#also another interesting thing for me is that his pupils are always drawn sort of 'blurry'- i wonder if there's any meaning behind that. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baby-blossoms · 4 years ago

Text

Potent

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 3,795

Summary/Request: “I don't know if you write for Harry Potter, but can you do a fic about Draco Malfoy if you do? It doesn't have to be anything specific, I just love your writing!” - Reader smells Draco in the Amortentia potion without realizing it’s him.

Warnings: Light cursing

You were exhausted from staying up all night writing an essay for charms class over simple things your father had taught you ages before you had started your sixth year at Hogwarts. You couldn’t say that you were extremely talented in every subject you took at the great school of witchcraft and wizardry, but charms came naturally to you. Your mother was an outstanding Auror, and your father also worked for the Ministry of Magic. You were never fully informed on what exactly he did. His job was clearly out of the ordinary, as he never spoke about it. He was always out at odd hours for work, but you never questioned it. You were just happy that they both came home safe every night.

You couldn’t say that your family was thrilled when they found out you were a Slytherin. The family came from a long line of Ravenclaws on your father’s side and Gryffindors on your mother’s side. They were baffled as to how you found yourself placed among Slytherins. Nevertheless, they were proud of you and how hard you were working toward being one of the top students of your class,

“Another reason I believe you should have been placed in Ravenclaw! Perhaps you could consult with the headmaster about the matter, Y/N?”

Your mother had said once. You rolled your eyes at her all those years ago and simply replied,

“The sorting hat never makes mistakes, mama. You know that. Being a Slytherin may not have been what you wanted or expected, but it is my destiny.”

You withdrew yourself from the memory as you tuned back into your friends chattering away about the latest gossip among the school. Some people you had never heard of were getting back together for the third time this year. It was impressive how often a couple could split and get back together in the span of a few months.

“Y/n, do you fancy anyone?”

Your friend Danny asked, knocking his shoulder together with yours and raising an eyebrow in curiosity. You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the arm lightly with a book you were carrying.

“You know I don’t have time for a relationship, Danny.”

Danny gave a long drawn out sigh and motioned to a girl in blue and bronze robes passing by.

“Honestly, you should’ve been holed up with those stuffy Ravenclaws.”

You shot him an annoyed glance and replied.

“Ravenclaws are not stuffy, Daniel. They value intelligence, I can’t imagine why you weren’t placed there.”

Danny snorted out a laugh,

“There it is! Every time I annoy you, I’m reminded why you were put in Slytherin. It’s the wicked sarcasm alone, I think.”

Another one of your friends chimed in,

“Have you seen her magic in action, Danny? It's the power, not the sarcasm. Salazar Slytherin valued powerful, cunning students with pure blood, and the only family with more pure blood than hers is the Malfoys.”

You didn’t comment, a part of you flattered by your friend's compliment toward your powerful magic. However, the prejudice toward purebloods among the Slytherin house still put you off a bit. Your mind wandered to the Malfoy family after a moment. They truly were a powerful and well-known family, but you knew from your mother’s mixture of anger and disgust when talking about Lucious Malfoy, they were not well known for good reasons. A chill ran up your spine when you thought back to the first and only time you had seen Lucious Malfoy in person.

He towered over you, his eyes practically piercing into your soul when you accidentally bumped into him on Diagon Alley while buying supplies for your first year. Your mother had pulled you away from him as if he was infected with a highly contagious disease, and practically shoved you behind her. She had spoken to him for a moment, her voice friendly to anyone else’s ears, but you knew your mother. You heard how uncomfortable she truly was.

That was the extent of your interactions with the Malfoy family. Your mother had drilled it into your head that you were not to step foot near Draco Malfoy, let alone speak to him. She was terrified of what might come if you befriended, or worse, annoyed the young Malfoy. You had agreed, as if Draco would ever speak to you in the first place. He was far too concerned with himself and harassing Harry Potter for that.

The only thing that made avoiding Draco difficult at this point was not only that you were in Slytherin with him, but you also had almost the same schedule. Speaking of which, you realized you had passed your potions class, and quickly shouted a farewell to your friends as you doubled back and made your way into the room.

You gathered with the rest of the Slytherins. The class stood in front of a table that had four cauldrons upon it. One of the two you could smell from where you stood, and you found it almost intoxicating. Your eyes glazed over as you stared intently at the cauldron, and you were only brought out of your hazy thoughts of how exquisite it smelled when two boys entered the room. Harry Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasly. You scoffed quietly, annoyed that he could just waltz into class late and he seldom got any sort of repercussion for it. The one time you were late to Transfiguration Professor McGonagall made you write an essay on why punctuation is important for a witch or wizard to practice.

You glared at the two fighting over the last clean looking copy of the textbook and glanced to your right, feeling someone’s eyes on you. Your glare dropped immediately and was replaced by surprise and confusion at finding Draco Malfoy eyeing you with a small smirk. You felt a small blush spread across your cheeks. You had never fully looked at Draco before. His eyes were stone grey with flecks of blue toward his pupil, and his features were delicate yet sharp at the same time. But damn you had to admit he looked good in green. You found that you had been staring at him far too long, and abruptly looked away, turning back to Hermoine Granger. She stood in front of the cauldron you had been staring at earlier.

“It’s rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example, I smell freshly mowed grass and parchment, and spearmint toothpaste.”

She said before you were distracted once more. You felt as though he was watching you still. You couldn’t help but give in to your curiosity and steal another glance at Draco. His gaze had not shifted from you, and you felt another wave of heat across your cheeks. You weren’t used to catching the interest of any boy around Hogwarts, let alone the one boy you weren’t supposed to interact with whatsoever.

“Miss Y/l/n?”

You looked back to Professor Slughorn, he looked to you expectantly with an amused smile. Clearly you hadn’t been paying attention, and you felt your cheeks burn even hotter and you replied without hesitation.

“I’m sorry Professor, I was distracted. Could you repeat the question for me?”

Slughorn chuckled and stated,

“I was asking if you would like a turn in smelling the Amortentia potion? I saw that you were particularly transfixed with it earlier.”

You knew that if your cheeks could blush harder, they would. Making your way toward the potion, you tried your best to focus on speaking clearly as the scent practically grabbed a hold of you and begged you to taste the potion.

“I smell-” you paused for a moment, trying to figure out what had intoxicated your senses, “pomade, mint, apples, and...”

You trailed off, there was one more scent, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Yes, pomade, mint, and apples.”

You finished awkwardly. Slughorn smiled knowingly toward you, and gestured for you to return to where you had been standing earlier. You stalked back to your spot, refusing to let your embarrassment show in front of the class.

Professor Slughorn continued on about Amortentia for a moment, then introduced how the student with the best brewed potion that day would receive a vial of liquid luck. You rolled your eyes, knowing for a fact that you would not be receiving the vial. Potions weren't necessarily difficult for you, but they were by far not your strongest point.

You ended up being right, of course. Though, to your surprise and slight annoyance, it was Harry Potter who received the Liquid Luck. You couldn’t deny that you were jealous, yet couldn't help a heavy eye-roll when he tried to take it from Slughorn’s grasp before he was done speaking. You reluctantly clapped along with the rest of the students after Harry was instructed to use his potion well, but your facial expression showed exactly how you felt. You appreciated all that Harry had done, and what he had been through, but what would he of all people need liquid luck for? He always seemed to manage fairly well without it.

You gathered your books and made your way out of the potions classroom, toward charms class. Breath caught in your throat as you were abruptly tugged into an empty corridor. Turning, and drawing your wand in defense, you were more than surprised to lock eyes with Draco Malfoy once more. You weren’t sure what to say in such an instance, as you never dreamed you’d be alone with him, let alone by Draco’s choice.

“Well, hello then.”

You said. Draco eyed you carefully, his expression neutral as he introduced himself.

“I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

You nodded in response, surprised once more by the fact he assumed anyone in the school didn’t know his name by now.

“Yes, and I’m-”

Draco cut you off,

“Y/n Y/l/n. I know.”

You nodded once more, not entirely sure where to go from there. He was the one pulling you into empty corridors after all.

“Did you need something, Draco?”

Draco didn’t respond for a moment. He just stood silently, staring at you. His skin was practically flawless. It reminded you of a porcelain doll.

“I realized we’ve never spoken before. We’ve been in the same house for six years, and we’ve yet to have a conversation.”

You couldn’t help but feel confused once more.

“Well, not to be rude, but it doesn’t seem that you talk to many people in general, aside from your… usual group.”

Draco quickly replied.

“You don’t either.”

You smiled,

“What, have you been watching me, Draco?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“It's a good habit to observe those around you, Y/n.”

You laughed lightly.

“Well, then I’ll keep that excuse in mind next time I feel like staring at someone in class for a prolonged period of time.” you paused, noting how Draco’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Speaking of which, I have a class to get you.”

You said, taking your leave from the corridor. Glancing back as you rounded the corner, you found that Draco was indeed still ‘observing’ you. Your thoughts raced as you jogged to charms class. You just couldn’t wrap your head around why Draco chose such an odd way to start conversation with you for the first time. Then your thoughts wandered to your mother, and guilt stabbed at your gut. To be fair, Draco had talked to you first, and realistically he had pulled you into a corridor without your prior knowledge. So, you hadn’t necessarily gone against her wishes. You had to admit you didn’t mind the short conversation with him, though. Draco seemed interesting.

-----

The next few days were seemingly normal, aside from noticing Draco observing you more and more often. He was bold as well, and didn’t bother to look away most of the times you caught him. He was starting to become a true distraction to you. Of course, you couldn’t deny how attractive you found him.

You were making your way to the great hall for dinner, listening to Danny chatter away about the latest quidditch games and news regarding the Ministry. Almost all of your friends were seated by the time you found your way to the Slytherin table. Confusion and annoyance practically slapped you in the face when you found the spot you always sat in was occupied by a first year.

“Not to be rude, but I’ve sat in this spot since my first year. So, if you wouldn’t mind moving, I would really appreciate it.”

The first year turned to you slowly, and you wholeheartedly expected a sarcastic remark, but instead he said meekly,

“I have to sit here.”

You raised an eyebrow,

“Have to?”

You questioned. The boy nodded fervently, his eyes darting behind you. From the look in his eyes, you didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there.

“Why don’t you sit with me, Y/n? It seems every other spot is taken.”

Your suspicions were confirmed at the sound of Draco Malfoy��s voice. Turning, you stared at him in disbelief.

“Did you harass this poor kid into sitting in my spot, Malfoy?”

Draco glanced to the boy, then back to you, a smirk creeping across his lips.

“What makes you think I would do such a thing?”

He said, eyeing you in amusement. You smirked back to him playfully.

“I suppose I’m not that hungry either way. I think I’ll just make my way back to the common room to study.”

Draco’s grin vanished, his eyes narrowing as you winked at him and stalked away.

Minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the Slytherin common room, staring out the window into the lake. You watched calmly as creatures of all kinds swam past, finding their fluid movements in the water soothing. The Slytherin common room was freezing as per usual, but you neglected to grab a sweater, instead opting to continue to watch the wildlife through the window. Your attention was drawn away from the lake when you heard another person entering the common room.

“You’re not studying at all.”

You turned to Draco as he made his way next to you, then went back to watching the lake. You shrugged, smiling lightly.

“Are you cold?”

He asked, in almost a whisper. You looked back at him slowly, nodding your head in affirmation.

“It’s always cold in here.”

You sighed, once again turning to the lake. Draco didn’t respond, but moments later, a sweater was set down in your lap.

“That should help.”

He said. You looked at him in shock. You would’ve never expected Draco to be the type to lend out his sweater.

