Your breathing calmed down and you closed your eyes for a second.

“Where is he?”

“The hospital wing, he – hey, wait!”, she calls out as you make your way to the door again with long strides.

“What?”, you ask her.

“Where are you going?”

You furrow your brows. “To the hospital.”

“Why?”, she wants to know. The question startles you.

“Because …,” you begin but fail to find the right words.

Daphne lets out a soft sigh and smiles sadly at you. The pity in her eyes makes you want to punch her. “Astoria was there already,” she says. “He’s badly hurt but Madame Pomfrey can fix him up. He’ll be out of the hospital wing by tomorrow.”

You blink.

He’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine and that’s all that matters. He’s also badly hurt. The same rush of panic from before flows through you and you nervously shift from one foot to another.

“Is he alone right now?” You can’t bring yourself to look at Daphne.

“Yes,” she replies.

“I should go.”

“Why? He doesn’t even want his friends there let alone …”, she trails off but you know exactly how the sentence would have ended.

… let alone me.

Because why on earth would he want to see? You have a crush on him for almost seven years now, so what? A few girls probably do and even so – you are a coward. Not once in seven damn years did you try and talk to him. Always too shy, always hiding behind excuses. Instead, you watch him fall in love with other girls from afar. Pathetic.

And now he’s hurt. He’s hurt and alone and he could’ve died – and you would regret not saying anything for years.

Regret. You will regret it.

The realization hit you like a brick wall. You will regret it if you don’t stop acting like this. Pining over him from far away. Merlin, do you really want to spend the remaining time in school this way?

The answer is no.

***

The hospital wing is empty except for the bed Draco lays in.

You had marched out of your dorm with confidence and hope, ignoring Daphne’s pleas for you to just stay with her, but as soon as you push open the doors all of that leaves you. What are you thinking? What are you doing here? You hesitate.

You see him lying at the end of the rows of beds. Close to Madame Pomfreys office. A few candles flicker, dimly illuminating the room. You squint your eyes, trying to see if Draco had notice you coming in. No. He is asleep as far as you can tell.

Slowly and almost on your toes, you walk up to him. His eyes are closed but even while sleeping, he doesn’t look peaceful. The line between his eyebrows is deep and he grips onto the sheets. He’s not in his school uniform anymore, instead he is wearing a black suit. How utterly uncomfortable, you think. You don’t see any wounds on him. Has Madame Pomfrey fixed him up already?

A sigh leaves your mouth, and you lean against the bed behind you, watching him for a while. Even though you are happy to see him alive and mostly well, the feeling of worry doesn’t leave the pit of your stomach. Something is wrong. Very, very wrong. Has been for a while now.

After a few more minutes, you get up and turn around to leave, disappointed about your failed mission. However, you don’t bring yourself to wake him up. Maybe tomorrow, you think, maybe tomorrow before class.

“Y/N.”

At first, you believe you imagined it. Or if it was your name that he said at all. Maybe he had just mumbled something in his sleep and your hopeful brain mistook it for more than it was. Still, you stop and listen.

“Y/N.”

This time it’s louder and very clearly not part of your imagination. Slowly, as if you are dreaming, you turn around.

Draco is awake. His eyes are open and he looks at you, irritated. Your heart begins to pump faster again as you stare at him.

“Why are you here?”, he asks after a few seconds. Good question.

You blink. “Uhm, I …,” you stammer, “I … how are you?”

“Alive,” he replies. He tries to sit up and hisses in pain. You suppress the urge to reach forward and help him. “Doesn’t answer my question though.”

“Right,” you agree and step closer. This is the longest conversation you ever had with Draco. “It does, actually,” you then argue, “I wanted to see how you were doing?”

“Why?”

The question confuses you. “You’re hurt.”

“So?”

“It’s the decent thing to do,” you state matter-of-factly.

“None of my friends came by.” He looks down as he says this, and you realize that this probably hurt way more than any physical wound. Your heart breaks for him.

“Astoria did,” you say in a soft voice.

“Huh,” he scoffs. “Must have been unconscious still.”

There is an awkward pause between the two of you. He stares at his blanket, his fingers playing with the edge of it. “Well, thanks,” he finally mumbles. “I’ll go back to sleep then.”

“Right,” you nod quickly. “Right, of course. You should get some sleep.”

He nods as well.

You turn around and just as you lift your foot to start walking, you realize that you haven’t told him what you came here for in the first place. You set your foot back down and look at him.

“You know my name.” It’s less of a question than you intended.

Draco looks up, taken aback by the question, and frowns. “Of course.”

“Why?”

“We’re in the same year.”

“The last time you spoke to me was in first grade.”

“So?”, he raises an eyebrow and for a second a glance of the old Draco is visible. Only for a second though.

“I just thought …”, you trailed off.

“I know every Slytherins name.” Draco pauses and adds: “Especially from the girls who have crushes on me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your eyes widen at the statement. Oh fuck. He knows? Not only did he know your name, but he is aware of your feelings for him? You wish for hole to open up beneath you and swallow.

Draco only smirks. A sad, bitter version of his usual smirk. “It was a little obvious.”

“Oh Merlin,” you let out a deep breath. “Oh, this is humiliating.”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head, “if anything, I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, right,” you bury your face in your hands. “Oh, oh, you probably made fun of me all those years, oh, why am I so stupid, why –”

“Stop it, Y/L/N,” Draco suddenly demands. The sharp tone in his voice made you snap your head at him. “Sorry,” he sighed.

There’s another pause between the two of you. You still wish for the hole to appear. If he knew … all this time … that meant …

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, the words tumble out of your mouth, but you know the answer already.

The look on his face confirms your guess. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

You nod, slowly, trying to swallow down the sharp pain in your chest. You look up to the ceiling and blink a few times. You’ll be damned if you cry in front of Draco Malfoy. “Ouch, well, …”

“It’s not because I don’t think you’re clever or funny or beautiful,” he adds and his words sound sincere. However, you know what a perfect liar he can be.

You force a smile. “Right, no need to console me.”

Draco scoffs. “Do I look like someone who’d say something like that to console another person?”

You give him a half shrug and he looks a little insulted.

“I meant it,” he looks at you and adds after a moment of hesitation: “I noticed you this year.”

“Did you now,” you mumble.

“Yes”, his voice was unusually soft. “You kept looking at me. I don’t know, it was nice to see that someone still cared.”

You look at him and your eyes lock. The pain in his almost cause you to gasp. “I’m worried,” is all that you manage to say.

He smiles. It’s not a smirk. A smile. A sad one, but still. “I can’t tell you.”

Of course, he can’t. “I figured.”

Draco sighs and pulls the blanket up a little higher. “You should go now, Y/N.”

“Right, right.” You feel tears coming up again. Although, you are a little surprised by how well you composed yourself. After almost seven years of yearning, you expected to react a little heavier when he turned you down. You guess, the reaction would come as soon as you are out of eyes and ears. Maybe in your room. Hopefully not in front of Daphne. You can’t deal with a ‘told you so’ tonight. “I, well, I got what I came here for, I guess.”

“Wrong time,” another smile for you. “Maybe when it’s all over we could … go out some time.”

The phrasing of that sentence throws you off more than the suggestion ever could. You furrow your brows. “When it’s all over?”

He tenses up for a second before he replies: “School, I mean.”

The frown stays on your face. “What a weird way to say that.”

Draco doesn’t reply. A strange fear replaces the pain from the rejection. The same fear that creeps up in you whenever you think about is behavior. Something is wrong. Very wrong. Just when you open your mouth, he says: “Promise me something, alright?”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Stay down in your room tonight. No matter what you hear.” He doesn’t look at you.

“Why?”

“Just promise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Draco? Why do you want me –”

“I can’t say,” he hisses, and you flinch. He looks at you, distraught and there it was again – the fear. So clearly visible on his face. His voice softens a little when he speaks again: “Just promise me. Please.”

“Alright. Fine,” you take a step back. What is going on with him? What is happening tonight? Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“Thank you.” He sounds relieved.

You take a step back. And a second one. Suddenly, you want to leave this room. Quickly. “I’ll see you in class then,” you mutter. “Tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you then,” he replies but you are already on your way out. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Draco.” You don’t look back and your steps speed up as you walk towards the wooden door. Just when you are about to close them behind you, do you look at Draco one last time.

He still leans against the bed frame but doesn’t pay his attention to you. Instead, he stares at his arm. You squeeze your eyes as you try to figure out what he was doing – his sleeves are rolled up and he stares at the skin underneath them. Then suddenly, he tilts his arm. Just a little – but far enough for you to see.

You gasp and step back, letting the door fall shut in front of you.

“No”, you whisper to yourself, “no, it’s not real. It’s not real.”

It can’t be real. Because what else, if not a figment of your imagination, can the Dark Mark on his left arm be?

***

A/N: Thank you for reading! <3

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Tag List: @writerdee1701, @zpandaqueen, @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @nobleking, @harpersmariano, @dracos-slut, @destiels-assbutt13, @justmesadgirl, @bbeautyybbx , @dracomalfoyswifey, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @beiahadid, @lavenderblossom12

(also tagging @dracosathenaeum and @musicalmuffindog1410 even though you’re not on my general taglist, but I think you’d like this <3) If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know or use this form! <3

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #astrids fics #Draco malfoy

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hpalways · 4 years ago

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Spice and Tea || Zhongli

EVERYTHING seemed to be much grander in the city of Liyue Harbor. The tall, towering structures were built from an endless budget of mora, glistening in the darkness. Golden-amber lights shown from each building, they were nearly blinding, but so beautiful. It were these very details that made the city so popular with the tourists... though it was a rather different matter for those who resided here. Besides the fact, these colors reminded you of something — no, someone.