As you put the sweater on warmth engulfed you, but that wasn’t your main concern. What threw you for a loop was how the sweater smelled. It smelled of mint, pomade, apples and cologne. Your mind started racing. There was no way you had been smelling Draco’s cologne in the Amortentia potion.

“Sorry, I suppose I’m just not feeling well.”

You whispered. Promptly standing, you walked quickly to your dormitory and sat on your bed. You spent hours convincing yourself that somehow you were wrong about what you had smelled in the Amortentia potion. However, the sweater that engulfed you in warmth and that same scent was telling you otherwise.

---

Just to your luck, in potions the next day, you had the opportunity to test your theory. Slughorn had brought the Amortentia potion back out for whatever reason. You were too anxious to pay attention to his explanation. He gave each student the opportunity to smell the potion if they’d like to test what scents attracted them. When it came to you, the scent had changed, however, not in a way you expected. The smell of Draco’s cologne was overpowering.

You couldn’t tell whether you were delighted or terrified. Just imagining your mother's face if she found out Draco Malfoy was the first boy you ever had a crush on was enough to make you feel overwhelming guilt. However, when you saw Draco making his way toward the potion to smell it, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he would smell you too.

Shaking your head in annoyance at yourself, you looked down to the recipe for the potion you were supposed to be making that day. It seemed easy enough, but knowing yourself, you expected it to blow up in your face at any minute throughout the process. You tensed when you saw Draco walk past in your peripheral vision. Hope was still rearing its little head at the thought of what he might’ve smelled in the Amortentia potion, but you couldn’t let yourself be so distracted by him all the time. You would never get anything done.

Much to your surprise and elation, your potion came out perfectly. Slughorn praised you, as it truly was a rarity your potions came out decent, let alone perfectly. You glanced behind yourself, finding Draco staring at you with a look you had never seen him show before. Quickly turning around, your thoughts raced as to what he might’ve been thinking. You weren’t surprised to hear Slughorn praising a perfect potion from Draco moments later.

The minute class was let out, you practically sprinted out of potions. You had to find Danny and tell him everything. You raced to the Slytherin common room, searching for Danny anywhere within it. He clearly wasn’t in his usual spot, so you went to check his dormitory. When he didn’t answer the door, you sighed in annoyance and defeat. You couldn’t bother running around the entirety of Hogwarts looking for him, so you opted to wait for Dinner.

Making your way back to your own dormitory, you sighed once more, wondering how you should even address such a situation. You knew your mother would insist that you just stay a million miles away from the boy and let the feelings fade, but you knew deep down that you couldn’t force yourself to do so. Nevertheless, Draco was in all of your classes, and he was persistent. If he wanted to talk to you, or see you, there was no avoiding him.

----

You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, knowing it wouldn’t affect your scores too badly, and sat in your dormitory waiting for dinner to roll around. Draco’s sweater sat next to you on your bed, and you stared at it for what must’ve been hours. You never in a million years would have imagined that your thoughts and days would be so taken up by Draco Malfoy of all people. The single person your parents adamantly told you to stay away from. The pure irony of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t feel so guilty and confused.

When dinner finally came, you went to leave your dormitory, only to almost immediately slam the door again. Draco was leaning against the wall outside of your room, clearly waiting for you. Fuck. You were right, after all. If he wanted to see you or talk to you, he made sure there was absolutely no way to avoid him.

After a moment of you dumbly standing there, holding the handle, there was a firm knock at the door. You leaned your forehead against the hardwood, not knowing what would come from you opening the door. Your mind was practically tearing itself to shreds, battling whether you should ignore him and act like none of this happened, or tempt fate and open the door for the platinum haired boy.

“Y/n, you can’t just pretend you’re not in there!”

Draco called through the door. You cringed, still battling yourself on whether you should open the door or not.

“You’re not even supposed to be in the girls dormitories, Draco!”

You called back.

You heard a muffled laugh through the door.

“All the more reason for you to open the door before I get caught.”

You whispered a silent apology to your mother, and opened the door.

Draco’s grey eyes bore into yours, and he didn’t hesitate to walk into your room, closing the door swiftly behind him. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he turned to you. With every step he took toward you, you took a step backward. Finally the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and gave out from under you. You sat, staring at Draco as he made his way closer. His signature smirk made your blush burn even brighter.

Your heart was racing faster than it ever had as he leaned over you, forcing you to lay back slightly.

“Tell me, Y/n. What was it that you smelled in the Amortentia potion?”

You knew you couldn't hide how flustered you were as Draco asked you the one question you had hoped to avoid. You looked anywhere but him, still conflicted with yourself.

You had to hold in a shaky breath when Draco grabbed your chin, purring,

“Look at me.”

You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Now tell me, what did you smell in the potion, Y/n?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you responded.

“You.”

Draco smiled fully for the first time as far as you had ever seen. Soon his lips were pressed firmly against yours. He tasted partially of how smelled, like peppermint and green apples. As he pulled away slightly, you let out a shaky sigh, and felt his breath fan across your face.

“Is it too bold of me to assume what you might’ve smelled in the potion, then?”

You asked in a whisper. Draco chuckled, shifting slightly to grab something behind you. His icy eyes analyzed you for a few more moments before he pulled you into a softer, shorter kiss. You leaned forward, bringing one hand to his hair, running your fingers through it. You had wanted to do that for days now. Draco’s lips quirked up, smiling against yours.

When he pulled away, the sight of him nearly made you choke. His hair was ruffled in a way you found so deliciously attractive, and his lips slightly swollen from the kisses you had shared.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Y/n. I just wanted my sweater back.”

He lied easily. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled softly, then continued.

“Your perfume is quite potent, though.”

He winked at you, making your heart flutter, then took his exit.

You didn’t care what your parents would think. There was no way you could stay away from Draco Malfoy.

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goblinwithaheart · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected But Not Unappreciated

Dabi x Reader

18+

Word count: 3,500

Dabi's a smartass, and that's putting it lightly. He mouths off one too many times and you decide to do something about it. Unexpectedly for him, you take the wheel in this encounter, and he's all but along for the ride.

PWP/Plot what plot; light dom/sub; afab reader; dirty talk; choking; use of safewords; reader has established quirk

A/N: first fic posted to tumblr! find me on ao3 @ goblinwithaheart and this fic here

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

Now, how did we end up here? Dabi thought, his back pressed against the plaster wall of the dingey hole you’d found yourselves in.

Your fingers curled around his throat, a controlled transformation causing sharp, black talons to dig into the scarred skin. You stared up at him, usually so small and demure, your pupils turned into predatory slits. Your grip tightened, and Dabi reflexively swallowed around the pressure you exerted. He felt his Adam’s apple bob against the strength of your palm.

At any point he could engulf the whole room in his hellish blue fire. Dabi knew this--it would be easier even than just batting you away, which was a far cry from difficult in the first place. But there was something about this moment, the feeling in the air, some sort of electricity in the atmosphere, that implored him to see where things were going.

Your lips quirked up, revealing sharp teeth. Every bit the predator, your countenance grew challenging, dainty jaw setting and head tilting. Dabi continued to stare down at you and take in the moment, the inherent threat failing to land. “Care to run that by me again?” You asked, your accent as terrible as always.

And shit--what had he even said? Something smartass for sure, that was a given. But… as he stood there, your hand around his throat, your soft, plush body pressed against him--and that fucking fire in your eyes. Dabi couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think of much beyond the current moment.

Beyond the bulge of his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

Your eyes darted down. Shit, she noticed. Dabi cursed internally, but didn’t allow himself to outwardly express his reaction. He kept his expression level and disinterested, but when you turned your eyes back to his, your pupils dilated back to big, black circles. You must have been able to feel his pulse begin to beat a rapid tattoo under your fingers.

Your smile widened, sharp teeth growing dull. Dabi felt the sting of your talons fade, though your grip remained snug around the column of his throat. “You’re kidding,” you said. A breathy chuckle left you, and ostensibly, you were mocking him. But Dabi could hear the huskiness in your voice. “This does it for you, Dabi?”

Dabi remained steadfast in his silence. Partly because he wanted to be a huge bastard about it, partly because he wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth. You took note of the man’s stubbornness and tightened your fingers more, your delicate digits pressing deftly into the arteries at the sides of his neck.

Dabi’s own hands flew to grip your arm, his large palms nearly engulfing your entire forearm. “Hey now,” he rasped, voice raw from the pressure and heady from the surge of lust coursing through his body. “We haven’t talked safewords yet.”

He’d meant it as a joke. Another smartass remark like the kind that got him into this situation. But the way your eyes practically lit up..

“Just say red,” you said. He felt your other hand brush across his thigh before you gripped the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. You pressed yourself even closer against him, your ample breasts squishing against his chest to create some positively tantalizing cleavage. “No reason to mess with the classics.”

Dabi smiled, one side of his mouth pulling against the staples in his face. “I always had you pegged for a freak.” He hissed a breath through his teeth when you squeezed his dick. But that smug smile came back immediately. “You fake good girls always are.”

“Fuck off,” you retorted before pulling him down to press your lips against his in a heated kiss.

Dabi was pulled forward and down, his bright blue eyes widening for the quickest second at his counterpart’s sudden action. But when his mismatched lips met your plush, soft ones, he allowed himself to sink into the moment. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and Dabi couldn’t help the groan that bubbled up in his chest.

Fuck, who could blame him though? It’s not like he hadn’t entertained the idea of fucking you before. At one point he’d even had a plan to make a move on you--at least he did until he found out you could transform into a seven-foot-tall demon monster and had way too much fun maiming jerk-ass guys who looked at you for too long.

But this? Oh, this was better than he even thought. Dabi moved his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his palms. You growled against his mouth, stopping your hand palming his hard cock to move his grip to your ass and guiding him to squeeze.

“Touch me like you’re going to fuck me, goddammit.” Your tone left no room for argument, and honestly, it made Dabi a little weak in the knees.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, cocky as all hell, his large hands kneading into your flesh like he wanted to own it.

“Mm, good boy.” You purred, and the sound of your arousal-thick praise sent shocks of pleasure down his spine.

God, when he’d imagined it, he thought you’d be this submissive little brat. Let him do whatever he wanted to you. Your body was practically made to be tossed around and told what to do. And he always thought you’d look so good on your knees for him. But you were nothing if not a walking contradiction. Look one way, act another. Kept him more than interested, he knew that.

You separated from him with a desperate gasp. You looked so debauched, Dabi thought. Delicate hair a mess, lips kiss-bruised, cheeks flushed. With the way you were playing him like a fiddle, he was sure he looked much the same.

He didn’t get to ponder the sight for long, though. You had always been surprisingly strong, even in your un-transformed body. And the way that you manhandled him to the dusty floor was nothing short of hot as fuck.

You were on him again, thick thighs straddling his hips, your mouth nipping and sucking the scarred skin on his neck. Dabi grabbed your hips and ground against you, forcing a tiny sound from you. Good fucking god, that one sound really set him off. He wanted more of those. He wanted more of you.

He pushed his hands under your shirt, your hot skin jumping beneath his fingertips. Up and up he went, finally cupping his large hands over your breasts. The tips of his black-painted fingernails peeked under the collar of your tank top, low hem affording the view.

You batted him away impetuously, moving down to begin working on the unmarred skin over Dabi’s pectoral. “I thought--” Dabi hissed as you bit down “--that you wanted me to touch you.”

“‘M busy,” you replied. Dabi was going to pop off with another smartass comment, but the thought died as you moved further down, your fingers busy undoing his jeans. You wasted no time freeing him from the confines of his traitorous pants, your small hand wrapping around the hard, hot length of his cock. “Ooh,” you cooed.

Dabi raised himself to rest on his elbows and the most smug, shit-eating smirk split his features as he peered down at you. Dabi knew what he was working with, had been on the receiving end of more than a few astonished and impressed stares. And you were looking at his cock with absolute hunger, your hand gently stroking up and down, both your eyes and your fingers roving over the series of piercings decorating the underside.

“Never seen you speechless--ah!” Dabi’s sarcastic comment cut off as you quickly sank your mouth down onto him. You drew yourself back up before llicking a wide stripe from base to tip, taking care to run the tip of your tongue between the metal bars. You engulfed the head of his cock again and god, he could lose himself in that hot cavern, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. “Fuck, angel. You’ve been holding out.”

You only hummed, reaching out to plant his hand into your hair, encouraging him to fist the soft strands and bob you up and down as he pleased. And he did, roughly gripping your hair and tugging, pulling your sweet mouth up and down his length. You squeaked at his rough treatment and then moaned in turn, the vibration feeling amazing as he pushed you down, the head of his dick pressing against the back of your throat.

Fuck, much more of this and he was going to bust, and he wanted nothing more than to pour his load right down your throat. Dabi groaned and the image conjured up in his mind: you peering up at him on your knees, tongue out with his cum dripping down your chin.

“Fuck, babe--god, your mouth is so good.” Dabi panted, fingers tightening in your hair. He could feel that pressure building, his lower abdomen flexing as pleasure ignited the nerves up and down his spine. You were taking him so perfectly, your tongue laving over his length, hands taking care of the rest of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. “Shit, I’m gonna cum!”

And just like that, you tore yourself away, leaving Dabi tethering just on the edge.

“Ah!--What the fuck,” the desperation in his voice was almost embarrassing. Dabi’s hips jerked on their own, but the weight of your body stifled most of the movement. You were clever enough to have also gotten hold of both of his wrists, your nails digging into the scarred skin there, preventing him from finishing what you’d goddamn started. He craned his head up, peering down the length of his body to see you grinning at him in utter delight. “You bitch,” Dabi panted, eyebrows drawn up and together in frustration.

“Shh,” you soothed, leaning down to give the head of his cock a tiny kitten lick. Dabi jerked again in response. “I’m not done with you yet.” You sat up once more and hungrily raked your eyes over him. If Dabi had still been familiar with the concept of shame, the sheer lewdness of your stare may have embarrassed him. “God, don’t you look so handsome underneath me. All desperate, wanting to cum so bad.” You flicked your eyes to his. “Color?”

For a moment, Dabi was confused. His mind was focused on the singular goal of getting off, all his thoughts hazy through the fog of pleasure coursing through his body, his desperate need to cum. Then he remembered, and dropped his head back to the floor with a dull thud. “All green,” he groaned, “just fucking touch me.”

You chuckled darkly. “Good boys get rewards, Dabi.” He felt you release his hands, and he peeked back down to see you run your hands up your thighs. His gaze zeroed in on the movement. Your palms caressed over your hips, across the dip of your waist, and rested to cup the globes of your breasts. Your hands kneaded the supple flesh through the material of your oversized tank top. “Show me you can be a good boy and I'll let you cum.”

Let him cum? Normally, Dabi would have scoffed, unimpressed with that little power play. He wasn’t in the habit of having anyone let him do anything. But this time… It was doing it for him. Maybe it was something to do with how he’d imagined fucking you more nights than not recently. Or maybe it was how he’d seen you mutilate men for looking at you wrong, but were doing this with him, of all people. Or, just maybe, the thought that you could give him a run for his money, give as good as you got and never, ever back down got him harder than fucking diamond.

But it didn’t really matter why, did it? Dabi reached out, leaning to grab you by the hips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your leggings. “Come sit on my face,” he growled, “and I’ll show you how good I can be.”

Your eyes flashed in excitement, though it was quickly covered with a veneer of cool confidence. You rose and quickly shucked off your bottoms--no panties, Dabi noticed with a smirk--and situated yourself above him, hovering for a moment. But Dabi was not a patient man on his best days, and quickly wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing you down and burying his face in your cunt.

Above him, you gasped as he began his onslaught. God, you were already soaking wet, he thought as his tongue dove through your folds. He struck the swollen nub of your clit with the flat of his tongue, eliciting a small moan from you. He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around it and sucking mercilessly.

“Ah!” You gasped, bending to grab a fistful of his hair. You rocked your hips against his mouth, and Dabi wasn’t sure if you were feeling too much or were chasing after it. “Ngh, Dabi, fuck!” You moaned obscenely, and the doubt quickly erased itself from his mind.

He lapped at you, alternating between teasing licks and pointed flicks. He felt every tremor that shook your muscles, the stinging in his scalp from your fingers twisted in his hair, and heard the filthy moans that he made spill from your mouth.

You were grinding against him in earnest now, panting Dabi’s name as you chased your orgasm on his face. He focused on your clit, manipulating it in the way that made you tense and frenzied above him. You ground down harder, and he was beginning to realize he’d need some air soon. But damn if suffocating between your thighs wouldn’t be one hell of a way to go.

“Yes, yesyesyes! I’m gonna cum--fuck, Dabi, I’m gonna--!!” Your words died with a sharp gasp, followed by a strangled moan as your whole body tensed above him. Your back arched and Dabi felt you trembling under his hands as he worked you through your orgasm. You pulled yourself up and away abruptly, yanking his head back when you teetered on the cusp of overstimulation.

Dabi looked up at you, your skin flushed pink, hair tacky against your sweaty forehead. Your chest was still heaving up and down as you returned his stare, eyes glassy.

Proud of the destruction he wrought, he smirked, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips, collecting your wetness to savor the taste. The pornographic visual must have reignited the lust in you, as your glassy eyes quickly cleared and your wicked grin returned.

“Was I a good boy?” Dabi questioned smugly.

You repositioned yourself in a flash, straddling your hips over his, your slick heat rubbing over the pierced underside of his cock. You fisted your hands into the collar of Dabi’s shirt, roughly pulling him up until your mouth crashed into his.

Dabi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, never unimpressed with your aggressiveness, before kissing you back with equal fervor. Your tongue delved into his mouth, curling against his, and you groaned as you tasted yourself on him. That fucking sound--shit, all of you in this moment--was so goddamn erotic. Dabi felt his dick twitch under you, so close to what he knew was going to be an absolutely magical pussy.

You smiled against his lips, your hands smoothing over his collarbones to rest on his shoulders. “Oh, yes,” you said, “a very good boy.” You raised your hips, one hand reaching to grasp his cock, teasing the head against your soaking folds. “So very, very good…” You bit your lip and moaned as you sank down on him.

Dabi’s head lolled back as he was overcome with the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him. “Fuuuck,” he sighed, hands instinctively gripping your hips. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You giggled impishly, languidly rolling your hips. It was nothing short of a tease, Dabi thought. “Mm it’s all for you, my good boy.” A moan ripped its way out of his throat, that sweet little nickname heightening the fuzzy pleasure encompassing his body. “Ooh,” you grinned, picking up the pace as Dabi allowed his torso to slump back to the floor. “You like it when I call you a good boy?”

Dabi refused to dignify that with an answer, already feeling the unmarred skin on his face heating up with blush. You retaliated against his silence by stopping your movement altogether. He let out a frustrated groan and tired to thrust up into you, but you pressed down more firmly, stifling his attempts. “Just--fucking move,” he growled, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

Quick as a flash, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his throat, tiny digits pressing against the arteries beneath his jaw. Dabi’s eyes shot open, craning his gaze to carefully peer at the woman atop him. You smiled down at him sweetly, still managing to look positively debauched. You shifted a little, the small ember of pleasure forcing an inhale from him, not that it helped the fogginess that was slowly overtaking his brain.

“I asked you a question,” you said. You raised and lowered your hips so, so slowly, your plush, hot walls clamping down on him. “Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

The stubborn, rational part of his brain absolutely railed against the entire concept. He was not a good boy. He wasn’t even a good person. But the way you were saying it, that it was you saying it…

“Yes,” Dabi rasped.

You softened your grasp on his neck and Dabi’s brain was flushed with oxygen. The sensation was heady, his body tingling all the way to the tips of his fingers. You returned to your slow pace, and Dabi moaned, grateful for any sort of friction, even if it was achingly slow. “What’s your color, good boy? Do you want more of that?”

“So--ngh--so fucking green, babydoll.” You seemed pleased, the tempo of your thrusts increasing. “God, your pussy is amazing; fucking riding me like that--so perfect.”

“Mm,” you moaned in response to his praise, pace increasing in earnest. You’d lift almost all the way off, until just his tip was still cushioned inside, then smoothly slide back down, taking him to the hilt, seating his cock so deep inside you. “Keep saying sweet things and I’ll let you cum inside me.”

Dabi’s eyes were half-lidded in pleasure, already he was approaching his orgasm, even more intensely than the first time. And with your filthy mouth saying such enticing words, Dabi knew he wasn’t going to hold out much longer.

“Choke me again,” he commanded.

Your expression was nothing short of delighted. “Now that is a sweet thing.”

Dabi screwed his eyes shut when you replaced your hand and squeezed, that pressure making his whole body figuratively ignite. You rode him with determination now, gasps and pants and little moans falling from your lips as you began to lose yourself in your own pleasure.

He could feel the molten heat pooling at the base of his spine as black dots began to crowd his vision. His fingers tightened into your skin, surely leaving bruises that would match the splay of his hands.

“Are you gonna cum?” You panted above him. “I can feel you’re on the edge. Come on, be my good boy. Be my good boy and cum for me, Dabi.”

Right at the precipice, you withdrew your hand from his throat. The rush of blood flow coupled with your breathless entreaty had him cumming harder than he ever had in his life. Dabi gasped as the pleasure overtook him, then settled into a low groan as you milked his cock of every last drop.

You settled on his lap, face the perfect picture of satisfaction. “Fuck,” Dabi cursed on a sigh, running one hand through the sweat-dampened locks at his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You giggled as you dismounted from him, nonchalantly stepping over to your discarded leggings, leaving Dabi to lie on the cold floor and resituate himself, feeling thoroughly used in the best way.

He tucked himself back into his pants and looked over in time to see you pull your leggings on, not caring at all about the drips of his cum painting the insides of your thighs. Fuck, if his soul hadn’t just left his body, he’d be up for round two after seeing that. But right now he was craving a smoke and a nap, and wasn’t looking forward to the trek across town to his bed.

Dabi sat, blue eyes fixed on you still, one elbow resting across his raised knee. His sex-addled brain was still trying to process what had just happened when you turned to him, your usual sweet, disarming smile in place.

“That was a lot of fun,” you said. “Maybe next time I can be your good girl.”

Dabi’s following smirk was entirely involuntary. “I think that can be arranged.”

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #NSFT #minors DNI #bnha x reader #mha x reader #y'ever wanna just ch*ke somebody when they're being a smartass?#and also f*** them?#here we are

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middleearthpixie · 3 years ago

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Someone to Watch Over Me ~ Chapter Four

In honor of Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day, I thought I'd move up tomorrow's chapter and let it go out into the wild today. So, if you enjoy it, please let me know - comment, reblog, recommend, what have you! <3

Author's Note: Here is where the story will begin to mirror the events of The Hobbit, with some poetic license taken, of course.

Summary: Thorin and Seren arrive in the Shire, and she meets the Company, as well Bilbo Baggins.

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Seren (female OC, formerly of Dale)

Characters: Gandalf the Grey, the Company, Bilbo Baggins

Rating: T

Warnings: The sexual tension between Thorin and Seren ratchets up a bit now.

Word Count: 4,359

Tagging: @tschrist1 and if anyone else wishes to be added, just let me know!

Thorin stared up at the ceiling, only just barely able to make out the stains on the plaster. Water stains, most likely. He couldn’t imagine what else they might be. Didn’t want to imagine what else they might be.