This someone was currently in front of you, his tall figure leading you through the streets. His long, ebony hair swishing in a ponytail behind him, the soft-looking strands almost slapped you in the face several times. He then glanced back at you, his golden hues digging into your soul. “Are you alright? You look quite out of it,” he observed.

Blinking for a few seconds, you cleared your throat and quickly nodded. “I am? I didn’t realize.”

Actually, it wasn’t too surprising that you were. The memory of Zhongli telling you that he was the Geo God was resurfacing. No matter how much time you had to process all of this, you could never truly grasp it. A god? How could someone like him... be something so impressive? But the evidence was there. From the way he looked to the way he acted, his entire being symbolized the city.

You first acquainted him when you found him lingering around your stall, curious of the herbs and spices that were laid out for sale. Dressed in exquisite clothing in multiple shades of brown, you assumed he was someone of high status. Intimidated by him immediately, you steered clear of him and only spoke when he had any inquires. His voice low and calm, he turned out to be really philosophical. His knowledge of the herbs you tended to was profound, and you couldn't help but be in awe. When he finally decided to buy something, it left you dumbstruck. He didn't have mora on himself. How could someone not have mora on themselves?! He was a mystery to you.

Chasing him away for making a fool out of yourself, you couldn't believe you wasted time on him. However, that wasn't the last time you saw him. He visited a few times a week, coming without mora as always. To this, you were supposed to kick him out, for he provided no business. But deep down inside, you had no heart to do so, not when he looked so passionate talking about mundane things like herbs. Listening to him speak left you at ease, so a smile would take place on your lips more often.

So here you were now. The two of you developed a closer relationship throughout the weeks. Yet, the news of Zhongli as a god seemingly complicated things. Why would he spend time with a mere mortal being like you? You were nothing compared to him, a speck of dust within his years. In no time, he would forget you... and the thought of that hurt.

Brushing those thoughts away, you decided it was best to enjoy this moment with him. The future was unknown, concerning the two of you, but worrying would only add wrinkles onto your face. Speeding up your pace, you were side by side with the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. He rose his eyebrows, sending you a soft smile that left you flustered.

"Why do we have to go to a teahouse when I already have herbs to make tea out of?" you complained. "I'll be the one spending my mora too."

He blinked in surprise. He always did this when someone brought up the currency, as if he didn't realize mora existed. "Oh, that's right. The tea is going to cost pretty expensive," he said, humming. He looked unbothered, knowing he was a total parasite to you. Damn, if he was a god, couldn't he at least create some mora and have you become rich?

The teahouse was coming into view, the homely building wide and spacious. Strolling through the front door, you were led to a table for two. Sitting yourself down in front of Zhongli, you watched as he professionally scanned through the menu.

"Do you have any preferences?" he asked you. "If not, I know a good one. It's refreshing and has this distinct taste that never fails to reduce stress. After all, a lot happened today, did it not?"

He was correct in that. Today, the newest stocks for your spices didn't deliver on time, because the wagon fell into the ditch. This was a great annoyance to your day, but you decided to go check on it, in exchange that you would get your products safely. What you didn't know was that the wagon had ran into hilichurls earlier, who still lingered there when you arrived at the scene of crime. Ambushed by the creatures, it was thought you were to meet your end when someone saved you in time. It was no other than the Geo God himself, the very one sitting across from you at this moment.

This encounter had struck more doubts within you. The difference in strength and power between you and Zhongli was out of this world. You were so weak, but he slashed those monsters dead with a few hits. It made you wonder if it was better if he didn't need know you; you were such a nuisance for him, someone not worth of his time.

"Thank you for saving me back then," you said for the millionth time already. "I guess paying for the tea shouldn't be a big deal, since I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you."

"It was a pleasure saving you. You are my favorite merchant, after all." He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned on the back of the chair, looking pleased with himself. A staff member approached the table and he went to order tea. Once they were gone, the consultant leaned forward, gazing intently at you. His gloved hand lifted from beneath and was placed on top of your head. Stroking your [h/c] locks endearingly, he was throwing you off drastically. He was never this affectionate. "Go get some rest after this. Don't go back to the market -- it should be closing soon anyway."

Much to your disappointment, he removed his hand when a teapot was set in the middle. Porcelain tea cups were stacked beside it, ready to be used. Elegantly reaching for them, he poured the steamy liquid into the fragile cups, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.

Patiently blowing into the tea, you took a sip and melted at the taste of it. He was right; this was almost enough to erase all your worries away.