To his right, Seren was sound asleep in her bed. Every now and again, she let out a snore that made him smile. At least one of them could sleep. He was far too busy mentally berating himself for his idiocy earlier.

He hadn’t meant to try to look down her tunic. It simply… happened. He didn’t know why he asked her about it, either. Up until the words crossed his lips, he had given no more than a passing thought about the fact that she was a girl pretending to a certain extent to be a boy. Her reasoning made perfect sense, after all, and he could hardly fault her.

But once she’d told him her secret, his eyes slid of their own accord to her chest. There was no indication whatsoever of any sort of curvature. Which made him wonder. Which made images pop into his mind. Images he neither wanted nor needed.

Trouble was, they were there now and that was why he couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps it would be easier if she looked more like a mountain troll. Or a goblin. But, in fact, she was actually cute. Pretty, even. Her hair was a pale, shimmering gold, like that of the elves of the Woodland Realm. She kept it back in a neat braid, which she then tucked into the neck of her tunic (stop thinking about that damn tunic!)

But her eyes were by far her most striking feature. They were wide and green, but unlike no green he’d ever seen. The outer ring of her iris was the deep green of a forest in summer, but as the color swirled nearer to her pupils, it softened to paler green, and finally yellow. They were almost mesmerizing in their tranquility. By far the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

And that was also why he stared up into the darkness, at the questionable stains. The fire smoldered on the grate. The fire she’d ended up having to start because all he was successful in doing was crumbling the flint like a fool.

That seemed to amuse her as she took it from him, saying, “Perhaps I should do this. I have the feeling that nasty little man at the desk wouldn’t be too keen on giving me another flint, knowing I’d be using it to keep a dwarf warm.”

He’d rolled his eyes. “I’ll go down and get a new flint. He won’t dare try to put me off.”

“You don’t know that.” She’d shaken her head. “He might have steel of his own or worse. It would be better for me to deal with him, if it comes to that.”

His gut twisted with irritation over that. A girl coming to his defense. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time she came to his defense, much as he hated to admit it. He appreciated it, but would rather not think about it, if at all possible.

Which led his mind right back to what happened earlier. He groaned softly into the darkness, rolling over to punch his pillow as he tried to will himself to sleep. It didn’t help. All he could think about now was what she kept hidden beneath that oversized tunic. And that was enough to drive him mad. His imagination ran wild, torturing him as the night wore on and the logs on the fire were slowly consumed by the flames.

He rolled onto his side, facing Seren. A mistake. She lay on her side, facing him, with only the light sheet drawn over her. In the darkness, without the shapeless clothes to hide her, the curve of her hips, the slope of her waist, were as plain as the nose on his face. And when he closed his eyes? It made things worse. Now he saw her in the rain, peering up at him as she had that first night. Rain beaded on her cheeks, caught in her eyelashes, shimmered against lips that he suddenly wanted to taste.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to will alway the sudden rush of desire he felt for this woman. No. She wasn’t for him. She was of Man and should stay of Man. Dwarves and Men would do well to remain far apart from one another. Nothing good could come of his desiring Seren Gilwynn, nothing at all. He would enjoy himself in the moment, no doubt, for he had the feeling she would be far different from any woman he’d known prior to meeting her, but in the end, it could never work. They were far too different and their paths would never be the same.

Now if only he could convince himself of that.

Finally, sleep crept in and his eyes slid shut. But, his dreams were every bit as frustrating as his waking thoughts; steamy and erotic and when he woke at the first light of dawn, the ache that settled into him was all too real.

He opened his eyes slowly, his entire body humming from the force of his dreams. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d dreamed so vividly and as his gaze fell upon Seren, whose back was now to him, he bit back a groan. Perhaps letting her accompany him was a terrible idea, after all.

No. He’d overcome this. It would pass, as every other infatuation did. He had far more important matters with which to concern himself, and with that, he threw back the quilts and sat up. His trousers were draped over the foot of his bed and he slid into them before crossing to Seren to catch her shoulder.

“We need to move on,” he said, giving her a gentle shake. “Seren?”

She rolled over with a low sigh and her eyes slowly opened. She gazed up at him and his belly gave a sharp flip as a sleepy smile lifted her lips and she said, “I was dreaming about you.”

“Were you?” He tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible as he turned away.

“I was, yes.” The linens rustled and he peered over his shoulder to see she’d sat up and was now rubbing one eye with a fist. “It was interesting, really. We were in an earthen cavern, surrounded by goblins. And one was about to stab you through the throat, when Gandalf appeared.”

He spun around to face her. “What?”

“It was so odd,” she said softly, looking up at him. “But so vivid. I’d swear it was real, but we are right here in Bree, and there are no goblins here, so…”

He sank onto the edge of his bed. “Perhaps you should remain here, or in the Shire. If we are to go to Erebor and face a dragon—“

“That dragon destroyed my home as well,” she told him, her voice low and soft. “I want it to pay as much as you do.”

He looked over at her. Her eyes held a sadness he hadn’t seen before, and his first instinct was to offer her comfort. “So, you and I fight for the honor of killing Smaug?”

To his relief, she offered up a sleepy smile. “I don’t delude myself into thinking I could kill a dragon. But I would like to be there when it happens.”

“How is it you lived in Dale, yet I only ever saw you that one afternoon?”

She lowered the hand that had been rubbing her eye. “I didn’t wish you to see me.”

“You hid from me?”

“More or less, yes. I watched you, but after that day, you thought me a pest. I’d follow you if you came into Dale, with my little sword at my side, just in case anyone thought to give you trouble.”

“I thought you a pest?”

To his discomfort, she nodded. “You caught me once, around Athluna Farydale’s shop. I’m sure you’ve put it from your mind, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. I confess, Mr. Oakenshield, I had a bit of a crush on you back then. You were so handsome and fearless… But then, you laughed at me and said I was but a child and I should go home.”

He tried to bring up the memory, and little by little, it came into focus.

He’d first spied her as she ducked behind a table displaying Miss Farydale’s goods, and had thought nothing of it. But then, the distinct feeling of being watched had settled over him and at least twice more, he’d turned to catch a flash of blonde hair disappearing around a corner, behind a table, lost in a crowd.

It went on that way as he’d made his way from one end of the square to the other, when finally, he ducked behind a corner and as the girl passed, he stepped out to grab her by the arm, growling,“What are you doing?”

The tiny girl with long blonde curls and wide green eyes blinked up at him, gazed up at him as if the sun rose and set on his shoulders. In one hand, she held a sword. At first glance, he thought it was a toy, but then realized it was anything but. Small, perhaps, but honed to a lethal degree from the looks of it.

He released her, folding his arms. “I’m waiting.”

Those green eyes met his and to his surprise, her fair cheeks grew pink as she stammered,“I—that is, you—well… I mean… I’m here for you to watch over.”

They winced in unison and he’d replied, “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m here to watch over you. In case Alfryd tries to make good on his threats.””

“Watch over me? Whatever for? I need no one to do such a thing. Especially not a child. Run along now, and bother me no more.”

“But—“

He didn’t wait for her to finish, but turned and stalked off, shaking his head at the very thought of that child thinking she was protecting him from the people of Dale, from Alfryd. Laughable.

“That was you?” he murmured, reaching for his tunic, draped over the foot of the bed as well.

As he drew it on, she said, “It was. Do you remember? I made a fool of myself.”

“I remember I was far too old for you at the time.”

“Yes, you probably were.” She kicked back the coverlet and rose and he swallowed hard at the sight as, once again, she was in only her tunic.

To make matters worse, her trousers lay draped over the table, before the windows, and as she stepped before them, the sunlight streamed in behind her and the effect stunned him into silence. No matter how he tried not to look, he couldn’t help but see the outline of slender, shapely thighs, softly curved hips, the slope of her waist, and the faint hint of those bandages of which she spoke last evening.

He turned about, the only way he could avert his gaze. “I was and I still am and we need to go.”

“Well, it no longer matters,” came her pert reply and he breathed a sigh of relief as the swish of fabric against skin reached his ears. Her trousers, hopefully. Unless of course, she was trying deliberately to drive him mad. “I’m not that same girl any longer.”

A relief that. He turned back to find her dressed once more, which came as another relief for him. Now, they just need to make for the Shire and once the entire Company was assembled, his thoughts would no longer center on the girl in his room at the moment. In time, she would just be one the others.

Or so he hoped.

“So,” Seren was saying as she tugged on hose that had seen better days, “how long will it take us to reach the Shire?”

“No more than a few hours.”

“Good. And do you know where we’re going?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” he replied as he fastened his scabbard about his hips. “But, we’ll find it.”

“And if we don’t?”

He offered up a long look. “We will.”

“Very well.” She tugged on her left boot, then her right, and straightened up. Her brows pulled low as she peered at him. “Is something wrong? You look a little flushed this morning.”

“I’m fine,” he told her, shrugging into his fur wrap and then his cloak. “We need to move.”

“If you say so.”

He held open the door for her. The sooner he put this room, and its two comfortable beds, far behind them, the happier he’d be for it. Perhaps then his thoughts would stop torturing him.

Seren shielded her eyes from the sun as she waited for Thorin to emerge from the inn. Something bothered him. He avoided meeting her eyes, or even looking directly at her, and that made her smile. He had no trouble doing so until she teased him about catching him trying to peek down her tunic. It wasn’t until she’d teased him about it that this sudden change came about.

Was it possible that he really had tried to look down her tunic? She thought that’s what he’d been doing, but it was entirely possible she was wrong.

Or so she’d thought.

Then, he came thudding down the steps and out into the road and she smiled up at him. “I thought you’d gotten lost.”

“It seems our innkeeper friend thought we damaged the room. I don’t know what he thought we were doing, but he charged us an extra fifty for it.”

“Fifty?” Her belly kinked sharply. She didn’t have much more than a hundred or so left in her purse. Still, she set her sack on the ground to open it. “Well, let me—“

“Worry not about it,” he said, catching the sack to lift it in one smooth motion and thrust it back at her. “I let him think we’d had the time of our lives up there and paid him. It was the quickest way to get out of there.”

She bit back a smile. “I wonder what he thought we were doing?”

He shrugged. “I neither know nor care. Now, come along. We still have a way to travel.”

For the first time since catching up with him at the bridge, when he’d dragged her into the underbrush, she fell into step alongside him. “How far is the Shire from here?”

“About half a day’s walk. We will be there by nightfall.”

“And is there an inn there?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. But no matter, we will find somewhere to sleep.”

She cast a sideline glance up at him. The sunlight danced along the dark strands of his hair and highlighted the silver streaking through it. The small silvery cube braided into his hair caught the light, threw it off in flashes of blue and white light. “What is that?”

“What is what?”

She gestured to her own ear. “That block in your hair. What is it?”

“It’s a rune. Woven in by my nephew, Kili, when he was a toddler.”

“And how old is he now?”

Thorin glanced down at her. “Not much older than you, I’d wager. He would like you.”

“Really? What makes you say that?”

He shrugged. “Kili likes pretty girls. Fili as well, but he isn’t quite the flirt as his brother is.”

Hearing him say he thought her pretty did something odd to her. It made her belly flip in a way that was as delicious as it was unnerving. But, she didn’t wish to embarrass him again, and so merely smiled and said, “Tell me more of them.”

“Kili and Fili?” He glanced down at her, then looked ahead once more. “They are the sons of my younger sister, Dis. They are typical boys—reckless and headstrong and eager for a fight. You will meet them at some point in the next day or so.”

“I look forward to it,” she replied.

Perhaps it was but her imagination, but it seemed to her that his shoulders tensed with her words. But then, he said, “And they will most likely thank you,” and smiled down at her.