"This citrus and honey scent stemming from it... it reminds me of you, [Y/N]," he said softly. His lashes lowered, showcasing how long and dark they were. Beautiful. Why was he so beautiful? "Soothing and warm. You allowed me at your stall when no else did. You became a haven, if I dare say." He sipped his tea and let out a content sigh. "Most relationships I've had with others were bounded through contracts. Although, with you, there is none and I still find myself returning to see you. Is this the meaning of sentiment then?"

You were thoroughly unprepared with his words. He kept surprising you today. Was he somehow affected by the near death experience you had today? That couldn't possibly be true. "I-I don't know," you choked out.

It was silent for the next few minutes. Averting your eyes away from him, you buried your face into your cup, gulping down the rest of its contents. Now empty, you hurried to pour in more tea, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. Meanwhile, his features were passive to the point it was unreadable. What was he thinking about?

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked bluntly. Your shoulders stiffening, you quickly shook your head in denial. "I see. And yes, to see you almost dying, it frightened me. I couldn't bear to lose you." Your mouth parted in shock. Did he somehow read your mind?

But his words... they touched you, making tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Blinking them away, you gulped and fixed your posture self-consciously. He truly cared about you.

Before you could stop yourself, you summoned up the courage to voice the question that had been on your mind all night long. "Will you forget me someday?"

He chuckled in amusement, shaking his head afterwards. Reaching for your hand, he guided it to the side of his face. His skin soft and smooth under your fingertips, the feeling of it sent your heart racing. His crimson bangs brushed you, tingles erupting on your tender skin. He nuzzled himself into the crook of your palm, fluttering his eyes shut. "Never. You will be thought of during every tea I drink, every herb I analyze, every merchant I meet, and every hilichurl I fight. Memories with you will be cherished forever... so don't go forgetting me either."

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thatslikely · 4 years ago

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Detention - D.M.

Detention- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (gryffindor)

Warnings: none! just more fluff <3

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: A fun Draco fic with an enemies to lovers type of situation! I’m really happy with how this one turned out and I hope you guys enjoy it too! I’m definitely going to make a Seeker part 2 so don’t worry, but I also have a George Weasley x Reader idea in the works too! Please feel free to send me your feedback (and you can always send me an ask or message for the taglist).

Just a Reminder: Y/N is Your Name

----

“Detention! For both of you!” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang loudly through her office. The countless living paintings that speckled the candle-lit stone walls shook at her declaration.

She disappointedly looked at you before marking your name on a piece of parchment that lay on the desk in front of her. You felt guilty that you had forced your favorite professor (and the head of your house) to give you a detention. Especially detention in the Forbidden Forest with none other than Draco Malfoy.

You couldn’t even bear to look at the pouting Slytherin’s face beside you. It was his fault that you now had to spend your Saturday night roaming through the eerie trees of the Dark forest. If he hadn’t snatched your Charms essay mid-sentence then maybe you wouldn’t have shot a hex in his direction! Fortunately for him, however, your clever hex missed the mischievous Malfoy by a single blonde hair, and now poor Neville’s shoes are glued to the worn hardwood floors of the library.

Your forest escort arrived promptly. You were thankful Filch was busy with other duties, so one of your Gryffindor prefects was chosen instead. McGonagall sent your prefect a nod and as he signaled for the two of you to follow him, you finally made eye contact with Malfoy, shooting him a murderous glare. He quickly responded with a scowl before walking out the door and into the familiar hall towards the forest.

After several minutes of awkward silence, the three of you finally reached the inviting entrance of Hagrid’s hut. The warm glow emitting through the windows of the stone shack contrasted greatly against the clear, pitch-black sky.

Judging by the disgusted expression on Malfoy’s face, it was clear that he wasn’t fond of the half-giant or his home. Maybe Hagrid would be a little sympathetic for your cause, and you could get away early.

After a few moments, Hagrid emerged from his hut, a homemade wooden crossbow strung across his chest and a woven basket in hand. Fang sat lazily at his side, drool dripping from his snout. The groundskeeper tiredly said, “Tonight, you two’ll be searchin’ in the forest for some knotgrass. Once this basket ‘ere is full, yer free to go.”

Draco begrudgingly took the woven basket from Hagrid’s large hands with an eye roll. Shortly after a bit more detailed instructions from Hagrid, you and the blonde reluctantly embarked towards the winding dirt path leading into the woods. The only thing illuminating your late-night journey was the pearly full moon overhead and the small beams of light emitting from the ends of your wands.

You two walked through the spooky trees in silence, annoyed looks plastered on your faces. Once the both of you had been walking around with the irritatingly empty basket for a while, you finally asked with a grimace, “Do you even know what knotgrass looks like?”

“Of course, I know what knotgrass looks like. Do you take me for an idiot? Do I even have to remind you that I’m top of the class for Potions?” he spat, defensive and rude.

“How is your expansive Potions knowledge going to help us here in the middle of the Forbidden Forest? It’s your fault I’m even here in the first place!”

“My fault? Says the girl who nearly killed me after I so much as glanced at your pitiful Charms essay! You’re a bloody psycho!” His over-exaggerated recounting of what happened in the library would surely be a hit with his Slytherin worshippers, but not with you.

Instead of disputing his accusations, you tore the straw basket from his ring-adorned hands, hissing, “Fine. If I’m so insane, just leave me alone and let me collect it myself!” You turned the opposite direction, speeding up your pace, leaving Malfoy alone in the dark.

Draco stood, mouth agape, for a moment before quickly dashing up behind you, grabbing hold of your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going. I’m not gonna die in this stupid forest because of you! Give me that basket.”

He spun you around to face him, his grip on your wrist as tight as ever. His hand was cold and strong; the silver snake rings that wrapped around his fingers dug into your skin. You looked up into his captivating silver eyes, and for the first time, you didn’t see pure malice. The starlight made his eyes shine nicely, which you hated to admit.

Your gazes were interlocked for a few electric seconds, which felt like hours, before Draco raised his eyebrows in shock, realizing how close his face had gotten to yours. In one swift motion, he freed your arm from his grasp, and the basket was now in his control. He awkwardly turned away from you, simultaneously wiping his palm up and down his black robe. You caught a quick glance of his face, which was a pronounced shade of pink, visible even in the dim moonlight.

You noticed your breaths became heavier, and your cheeks were scorching hot. What just happened? you thought, why did that feel so… strange? Nothing should’ve felt different. It was just another irritating interaction with your Slytherin enemy. He’s just the same old spoiled brat.

You tried to get the intrusive thoughts of your strange interaction with Draco out of your head by focusing on finding the elusive plant. You weren’t too sure what it was supposed to look like, so after minutes of searching, you were left with a fistful of mismatched stems and leaves.

Once you couldn’t hold any more of the mismatched plants you had collected, you silently stepped behind the bent over Draco, reaching down to dump the stems in the basket which he firmly grasped at his side.

Draco, who was lost in thought, didn’t realize you were right behind him until a loud twig cracked right under your shoe as you were mere inches from the back of his head and the basket.

Frightened by the sudden noise, he hastily turned around with his hawthorn wand ready. Only, instead of being face to face with a rabid werewolf, his elbow was met harshly with your nose. You immediately recoiled from the Slytherin with a roaring yelp. You instinctively reached for your nose, where blood was slowly dripping out and onto the ground. Great.

While you were tilting your head back to alleviate the blood flow, Draco stared at you dumbfounded. The situation at hand eventually sunk in, and he ran to your side, his hand on your shoulder, concernedly. After you groaned in annoyance for a few seconds he asked, “Are you okay?”

You cocked an eyebrow, taken aback by his oddly sympathetic question. He quickly realized the tone of what he said, withdrawing his hand from your shoulder. With a significantly icier tone, he said, “You should’ve been more careful, Y/N.”

You embarrassedly turned away from Draco, ready to wipe off your blood-coated hands on your robe when you felt a timid tap on your shoulder. Draco stretched his arm to you, a white silk handkerchief with the initials D. L. M. embroidered in emerald green between his fingers. He kept his head turned sharply away from you, his nose in a scrunch.

You eyed his handsome punchable face suspiciously before you slowly accepted the handkerchief. Before you put it to your nose, you bluntly stated, “I’ll get blood on it, you know.”

“I’m not stupid, I know that. I gave you my cheap one, so keep it. Don’t want your filthy germs anyway.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t hexed your brains out yet,” you said with a sly smile.

He mimed himself looking mockingly scared at your comment, but a satisfactory smile soon crept onto his face at the sight of your nose softly pressed into the ivory silk. He was probably just glad to not hear you complain anymore.

----

The basket was nearly full of what you hoped were knotgrass stems, though it seemed your “expert Potions student” also couldn’t pinpoint the plants. Both of you had also grown very tired, out for what was probably hours. At long last, Draco plucked one final handful of leaves, making the basket full enough to your standards. You and Draco simultaneously let out a sigh of relief, finally being done with this grueling punishment.

Normally, post-detention, you would attempt to send Draco some of the Weasley twin’s dangerous concoctions for extra revenge, but he was being abnormally kind to you tonight, in his own Malfoy way. Plus, this night had taken a huge toll on you both; you don’t even know if you had the energy to still be mad at him.

The two of you slowly trudged back to Hagrid’s, a joyful feeling in your chest since this strange night was finally over. As you continued down the dimly-lit path, the platinum blonde who was previously at your side was nowhere to be seen. You assumed he had snuck up ahead, ready to jump out at you from behind one of the towering black trees. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d try to scare the hell out of you, to say the least.