They walked on in silence a bit longer. As the sun warmed the air, she unfastened her cloak to drape it over her arm, and winced at the hint of sweat trickling down between her breasts. The linen wrapped around her was even warmer, and she wished she at least had the satisfaction in knowing she’d be able to unbind herself soon.

But, the truth was that as long as she traveled with a group of men, she would have to pretend to be a boy. And that mean remaining wrapped tight.

Not exactly the most pleasant of thoughts.

She tugged her braid from her tunic. The ends of it rubbed oddly against her skin, which irritated her as the healing blister on her foot irritated her, as the cut on her arm irritated hers. But, she kept her complaints to herself. Mama always said it did no good to complain and that energy was best spent trying to find a solution instead. Trouble was, the only solution was to confess her true gender and she wasn’t at all certain that would be wise. Thorin, she could trust. The others? She didn’t know them. And anyone else with whom they might cross paths, such as orcs, goblins, or trolls? She definitely did not want any of them to know the truth about her.

“Thorin?”

He peered down. “What?”

“Do you think I should come clean about who I am to the others? To Gandalf?”

He stopped and faced her. “Why?”

She also stopped and shrugged. “It’s warm. And that makes me a little… uncomfortable.”

She half-expected his gaze to lower, as it did the night before, but to her surprise, he held her gaze as he said, “It’s up to you. No one will touch you, if that is your fear. But, I cannot say the same for anyone we might meet along the way.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said softly, looking off into the distance, where the fields rolled an even deeper emerald green than the woods from which they’d come. She saw curious buildings in the distance, ones that looked as if they’d been built into the countryside. It all looked so lush, so peaceful, it was unlike anything she’d ever seen. She’d never been this far west before.

“How uncomfortable are you?”

“Fairly.” She resisted the urge to tug at the bandage where it rubbed along the left side of her ribcage. “My skin gets sore.”

“How quickly can you rewrap, if necessary?”

She smiled up at him. “I’m quick. Maybe a minute or two. As I said, I haven’t much to wrap.”

He looked around, only there was nothing but rolling lush fields, beautiful lush trees, and those odd buildings in the distance. Behind them, Bree was but a smudge on the horizon. “Unwrap yourself then. At least for a night or two.”

“Here?”

He nodded. “No one is around and I promise,” a hint of mischief glinted in his blue eyes, “I will not try to peek.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Do you really promise?”

Another nod. “I really promise.”

And with that, he turned his back to her. She looked around, then dropped her sack, shrugged out of her scabbard and set the knives down, then tugged her tunic free to reach beneath it. The bandage was knotted between her breasts, and it took her only a minute to work it free and then, with a low sigh, she unwound the length of linen. At first, the sore patch just below her left breast stung, but after a minute or two, the sting faded. The relief was so great, she couldn’t hold back her lusty sigh.

Thorin turned back to her then. “Are you all right?”

She held up the roll of bandages, tossing it into the air and catching it in the same hand. “Freedom feels wonderful.”

He grinned and she didn’t miss the hint of blush that crept across his cheekbones. She couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “You are blushing, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“The deuce I am,” he retorted, turning away.

But she wasn’t letting him off that easily. She darted about to stand before him again. “You are, you know.”

Then, she tossed the bandages at him. “Catch!”

He did just that. “What are you about?”

“Did you ever have a splinter that hurt. That hurt no matter what and when you finally got it out, it just felt so good, that your mood improved tenfold?”

“I have.” He tossed the roll back to her. “If it hurts so much, why do it?”

“Because I have to. You don’t understand. You’re a man. A dwarf warrior. No one will trifle with you. I, however,” she pressed a hand against her chest, “have no such luxury. I have to pretend to be what you already are and hope no one learns the truth.”

“I know the truth.”

She dropped the roll into her sack and gazed up at him. “But I know you won’t tell anyone. I trust you.”

“No one will harm you, Seren. Not as long as I walk this earth with you.” He stepped closer. “I give you my word. If you wish to remain unbound, know you will be safe with us. With all of us.”

He sounded so serious, his eyes holding not a hint of mischief and his blush had vanished. She knew her trust had yet to be misplaced or unfounded. She nodded. “Will you tell anyone?”

“Not if you don’t wish me to, no.”

“Can I let you know once I’ve met everyone?”

“Of course.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“We should keep moving. We still have a bit of a way to go.”

She nodded and crouched to slip the sack’s strap over her shoulder again, then stood and they continued along the road to the Shire. The sun sank low, streaking blue and coral across the sky. Red skies. A promise of good weather to come. Thank the maker the rain had finally come to an end.

But the landscape was deceiving, as it seemed they wandered from one end of the Shire to the other. She began to wonder if Thorin had any clue as to where they were actually supposed to be when he stopped for the third time, muttered something under his breath and said, "There it is!"

It was a house built into the hillside, with brilliant green trim and a round door that looked like the bottom of a barrel. On the brilliant green door, someone had carved a sigil and Thorin sighed as he grumbled, “Easy to find, my foot.”

Seren peered through one of the windows. Warm light filled the interior, and she heard the cheerful stamping of feet and the muffled voices rising as one in song. A party? It seemed odd that this was where Gandalf had sent them, and she was about to say as much to Thorin when he rapped on the door with a fist.

She held her breath as it swung open and Thorin leaned in to say, “Gandalf! I thought you said this place was easy to find? We lost our way. Twice.” He ducked as he stepped through doorway. “We wouldn’t have found it at all, had it not been for the mark on the door. You remember Seren, don’t you?”

He turned, saw she still hung back, and reached to catch her by the wrist. As his fingers brushed hers, a jolt rippled along her arm, strong enough that her head snapped up and she looked at hi. But he didn’t seem to notice as he tugged, pulling her through the doorway into a small house. For the first time in her life, she felt tall—almost giantlike—in that house. Everything was small. The furniture was tiny, the ceilings were low, she almost had to bow her head as she followed Thorin into a cozy, warmly lit dining room and found herself staring at twelve very curious dwarves and one very stressed halfling.

“Who’ve you there?” A dwarf with huge white hair and an even bigger white beard, gestured to her.

“Everyone, this is Seren Gilwynn, of Dale. He will be accompanying us and—” he held up a hand as a chorus of protests rose—“Enough. I’ve seen him with steel and his fists. He will be an asset.”

Then, he turned to her. “Seren, this is the Company.” He pointed to the white haired dwarf and moved along the crowed, “Balin. Dwalin. Oín. Gloín. Bofur. Bifur. Bombur. Nori. Dori. Ori.”

Then he moved to two young dwarves, both strikingly handsome, one blond, the other dark. “Fili. Kili.”

His nephews. She smiled. There was no way she would ever remember all their names, but at the same time, she nodded and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

They all greeted her with friendly, if confused smiles and minutes later, she and Thorin sat at the table, plates of something delicious before them, and she just listened as Gandalf outlined their plan for retaking Erebor, with the halfling being the burglar who was going to take something called the Arkenstone. The halfling who looked terrified at the very prospect of doing so.

With a sigh, she settled back in her chair and just listened. And as she did so, she couldn’t help but gaze over at Thorin. Had he felt that jolt when they touched or was she just projecting what she wished he would feel? Because truth be told, she still had a crush on him. Only now, she was no longer a child and that could mean serious trouble for both of them.

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #fanfic writer appreciation day

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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The Past still hurts me - Luke Hemmings x Reader**

Summary: There was someone who was a big part of his life during his teen years and a couple after. Three years after Sounds Good Feels Good came out, that figure left. Luke never thought he would see (Y/N) again, but fate would have it that he did. And it wasn’t just her...

You walked to the coffee shop. It was a ritual every month, on the 4th of each one. The instance caused pain, but your presence was demanded by a well known Australian.

As you entered, you saw him, sat there, glancing over his coffee mug that was held to his mouth. His hair was shorter than it had been when you were young, but he was still Calum Hood.

He put the mug down as you sat opposite him, holding his hands together as he looked intently at you.

“What?” You asked him, turning your gaze away from his stare. Usually there would be laughing and reminiscing, but the bassist was in deep thought, utterly compelled by it.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to look at my friend.” He spoke. Over the years his voice had changed, all of theirs had, and you hated it. But you only really spoken to Cal now. He was the only one who could keep you stable. Grounded would be another word to describe it.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.” You said, noticing the crease between his brows deepening. He was raking his pupils over you. Searching. Looking for any excuse. Finally he sighed, giving in to your demand.

“Have you been using again?” He cared. It was nice, but you didn’t need his concern. You were fine. Perfectly fine.

But you felt offended. He always had to see if you had been dosing yourself in drugs, but you weren’t that user anymore. He should have had more trust in you.

“Of course not! Why would you even ask that?” You tried not to raise your voice too much, you didn’t need any more attention drawn to the pair of you. He was already a celebrity, and you were his bandmate’s ex. It was sure to draw eyes eventually, hence why the two of you would usually stay here for an hour, or just over.

“I just wanted to make sure.” Calum spoke softly, leaning over and resting his hand upon yours. “I know what you’ve been through.” He really didn’t. He just thought he did.

“Yeah...” Three years ago he was there for you, but you couldn’t do it. A part of you had wanted to, but you just couldn’t.

….

The two of you were in a waiting room, you were shaking as Calum put his arm around your shoulder. This was the right thing to do, for all involved. But you felt like a monster. This was a big decision, and you were happy you had Calum here so that you weren’t alone.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Luke didn’t know that this was where either of you were. Michael and Ashton were becoming suspicious, and they wouldn’t find out, ever, if you went through with it.

“I have to do this Cal. I can’t go into rehab with a baby.” That’s right, you were in an abortion clinic. Waiting for your appointment, waiting to kill your own child.

“Just know that there’s nothing wrong with it (Y/N), you just have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

….

Rehab had been a long haul. You hadn’t seen Luke or had any form of contact with him since he practically forced you to go. And that meant he hadn’t known about the baby. You had broken up by then anyway, but guilt still riddled you.

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Calum asked, watching your eyes flicker about in thought. What if there wasn’t anything to regret? What if you had also lied to him? What would he think of you?

“Not at all.” You regretted ever going to the clinic, thinking that could be a possible route. But you hadn’t gone through with it. You had the baby, when her cycle in your stomach was up. And she was at home right now, with her babysitter, probably scribbling on a bit of paper or balancing a crown on her blonde hair.

Calum’s phone began to ring from where it was laid on the table. His coffee stirred from the impact, and you looked away, suspecting it to be one of his band members.

“It's him.” That was code, although not a very good code, for Luke Hemmings. The father of the child no one knew that you had had. "Is it okay if I-"

"Answer it Cal." You smiled gently at him, before deciding to look down at you fingers. It's not like Luke could see you here, opposite Callum, but you still felt like he would judge you for it.

And so he did, grateful that you had allowed him to.

"What's up mate?" He asked casually, as if he wasn't with you. Neither of you were sure how Luke would react. And neither of you were too keen on finding out.

"Where are you?" You could hear Luke say. It had been so long since you had heard his voice, and you wished you could continue to listen to it. But you were interrupted from doing so.

Your own phone began to ring. It was the babysitter, you held your finger up to Callum, walking a bit away from the table the two of you were at.

"Is everything okay?" You asked immediately. Ever since you had (Y/D/N), you were concerned. You took as many procautions as you could, even to keep her a secret from the general public, including Luke and his friends.

You hadn't met with Callum after you grew a bump, but you still facetime his, only showing the neck up.

"She's been sick. She wants you." You had hired a good babysitter, but your daughter was ruthless when she didn't get her way.

She was only 2 and a bit, but for the entire time of her existence she had been your whole world. If she wanted you home, there was only thing you could do. Go home.

"I'll be there in 30 minutes. I'm on my way now." The call ended, and you went back to your table.

"I've got to go. It was good to see you." You said, leaning down to pick up your bag and hug Callum whilst he still had his phone against his ear.

"Okay be safe." He told you as he watched you rush out the door. It made him worry, there had to be some sort of an emergency that required your presence.

"That was a girl." Well done Luke. The statement made Callum freeze, as if Luke had caught them.

"Yeah it was." She wasn't his girl though, she had been Luke's.

....

You unlocked your door, rushing to get inside. Quickly shutting it behind you, you found the woman you hired and your daughter in the living room.

"Thankyou for calling me." She stood.

"No problem, I'm going to go home, but call me if you need anything." And that was one of the reasons you hired her. She was helpful, and a great support system.

"Will do." You smiled at her, watching her leave before going on your knees to reach your daughter who was chewing on her toys.

"Mummy." She cried, reaching to loop her arms around your neck.

"I'm here baby."

....

Callum entered Luke's apartment, hearing him and the other two boys in the living room.

"Hey." He said to them. Ashton only cheered at his arrival, coming over to pat his friend on the shoulder.

"Who's the lucky girl then Cal." Now this was awkward. That was to say the least. Callum reached his hadn behind him to run the back of his neck.

All three boys had their eyes trained on him. They were interested, but there was nothing to tell. Nothing he wanted to tell.

"There isn't one." It was the truth, even if it didn't seem like it.

"Bullshit." Luke announced. "I heard her, so what's her name."

It was so much easier when they were clueless to it all. When they had no interest in what he did with his free time outside of the band.

"She's just a friend." Michael laughed at that. But it was the truth, why couldn't they just accept that?

"Yeah right." Callum frowned, only for Michael to continue. "Don't act like we haven't noticed. You always have plans on the 4th of every month, clearly for a date."

"It's not a date."

"What is it then? Who is she?" Luke carelessly opened a beer. This was the moment that all would be revealed, but he didn't know what would be set out into the open.

"I check on (Y/N)." He answered, this time not steering around the elephant in the room.

"What?" Ashton was taken aback, and so were the others.

"She's out of rehab?" Luke asked. He was surprised, it had been 3 years, but they had informed him that you would probably be on there for around 5.

"Yeah, she is." Callum responded.

"How is she?" It was all that mattered to him. Luke set his drink down coming closer to Callum, needing to hear it all.

"Better." That was the only word he could think of. You looked healthier, even happy. He wasn't sure what had triggered the happiness, but for once it was neither drugs or Luke. It was something else, something you weren't informing him about.

"She hasn't called me." It was the first thing he had expected you to do when you got out. He hadn't been allowed to visit, but he had hoped at least you two could reconnect.

"I don't think she's going to." You looked like a deer in headlights when Luke had called him earlier.

"Give me your phone." Luke didn't ask, but he spoke gently. Callum struggled, he wanted to protect your privacy but he didn't want to see his friend suffer. "Please."

That was when the final straw broke. He couldn't refuse. Over the years you and Luke had been together, nothing had kept you two apart until the drugs came into the picture. And now that they were gone, Callum didn't want to be the obstacle that was in the way.

Instantly Luke scrolled and found your name, tapping on it so that he could hear it ring.

"What's up Cal?" You asked casually, not expecting to be speaking to anyone else.

"It's not Cal." Shit. It was Luke. "She hung up."

....

You walked through the park, your mini you holding your hand. It had grown colder, and you were wrapped up in layers of clothing, and so was (Y/D/N).

It was the 4th. Of the next month. Opposite the park was the cafe you met Callum at, and then you saw him looking out the window, seeing you.

He practically ran out the door when you attempted to walk out of his sight. "Wait (Y/N)."

There was no point in trying to flee now, he had already caught up to you. Defeated, you turned, holding your child's hand a little tighter.

"It's you this time then. No Luke?"

Callum looked down by your legs, seeing the creation of you and Luke.

"You lied, didn't you. You never went through with it."

"I couldn't." You argued back. At least now you could guide someone through life, teaching them better than you knew. "And I'd never go back if I could."

And then it clicked in his head. It wasn't a drug or Luke, as it once had been that gave you a sample of peace. It was this being that you had kept a secret.

"You didn't have to keep it to yourself. I could have been there for you. So could have Luke." You winced at the name. Your daughter looked strangely at the man, as if she was remembering his voice consoling you in the clinic before she was born.

"He forced me into rehab Callum. That hurt. I know I needed help, but he broke up with me and sent me away. A baby didn't need to be brought into that mess."

Callum sighed, running his palm against his buzzcut hair. This was complicated, and it wasn't his situation, but both you and Luke were his friends. You were both suffering, feeling the burn of the distance that had been wedged between the two of you over the years.

"There's no mess now, he deserves to know he has a kid (Y/N)."

And now you sighed, extending your hand expectedly. "Fine, give me your phone."

He did so immediately. He wasn't going to hesitate, it would only give you time to change your mind.

"Hey Cal." He sounded off, upset. It was probably your fault. Little did Luke know though that he was not talking to Callum.

"Luke."You spoke, looking down at the combination of you and him. She seemed confused, she was so young. She had no idea what was going on.

"(Y/N)?" His voice now sounded urgent, as if he needed confirmation that it was really you.

You told him your address. "Be there in an hour."

Cal smiled reassuringly. Perhaps things were on the mend. It would take time to reinstall the trust and all, but it'd be worth it. There was no point in throwing away all of those years when the two of you had a kid together, even if Luke didn't know about her yet.

....

The wall revelled in the attention of your eyes. What had you done all these years? You built up to a moment that was approaching.

Since (Y/D/N) was born, you never once doubted your decision in keeping her. When you had decided to secretly go through with the birth, you had been considering putting her up for adoption. You felt too young, and naiive and addicted.

But when you held your little girl in the arms for the first time, looking adoringly into her small chubby face, you realised you couldn't.

You couldn't give her away. Never in a million years. She gave you a reason to get better, not for Luke or yourself, for her. It gave you the purpose to be a mother, care for her each day, watch her grow and become a beautiful person.

Keeping it from Luke had never been your plan, at least not for that long. But you were scared, of him and what he might think.

Luke was the love of your life, up until you finished labor with your daughter. When you held her in your hands for the very first time, there was no weight attatched to her. She was we light as a feather and free of baggage, and from that, she helped you rid yourself of your own.

A knock interrupted your train of thought, making you look away from the plain, boring wall. It startled you, although you had been expecting it.

It could only be Luke Hemmings. If he were to angry when he discovered your large secret, he had every right to be. You had kept his child from him. Despite not wanting to face his anger ever again, you knew you had to.

She needed her father. It wasn't about you and Luke anymore, it was always about her, and always would be from now on.

Slowly, you walked to the door, imagining all the ways Luke would be pissed at you. It had been over 2 years since you had seen him, over 2 years since he had knocked you up.

Opening the door, you looked to see Luke. He was still tall obviously, but his hair was longer, he had lost the fringe and died it a little lighter. He looked good, other than the blossoming blue under his eyes.

"(Y/N)." It was nice to hear him say your name in person again, instead of through a phone.

A small smile crept up onto his face at seeing you wearing a large jumper that went down to your knees. You always wore that to bed, if you couldn't get your hands on one of his shirts. "Can I come in?"

You stepped aside, allowing him into your and (Y/D/N)'s home. He looked subtly around, tilting his head when he saw a child's drink bottle on the counter.

You bit your lip. "Do you want anything to drink?"

When he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through you, discovering all the little and big things you had kept from him.

"I'm okay." Luke smiled gently, keeping his blue eyes frozen on you. "Are you?"

You knew what he meant by that. He was wanting to know if rehab had actually helped. He wanted to know his reason for sending you away had actually worked.

"Callum probably told you that I'm better Luke. I didn't call you here to talk about me though. There's something else."

Something you had kept from him for years. Someone who meant the entire universe to you.

"What?" His voice remained gentle, as if he was afraid to lose you again.

"Just after we ended," he winced at the mention of it, "I found out I was pregnant."

His eyes widened, making them look even bluer. "Was it mine?"

Pursing your lips together you nodded your head. "Callum never said." He spoke.

"That's because he came with me when I went to get an abortion. I didn't want to go through rehab with a baby."

Luke's nostrils flared, but he maintained his composure, his arms flexing just a little. It was possible for him to understand, and he was trying to. You deserved to explain yourself, even if the truth hurt him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

That question broke your heart. Made it crack down the middle, all because of your own self protection.

"I was scared." It was the only thing you could think of.

"So was I when I found you overdosing, I can't even remember how many times I found you on the fucking bathroom floor."

It wasn't necessarily parts of your life you wanted to remember, but Luke clearly hadn't let them go. "I was bloody terrified. There was always the chance that you wouldn't wake up, that you'd stay under its influence. Being scared is no excuse for aborting our child (Y/N)! All parents are scared, and now I never had the chance to even know of their existence when they were alive! "

"She is alive Luke." You informed him, he wanted you to go. "I couldn't go through with it."

His laughed with his breath. "So Callum knew and I didn't?"

"He found out today Luke. In the park, when I called you." Callum didn't deserve any blame in this mess. He did nothing wrong, he was just a bystander, a supportive one. A friend, that only wanted to help.

"She?" He asked, catching up with the information. "We have a girl." He sat, giving up on arguing with you.

He should have remembered that arguments got the two of you nowhere. "Where is she?" His mind raced to you giving her up, although he didn't accuse you of doing such a thing this time.

"In her room. Asleep." You crossed your arms, looking at the man. "You can see her in the morning."

You sat at the table beside him. He looked forward, focusing on the wall that you had been before he had been welcomed inside. "Have you given it up?"

The drugs. That was what he meant.

"Since the day I found out I was pregnant." You reached your hand to his, letting your fingers run through his.

You wondered if he felt the spark. The running of blood. The pounding of his heart. You felt all of those things and more. You felt anger. Love.

"What's her name?" Back to your daughter.

"(Y/D/N)."

"It's a pretty name." He moved his hand away from yours, bringing it up to be positioned at the back of your neck, holding the hair beneath in his palm. "I still love you."

Your eyes met, it felt like two world colliding. "Then show me. Let me feel it. Let me feel you."

He didn't hesitate, he dragged the two of you up from your seats and pulled your mouth to his. It felt like nothing had changed.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it from his lanky body and discarding it on the floor.

"Bedroom?" He asked distractedly. You pulled him in the direction, losing the oversized jumper in the process.

You shut the door behind you, pushing the blonde man onto the bed. Straddling him, you felt his arm rub against your bare back. The contact elicited a moan from you which he devoured in his own mouth. He didn't want to wake your daughter up. That would be an awkward meeting.

As you sat on his lap, you felt his cock grow in his pants. Getting down on your knees, you unzipped them, even as Luke tried to drag you up to him.

"(Y/N), no teasing."It came out in a guttaral way. He was desperate for you, and so you pulled the layers on his legs down, pulling them from his ankles with his shoes and socks.

You grasped his shaft in your hand, pumping him, watching the head come out from the skin. You gave the tip a soft lip, making him throw his head back. "Stop."

"Fine." You sighed, rolling your (Y/E/C) eyes, you complied, climbing back onto his body.

Luke grasped his dick running it through your folds, gathering the moisture at his tip. "Now who's teasing?"

He shook his head, grasping one of your hips with his free hand, encouraging you to sink down on him.

It had been years since you had been this full, you had to adjust. "Fuck."

Your hands went to his chest when you felt ready to move, bringing yourself up his shaft and back down. You created a rhythm with your bodies, making the mattress squeak under the pressure.