You kept following the path, your eyes darting around at every noise. You were on high alert for your Slytherin rival, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you. The further down you went without seeing Draco though, the more nervous you got. Not just for the possibility of him scaring you, but for his safety. You’d heard so many horror stories about the Forbidden Forest you could probably write a book.

Finally, you mustered the courage to call for Draco. You repeatedly yelled “Draco!”, slightly louder every time you didn’t receive a response. Now you were really worried. He was your sworn enemy, sure, but you didn’t want him dead in the forest.

After more minutes of shouting and worrying, you heard some rustling around you. “Draco? Try and scare me! Don’t think I won’t hesita-”

You were quickly cut off by the noise you dreaded the most: the piercing howl of a werewolf. You, and seemingly the whole forest, froze within an instant. You rapidly placed your hand over your mouth, hoping that even your breaths couldn’t be heard.

Your thoughts immediately went to Draco, alone in the forest, with a werewolf on the prowl. While you should have been much more worried about yourself in such a vulnerable position, the blonde Slytherin couldn’t seem to leave your brain.

Your head was so clouded with Draco that you didn’t pay attention to the sound of claw-steps growing closer to you by the second. By the time you realized that you should shoot some crimson sparks up for help, a loud and intimidating growl emitted from the shrubbery right in front of you.

Without hesitation, you bolted away from the bushes as fast as your feet would take you. You couldn’t get far though, as the silver, moonlight-drenched werewolf stood ahead of you once again, this time on full display.

Its sharp, horrendous fangs resembled the pointed stalactites of underground caves; its violent yellow eyes were a match for Hufflepuff robes, though Hufflepuffs were probably slightly less vicious.

The werewolf stared at you, almost mockingly. The snarl of its mouth could almost be described as a smirk, similar to the one which your blonde detention-mate often wore. Your final thoughts before death at the hands of a werewolf would be, of all things, Draco.

The werewolf reared its arm back, ready to claw you to death, and a single tear ran down your face. It was too late to run, too late to hide, too late to do anything but die.

Draco Malfoy, however, had other plans. He bolted between you and the werewolf, rapidly pointing his wand out at the beast. He yelled “Stupify!” at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and his lungs out of breath.

You were too shocked by Draco’s sudden reappearance and act of heroism to notice the protective and caring grasp Draco had around your hand. His touch felt different than when he held your wrist, his hand was now warm and soft.

Your eyes were blurry with tears, and coupled with the dark night sky, you could barely see. The only thing guiding you was Draco’s hand, pulling you towards the outskirts of the forest.

You were too scared to look back in search of the werewolf, but Draco didn’t express worry that it would come back. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, your head leaning on his chest. His chest rose and fell quickly, his heartbeat rapid and quick.

After what felt like hours upon hours of running in the pitch black towards nothing, you and the not-so-bad blonde were back safely in front of Hagrid’s hut. The tears in your eyes had finally dried, though you definitely weren’t looking your best.

Under the light from Hagrid’s windows, Draco could see your matted hair, smudged mascara, and a bit of dried blood under your nose. He could have easily made a snide comment at your expense, but instead, he reached to your face, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of your eyes.

You looked up from your feet at the handsome blonde in front of you. He held a guilty smile on his face, but he seemed to be okay. You’d been so terrified these past few hours that all you could think to do was practically jump onto Draco, giving him a tight hug.

At first, he didn’t know what to do when you latched your arms around his chest in a tight hug. The last hug he ever got from someone was his first day of Hogwarts, at Platform 9 ¾. His mother tightly embraced him before sending him off to proudly strut onto the train.

His body apparently missed the feeling more than it let on, for butterflies exploded in his whole body the moment your soft skin wrapped around him tightly. He could faintly smell your shampoo as he hesitantly latched onto you.

The feeling of his arms around you was like nothing you’ve experienced before. Sure, you’d hugged people in the past, but this felt different. You felt your heartbeat quicken, and your whole body felt warmer. You felt secure and comfortable.

Little did the two of you know, Hagrid stood in the doorway of his humble abode, a knowing smile painted on his lips. He let out a small “ahem” before the hug was broken. You and Draco swiveled to face the half-giant, who reached out his arm expectantly.

Only then did Draco realize that he left the basket behind after the werewolf encounter, and a look of shock and embarrassment coated his face.

“I must’ve left it back in the forest. I’ll come back tomorrow night to regather the knotgrass. Just let Draco off the hook, please?” Your face had a pleading expression, a slightly pained look in your eyes.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Y/N. I know all ‘bout yer werewolf encounter, I’m ser Snape can live without a bit of knotgrass fer a few more days.” Hagrid warmly smiled at you.

The castle felt miles away from the outskirts of the forest. Draco was back to being his usual cold self, facing away from you as you both trudged to the school.