Sweat began to gather upon Luke's forehead, he wiped it with the back of his hand, dismissing it from layering on top of his skin. And then he began to give hard thrusts up into you, making the pleasure almost unbearable.

"I'm not going to last if you keep doing that." You warned him through gasps of air. It was difficult not to squeeze your eyes closed, but you refused, wanting to seem him in a state of euphoria once more.

"That's the point." He responded, moaning at the end of his words.

And then it hit you, like headlights in the road. You came crashing down, your body molding closely to Luke's as you struggled to stay upright.

He gave a few more sharp thrusts from beneath you before letting go, cumming inside of you. "You didn't say it back."

Then you remembered. He had told you that he loved you. Your emotions were on overdrive right now, but you knew what you felt was real.

"I love you too."

....

Luke was still there when you awoke, his face mushed into a pillow and his arms around your waist. Luckily you were able to escape his grip without interrupting his slumber, and so you crept out of bed, going to the second bedroom in your apartment, picking up Luke's shirt from the kitchen floor and putting it on.

(Y/D/N) was still asleep in her crib. Soon she'd have a bigger bed, it felt like it was just yesterday when you had given birth to her.

You felt a presence behind you, and you turned defensively, only to be relieved upon seeing Luke.

"She's beautiful." He watched her with you, rubbing your shoulder contently.

You smiled at the comment. "I'm going to wake her up."

He took it as a hint to leave the room, deciding to turn the kettle on for the both of you.

It would be strange for your daughter to see a stranger as soon as she opened her eyes, and you were glad that he had considered that detail.

Going towards the bed, you picked her up, her eyes opening as you did so. "Come on baby, you're going to meet someone really special."

"Who?" She asked, looping her arms around your neck.

"You'll see." You entered the kitchen, finding Luke disposing of the tea bags, and then putting the tea spoon in the sink. "This is your daddy."

"Daddy?" She asked you, making Luke light up at hearing her voice. You continued walking slowly towards him.

"He's like mummy, but he's a man." You explained to her, as she had never known the term of a father up until now.

"Hi (Y/D/N)." He spoke to her watching as she mumbled a soft 'hi' back into your shoulder.

"She's shy." You told him.

"She's perfect."

....

As much as Luke loved his job, he didn't want to go to the studio. He wanted to stay with you and your daughter. Eventually you pushed him out the door, prompting him to leave.

"How did things go?" Callum asked him as they entered the building.

"I think we're back together." There wasn't confirmation, but it felt like the good old days, except with one difference. The addition that stole his heart.

"Mate, that's amazing." Callum stopped walking, Luke doing the same. "So you know about..."

"Her names (Y/D/N). She's perfect."

Callum couldn't help but smile at the twinkling in Luke's eyes. He was truly happy again.

"Hurry up." Michael pushed past them, Ashton stopping alongside the other two.

"Did something happen?" He noticed there was an unspoken tension. "Is this about (Y /N)?"

Ever since the other day since you had been mentioned, the boys noticed how quiet Luke was.

"It has everything to do with her. And (Y/D/N)." Luke smiled to himself. Michael came back over confused and wanting Intel.

"I know (Y/N), but who's the other one?" He asked.

"My daughter." That caused quite an uproar from the two boys. They were shocked, and obviously weren't expecting such a thing.

....

Luke got home, or at least what was your home. He had spoken to the boys and he wanted answers now. It had been a couple of weeks since he had spoken to them about it for the first time, and he was living the good life. But what were the two of you?

"Daddy." His daughter squealed, xlambering over to him.

"Hey princess." He picked her up in his arms, very easily may I say. "Where's mummy?"

"Potty." Bathroom then.

"Why don't you go draw while I check on mummy? I'll show it to all my friends and we can put it on the fridge, yeah ?"

She seemed to like that idea and scrambled off to her room.

Luke went and stood outside the bathroom. He could hear you emptying your guts, vomiting into the bowl. "You okay in there babe?"

"Fine." Clealry you weren't, so he twisted the door knob, finding you on your knees in from of the toilet, tears in your eyes from how much your throat burned.

"You're not fine." He came down beside you, pulling your hair back and stroking it out of your face.

"I'm pregnant." You groaned, passing him the test from where it was on the floor beside the bathroom counter.

You remembered how you felt when this all started for the first time. Callum was there for you, but now Luke was here.

"That's great." He pulled your body close to him, running his hand over the material that was ontop of your stomach.

And now he had to ask, for the sake of your second child together. "What are we?"

"Luke and (Y/N)." You answered. And that was confirmation enough to know that the two of you were more than an item. It was how you always used to describe the two of you.

The Past still hurt, but the present was bringing happiness, healing the old wounds, ceiling them up. They no longer needed to air out the truth, there were no more secrets.

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nuttyjellyfishlover · 3 years ago

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One Piece Anime Wano Arc Episodes 890

One Piece Anime: Wano Arc, Episodes 890 This honestly is less going to be a review and more of a commentary as I watch through the anime's rendition of the Wano arc. I've honestly never really watched too much of the One Pieceanime, mostly just looking up the highlights of the arcs I read in the manga. I did watch the filler episodes and most of the movies, as I've talked about at length recently. And everyone tells me that the anime has some rather terrible pacing, particularly around the time of Dressrossa, which is apparently pretty padded out. But then I heard the absolute opposite for Wano, where the anime has received a new art-style and one hell of a fancy makeover. And I thought... hey, I'm on a One Piece kick this year, clearly, so yeah, I think I'm going to give this a shot.

The Wano arc, I think, is one that works a lot better because it has the reverse problem of a lot of One Piece arcs -- there are a lot of moments in Act One of the manga's version of the story that the writer clearly purposefully threw in a couple of off-screened moments that the anime could expand into full action scenes. I already know that Sanji versus Page One is fully animated in the anime, and scenes like Big Mom vs. Kaido or Zoro vs. Basil Hawkins are extended a lot more than the couple of panels we had in the manga. And Wano's got a lot of supporting characters, some of which actually get swept under the rug when I first read through the manga chapters weekly. So yeah, having bright colours and voices and music is going to make this a much more fun experience!

Anyway, here goes my collection of random notes and commentary. Be aware that there will be MANGA SPOILERS, as I will point out a couple of things here and there about stuff I notice that's foreshadowing or whatever:

* Marco's blue-and-yellow phoenix form looks so, so much more vibrant and pops out compared to anything else in the series in colour, huh? I think out of any other character, Marco is extra-memorable in animated format. * That said, basically half this episode is just a recap of the Paramount War. I mean, I haven't seen the Paramount War in full animated format, so it's nice to hear Whitebeard and Ace and Marco speak some of their more famous lines there. But on the other hand, it's also it's kind of one of the more-criticized parts of the One Piece anime that any time they could pad out an episode with scenes from a previously-produced episode, they will. * We actually get to see the Grudge/Payback War in the anime! I think this is less of a showcase of events that actually happened and more of a symbolic one, but hey, we get to see Blackbeard doing some sky-quakes and black holes and Marco turning phoenix. It just shows the Whitebeard division commanders getting sucked into a giant Dragon-Ball-esque spirit bomb Black Hole. Actually pretty neat! * Jozu has both arms in that vision. Whether it's an error or a spoiler or if he has a prosthetic a la Akainu in Film: Z, we'll see eventually.

* This episode also has a bit of a recap of the revelations about Wano from the Zou arc, but it's a lot shorter and feels a lot more relevant to the upcoming arc. * Brook actually expresses some interest on Vivi, apparently having heard of her from the others. I've always liked this from the filler episodes, of the newer Straw Hats slowly learning about prior adventures. Brook being Brook, of course, a panty joke was tossed in. * The Japanese-art style water waves look so pretty when animated! * The random octopus that makes Japanese kabuki theater (?) sounds is another thing that works so much better in the anime. I've always thought it felt a bit forced and random in the manga version. * The high-tempo music when the Sunny sails into the koi waves is very, very fun! * Ah, yes, the very first chapter of Wano in the manga shows off a bunch of carps jumping up a waterfall. You know, considering the whole legend that a carp that jumps over the waterfall transforms into a dragon... i.e., a fish that is also a dragon...

* The first one that's properly and almost fully drawn in the new Wano art style! And it looks gorgeous. * Also a new theme song! I've never paid that much attention to theme songs in anime, but I definitely like "One Dream One Wish" more than "We're the Super Powers". Shame that, as with most anime, the opening sort of spoils, like, half of the things that happens in the arc. * Speaking of great background music... the tempo of that opening instrumental that Komurasaki plays on shamisen is pretty catchy, especially with that octopus going iyooo~ in the background. It also makes for very fun background music for Zoro's rampage at the end of the episode. * Anime Wano is so freaking colourful. The rooftops, the kimonos, the hair... I think I remembered reading that Oda made it a point to subvert the fact that everyone in feudal Japan had black hair by explicitly doing the opposite -- black hair is the exception rather than the norm in Wano. Fun! * The frog on Usopp's hat is a real frog! I always thought it was just a hat! It's adorable! The wiki tells me it's called Gama Pyonnosuke. It's an adorable friend! Forget Carrot or Kin'emon or Yamato, Gama Pyonnosuke for next Straw Hat! * The biggest expansion here is that we actually follow Zoro around as he wanders around the city until he gets arrested by the corrupt magistrate. And Zoro actually bumps into the man-slayer and corrupt magistrate, actually explaining why he recognizes the specific scent of blood during the whole seppuku court. * And then we get around a minute of Zoro fighting the magistrate guards with the seppuku knife and good ol' fisticuffs, something that I didn't think I needed, but is certainly very fun to watch! * This new animation studio loves the angled zoom-in into eyes, and I highly approve. I think we had that like at least three times when Zoro decides to get dangerous.

* I never quite realized that if Luffy hadn't been interrupted by the octopus and washed up next to the Thousand Sunny, the poor ship would be literally left to its own devices. You'd think after losing Merry, the Straw Hats would be more careful with their ships... * Zoro gets to slash the magistrates up even more! It's a single Tatsu Maki, but god damn what a pretty Tatsu Maki. The shot of his feet kicking and breaking the wooden floor, the black aura around his blades, the way that the dragon aura appears behind him, the demonic red eyes as Zoro slams down from the sky, and the shots of the surrounding terrain being cut up into cubes... pretty awesome! * Luffy dodging the bullet from the random Beast Pirate goon with Observation Haki and the gomu-gomu-long-range-bitchslap has always been cool in the manga, and this episode makes it even cooler. Those glowing eyes! This is going to be the whole commentary, isn't it? Just me commenting on the scenes I find to be really cool? * Luffy's Conqueror Haki against the giant baboon is another very cool one. From the expression to the delivery of the line to the sound effect... Luffy's expression is actually pretty cool and borderline scary as he beats up the second goon. No wonder Tama went straight into "This is the I surrender pose!" * Also added in the anime is a vignette of Franky, Robin and Usopp seeing the news of Zorojuro becoming a wanted criminal. Again, not entirely necessary to know the story, but actually scenes that I don't mind being shown to us. Particularly that scene of Usopp utterly bullshitting an officer. * Luffy pets Komachiyo with his rubber arms. Komachiyo is a good boy. This is the most important scene.

* Did the manga show Luffy hiding the Sunny and letting it anchor in a cave? I don't remember it. I know that before the flashback and the raid we see the Sunny there, but it's nice to actually show Luffy not being so callous with the Sunny. * They got a pretty good voice actress for Tama that really makes her pretty adorable! So many times these kid guest star characters end up being annoying if they don't get a good voice, but between the voice-acting and the expressions, she's pretty fun! * Also, I think this is going to be something I repeat a couple of times, but both Tama and Tenguyama are so much more visually interesting with their full colour palettes. * Oh, right, Drake was the one that ransacked Tama's village. Wonder if that'll actually come up later on in the story... * Okay, thanks to the anime, it's really going to drill to me that it's pronounced 'Diez Drake' and not 'Eks Drake'. * I'm pretty sure everyone noticed it, but Ace learned to weave hats in Wano! That's how he became buddies with Oars Junior! I didn't notice it until just now!