Eventually, you finally stood at the large wooden doors of the main entrance to Hogwarts. Within moments, you would be back within its comforting walls, which would surely soothe the new pounding sensation in your head.

You reached for the large, rusted metal doorknobs, ready to be greeted with the castle’s uplifting energy, when Draco grabbed your free hand, pulling you away from the handle.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be rude to the Slytherin, after all he did for you, so instead, you asked calmly, “What is it?”

The glow of torches which adorned Hogwarts’ stoney outer walls made Draco’s hair look magnificently golden, contrasting the way the pale moonlight made his locks seem almost silver. His silver eyes stared into yours, and for a moment you swear you saw his gaze flicker to your lips.

Your face heated up at the sight of his charming gaze and smile. You hadn’t even noticed how close his face was to yours until you felt the heat radiating from his pale cheeks. He quickly closed the minuscule gap between the two of you by passionately connecting your lips.

The electricity in the air was hard to ignore. The late hours of the night just added to the rush of feelings you got when your and Draco’s lips touched. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer; one of his warm hands cupped your cheek and the other sat around your waist.

After several moments of slow and loving kissing, your lips disconnected. Your lips missed the feeling of his’, but you were still satisfied. Draco pulled the large wooden door open, stepping inside with you, your fingers intertwined.

“I might just have to steal another one of your pathetic essays soon,” Draco said, a genuine look of love in his eyes accompanied by his signature smirk.

“You’re such a git, Malfoy. Though, I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with you, as long as there’s no werewolves involved, okay?”

And with that, you pulled him closer for another quick, affectionate kiss before giddily walking up to the Gryffindor common room.

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shyflameweasel · 3 years ago

Text

Divine Meeting

I think Crackpot is his own warning, that weird little creecher.

It was love at first sight, or maybe that was just the blood loss talking.

All he had done was spread the word of his God to the heathens of Nevada. It was quite the beautiful sermon if he had to say so himself. But the fools only took offense to his wise words. Now here he was, a prophet selflessly trying to spread the good word, bleeding out in an alleyway as a mob of idiots were out for his head. Ugh, he had better times working in the Nexus Tower than here among the masses.

Nothing on him to stem the blood, and no nearby passageways to the sewers for him to get back to his flock. Crackpot sent a prayer to the Higher Powers for salvation for their loyalist follower.

“Huh...hey you alright there?” The cultist jolted, but regretted that a moment as sharp bolts of pain shot through them. With a groan he looked to the alley’s opening. It was hard to make out any features, all Crackpot could really see was a wide brimmed hat. The figure took a step closer. “That really doesn’t look so good there.” “Oh no, as you can see I am quite peachy. Completely and utterly fine.” Crackpot spat. “If you’re here to make a mockery of me go right ahead heathen. But know that you will be smited as a consequence.”

The figure just drew closer, crouching when they got near enough. “Well you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I’m gonna take that as a reason as to why you’re sitting here.” The figure tilted their head forward, getting a better look at the source of the bleeding. They let out a low whistle, “They sure got you good.” Crackpot jerked back as they reached a hand towards him but immediately regretted it due to the sharp bolts of pain. “Hey careful-” He smacked away the hand. “Don’t lay your unclean hands on me! I refuse to be tainted by a filthy godless peon.”

Crackpot couldn’t see their face but could hear the worry tinge with rising annoyance. “I’m just trying to help. Either you let me do something to stop the bleeding or I can be on my merry way and leave you here. Your choice.” Crackpot glared. “You should be begging me to allow you to assist. What more could any heathen want to do but to serve a prophet in an attempt to cleanse their soul and seek salvation.”

The figure stood up with a huff. Turning around they started to head towards the mouth of the alley. “Whelp, can’t say I didn’t try to be a good samaritan. Better hope that god of yours decides to give you some bandages.” “Wait!” They stopped and turned their head back towards the downed grunt. “What?” Crackpot gritted his teeth, bitingly saying “I would be...grateful for you assistance.” The figure turned around, one hand resting on a cocked hip. “Weren’t you just talking about not wanting to be touched by” they raised their free hand to make quotations. “a heathen and a filthy godless peon.”

“Despite being such, the Ones I follow would spare you in the afterlife for helping one of theirs.” The airborne hand came down and the figure shook their head with a sigh. “Guess that’s the best ‘please save my sorry butt’ I’m gonna get aren't I?” They walked back to their previous position. “Ok, so you definitely need to be moved but I don’t think walking is gonna help so...” Their head turned to and fro, looking for something. Crackpot wasn’t paying as much attention as the world started to go fuzzy. “That should work.” There was a metallic sound before the former scientist felt himself lifted onto something hard.

Crackpot found himself awakening somewhere unfamiliar. The cultist looked around as best he could to get a look at his surroundings. The walls were bare and the ceiling seemed to sag inwards. Trying to sit up, a hand stopped him. “Whoa there bird man, I just finished to close you up. Don’t want you to rip ‘em open. Unless you want to meet that maker you were going on about.” There was the stranger from the alley. Crackpot couldn’t say anything, it felt like his mouth was filled with sand. The hand slid around to his back, where it helped him sit up properly. “You’re gonna have to stay here a couple days until you can move without tearing a hole in your gut bird for brains.”

Just as the stranger had said, Crackpot had found himself in the ramshackle little shack the figure had called home surround by a scrapyard. Though it pained him to be in the hands of a godless wretch it was...surprisingly comfortable. Any sarcasm or insult from the cult leader was countered by their own brand of snark. A line drawn between what kindness they would give before being firm in their stance. It reminded him of his old job at the Nexus Tower, and what comradery he had with some of his fellow scientists before he discovered his true calling. Hmmm...this one would make a fine addition to his flock, especially with their skillset.

Early into his stay Crackpot noticed how metal would react oddly. It didn’t take long until he found out why. His generous benefactor had been absentmindedly doing something on the other side of the room. Seemingly as if they had forgotten he was there, quite rude in his humble opinion, they had made a gesture. A metal cup resting nearby rose from its position and floated over to their now open hand. Then was dropped as they remembered that they had company. The explanation?

Apparently you generated an electromagnetic field that allowed you to manipulate how the unbonded electrons spinning in metallic atomic structure would move due to your will. Or as you had dumbed it down ‘controlled metal’. Quite the lowly take on the matter but it was to be expected for someone compared to his intelligence. Much to his indignation you had stuck him to the ceiling for ‘birdy time outs’.

After sometime he had been declared healthy enough to leave. (’Your fit to fly the coop now Tweety Bird.’ ‘Must you insist with all these detestable jabs.’ He had only gotten a laugh in response.) Crackpot had asked once more for them to join him. That they could do much more than simply sit here by spreading the word of the Higher Powers to the wastes of Nevada. They had just laughed it off and told him that they were much more happier with their little home. And off he went, finally returning to his flock from his recovery.

Although, that is not to say that Crackpot did not return, he did. Many times in fact.

At first, it was only try and draw you into his flock. Hopefully with repeated attempts they would finally consider his gracious offer. Over time though, that became less and less of a concern for him. Never would he say it aloud but...he was growing fond of you. The snark, the smiles, even those detestable bird puns and nicknames. Crackpot rationalized that this must be a divine test of some sort. For what exactly he was not sure, but it was the only way he could explain those growing feelings.

(’Back again from migration again birdy? Maybe I should hang up a sign saying “Roost Sweet Roost”.’)

But as it usually goes in Nevada, nothing stays good for long.

He had just made it to your scrapyard when several cretins ambushed him. Calling him a quack of all things! The nerve of these heathens! Those his annoyance at the fools didn’t last long as a punch was thrown at his face, knocking him down. Followed swiftly by further abuse as the simpletons rained down more punches and kicks onto his downed form. The only sound to be heard were sounds of impacts and ugly laughter. Until...

“Hey, what the hell are you doing over here!” He knew that voice. “Ya. What’s it to you?” One of them shouted back. The blows had stopped coming as they turned their attention away from him. “Well I live here so its my business! Wait...Tweety Bird!” Crackpot groaned. “Tweety bird? Now if that’s not the stupidest- what the hell!” Whatever they were going to say was cut off by the grinding of metal shrieking through the air.

He turned his head towards the sound, knowing what would have caused it. He did not expect what he saw though. One eye was visible from under their hat, filled with a fury Crackpot had never seen from them. A whirlwind of metal surrounded them that would fly upwards to the large masses of metal in the air twisting morphing together to form something. It didn’t take long to figure out what that shape was. From what had to be the entirety of the scrapyard were two massive hands floating above them.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You are going to leave. Right now. If I ever see you around here or even near my friend again I will throw you across Nevada. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” Each word dripped with furious intent. And if that they were stupid enough to test that, the hands flexing was more than enough to show how serious the situation was. The cretins did what had to be the smartest thing they’ve ever done in their lives and ran.

Laying there, Crackpot had a realization. When he had asked for help in the alley, it was must have truly been a gift. That he must have passed a test or gained a boon for his loyalty. That one of the Higher Powers themselves had taken form and come to his aid. That this one must have favorited him and came to him in the time of his greatest need.

The metal behemoths settled gently onto the ground as They ran over to him. “Shit shit shit. Are you ok?” Their hands flew around Crackpot as They checked for injuries. “You must be a Higher Power given form, I am truly blessed to follow such a kind being.” “Yup not okay, you’ve gone loopier than normal. Let’s get you inside and fix you right up.

#madness combat #crackpot #me and my weakness at writing conversations #this was just me looking up different ways to call someone an idiot #hope this was good cause i am a bit iffy at some parts

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