* (Episode is the Cidre Guild filler arc that ties in to Stampede.) * What is Tenguyama waiting for? It's probably Oden or his retainers, but I don't think he's part of the samurai that was recruited by Kin'emon's group. Maybe he just missed the big recruitment drive, but that's weird. I wonder what role he's going to play in the arc... * There is a random metal guitar riff when Luffy sees the Nidai Kitetsu. And a glow of Observation Haki on Luffy's eyes. That's a small detail, but very cool! He also uses Observation when Hawkins arrives later on. I love the little trail of glowing red that streams out of his pupils when he activates it. * Tenguyama's sword has a very cool leaf-based handguard! Never noticed that. * Speaking of cool Observation Haki effects, Zoro's apparently activates when he senses sake. Appropriate! * I know it's me repeating this over and over, and we'll get so many cooler scenes later on, but Zoro casually launching that Phoenix Cannon to blow up the two random raptor-riders when he saves Tsuru? Such a simple scene but still so cool. Also very cool is the very brief slo-mo as Zoro re-angles the pathway of his slice when cutting down the second random goon. * Unlike most of the other things, I've always noticed that Basil Hawkins has a very cool Koma-deer mount. It looks even cooler in motion!

* This is perhaps one of the more extended scenes, since it features... fight scenes! In the manga, I think this lasted... maybe half a chapter? Less? A couple of page spreads? It's not just the Hawkins fight, either, Luffy's 'swordfighting' with Nidai Kitetsu also gets extended. Luffy's a bit more successful in using the sword to block and parry here. * Luffy's voice actor really makes the 'de gozaru' sound really funny. * I 100% missed Tsuru the first time I read through this chapter since we only see part of her in a single panel before her full-body debut after the Hawkins fight, and it's a lot less likely that you'll make that mistake in the anime. * Some 'elite' goons show up here, including a guy that uses his ponytail as a whip against Zoro, and a dude that makes fissures with a hammer that fights Luffy. Probably feels a bit more filler-y compared to the rest of the action scenes, but that's honestly nitpicking. * Zoro launching a Phoenix Cannon that slashes Hawkins's face is very cool. * Hawkins' little straw dolls gets an extended scene of it crawling out of his arm. It's so creepy, I love it. * Hawkins' giant straw demon StandBankaigets an very cool summoning animation and it's so creepy. The skies darkens and everything. Most importantly, it makes noises! Again, I love it.

* Luffy and Zoro vs. Hawkins! It's extended beyond just the simple 'dodge, then one-shot-slash' that it was in the manga. I really like Hawkins and his creepy-ass Straw Stand, so I am a huge fan of this. We get a couple of nice juxtaposition shots of Hawkins and the straw monster. Also Zoro goes shirtless in the fight. That's an important detail! * I really, really love how Zoro is having a gritted-teeth expression as he fights the giant straw demon; the straw demon is going gakakakakakakaka like a lunatic... then we cut to Hawkins who has a deadpan, bored expression as he swings his sword in the distance. * The animators really like to let the straw monster use the nails entwined to the tips of its fingers. That's fun! Zoro backhand-blocking the nails from hitting Luffy and Tama? That's cool! * Zoro does Ichi-Gorilla-Ni-Gorilla at one point, and totally slices and 'kills' Hawkins a bunch of times. * Also, speaking of pretty, glowing-eyes motion shots, Zoro using Nigiri: Toro Samon? Yeah. The cut itself is cool, but the zoom-in on Zoro's eyes as he does so? I'm sorry, I have a weakness for that kind of shot, it appears. * To extend the fight so that it's not just a single exchange of blows, Komachiyo gets knocked to the ground so that Zoro and the straw demon can actually fight for a bit. * Also shots I have a weakness to? DBZ-style 'aftermath of a powerful move'. This one isn't too over-the-top, but the slash extending into the sky and the shockwave rippling out from where Zoro slices the strawman thing is cool. * We actually see the scene of Okiku being harassed by Urashima in chronological order, and Urashima scares off a customer. Also, the implied scene of Zoro scaring off Urashima is actually shown here.

* This episode kind of extends the scenes in Tsuru's shop a bit more. Not the most exciting thing, but it does really help to build up Tama, Tsuru and Kiku. * ...wait, Tsuru's shop just displays the Kozuki crest very, very evidently on its door awning. If simply speaking the Kozuki name alone is a punishable crime, how did they get away with that? * Zoro trying to get Luffy to adopt a Wano-ized name is extra-funny in the anime! * Speaking of extended fight scenes, Batman gets to shoot alotmore arrows at Luffy and Zoro. It's kind of over-the-top on Batman's part, if we're being honest, even if Zoro and Luffy very easily dispatches of them.

* The anime does give Batman the ability to control his arrows via sonic waves or something, but he lasted for a much, much longer time than he really should have. * Batman fucking blocks Luffy's Busoshoku-empowered punch! He most definitely doesn't do it in the manga, and sure, knocking Luffy down with sonic waves? I buy that. Blocking Luffy and causing a small explosion in the air? ...I'm pretty sure just some random Gifter isn't supposed to be able to do that. Unless they're thinking of the other Batman? * They make the initial shot of Holdem answering the phone with the lion face pretty intimidating! * Holdem's lion beating their shared balls is still one of the weirdest jokes in the manga. * Some really nice face shots in this one, from Tama to Holdem to the lion to Luffy's group.

* A pretty obvious extended filler is Urashima bullying other sumo wrestlers. Urashima is kind of a dipshit, so it's not a particularly enjoyable filler for me. * Zoro gets to sumo-wrestle with one of Urashima's goons! This one, on the other hand, is pretty fun. We also get a little added bit where Zoro smirks after remembering Kiku's earlier insistence that she's a samurai, so it's less of a 'he doesn't give a shit' and more 'he wants to see what Kiku's skill is' or something.

* Luffy vs. Urashima is prolonged a bit in here, obviously. Not as entertaining as fighting Hawkins or even Batman, but okay, sure. Lots of grunting and growling in this one. Urashima cheats a bit more, Luffy has to use Armament Haki at one point... really don't think Urashima's someone that you should bother using hardening on, Luffy. * The kabuki-style delivery of "I'm going to be the king of pirates" is very well done. * Poor Tama! Holdem's a jackass. * We actually get to see Urashima crashing into Holdem's house, in yet another obvious 'hey, anime team, this is something for you to animate' scene from the manga. * Law gets an extended scene with seeing the sick Bepo, including a Room/Scan showcase and Bepo looking cute and Law being unable to keep being angry at him.

* The fight against the pirates and samurai in Bakura Town gets extended a fair bit in this episode. Luffy throws Nidai Kitetsu's scabbard around again, repeating the thing he did before. * This episode noticeably has a bunch of brief flashbacks to previous episodes. Anime episodes do this all the time to easily eat up like, ten or fifteen seconds of runtime. But I felt this one was particularly noticeable since it's to the previous episode which we already had a recap segment of before the episode begun. * Ball-de-boo!

* We get an adorable crayon drawing memory when Luffy remembers Zunisha one-shotting Jack's fleet. * Luffy and Zoro's synchronized neck-crick is pretty fun. Also fun is their super-speed when they simultaneously rescue Tama and steal the food barge. The question is, where is this super-speed when they were bamboozled by Batman and Gazelleman? * Unlike the anime, Holdem is able to turn his sword into a flaming segmented sword. It's like Zabimaru from Bleach, but on fire! * We get an extra scene of a random goon holding Kiku hostage and Zoro locking eyes with her and saying "I'm not going to help you", knowing full well she's pretending to be a damsel in distress. * Speed also gets to do something here! She gets to shoot Armament Haki'd arrows at Zoro and Kiku! In the manga she doesn't do anything while this is happening. * REDDO HAAAAAWK! * God damn that's a very satisfying Red Hawk. Such a pretty-looking one! This was the scene that a friend showed me that got me excited to sit down and watch the Wano arc in anime format. From Holdem shooting a lion's fire (how does that work?) and engulfing Luffy, to Tama's yelling, to the zoom-in to Luffy's angry eyes, to the orb of flame dissipating, the zoom-in to Luffy's angry face, the impact, the music... it's just Luffy beating up Holdem, who means jack-all in the grand scheme of things, but what a badass Red Hawk.

And I think that's a neat place to stop off, with the initial Hawkins-Urashima-Holdem opening prologue to Wano done with. I'm not sure how often I'll update this little watch-along series, but I certainly am enjoying myself!

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charliesradiodemon · 5 years ago

Text

Charlastor Week Day 3: Cooking

(I’m cheating here lmao sorry. This one was gonna be the Human AU fic but then I had a better idea for both prompts in terms of direction

Also is this fic about a healthy relationship? Nah.

Warning: contains blood, talking about cannibalism and murder)

Day 3 Cooking

“Alastor!“ a sharp gasp made Alastor whip his head around to the shack’s door. Blood had splattered across his wicked grin. He found the silhouette of who he recognized was Charlie standing at the door. He couldn’t see her expression due to the outside light behind her obscuring her face, but he could only imagine the delicious horror that graced her features.

The bloodthirst set in once more and the one thing he wanted to see was his lover and prey’s face twisted in horror and despair before her sweet light drained from her eyes.

It was too bad. Charlie was a special gal who was closest to his heart than anyone ever could ever get. In a way he did find a kind of love with her in their three years together. She was always lovely and interesting and the fact that she hadn’t bored him yet surprised him. It certainly was a crying shame that his favorite prey was about to meet her end now that she’d seen too much. He had no doubt that he’d miss her as he savored each delicious piece of her.

Through the obscurity, Alastor could see that she brought her clasped hands to her chest. “You...” she paused.

Alastor approached slowly, a butcher’s knife in hand. “Yes, Charlie?”

She stood in place and didn’t move. While he appreciated her thoughtfulness to not run away and just accept her fate, Alastor was partially disappointed that he couldn’t give chase to the doe. After all, they always tasted best when they desperately fought for their lives. “You’re the New Orleans Butcher...” she whispered just enough for the two of them to hear.

‘She even whispered my secret. What a lovely, thoughtful girl.’

With a wide grin, he replied with confidence. “Yes indeedy! And what are you-“ he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks unable to continue.

Once he was close enough so that the light that obscured her face dissipated, Alastor found a small smile on her lovely face. She even seemed to be suppressing a laugh even.

“And here I was worrying about that...”

His smile remained but faltered slightly at the sight. What about this situation was so funny? Did she not understand what was going on? He almost felt concerned for the strange woman. “Worrying about what my dear?” Why was this so funny to her? She was about to die by her lover’s hand!

“Alastor... I think we’ve been hiding some crazy secrets from each other.”

The man tightened his grip on the bloodied butcher’s knife in his hand. “What do you mean?”

She stepped closer with her relieved smile in place, impossibly calm as she approached slowly. “I’ve been thinking about the future a lot recently. And I know this is selfish of me, but one day I’ll have to leave. And I was thinking, when that time came I’d never see you again. I’ve always wanted to see the good in people and see them go to Heaven, but you... I-I was sure you’d go to Heaven and I’d never get to see you again. And it’s awful, but somehow... I’m relieved,” She was now in front of him, no trace of fear in her eyes. Only a soft smile full of joy and tearful relief. Alastor had no idea how to react. He couldn’t move his legs let alone lift his arm to end the odd woman.

His lover looked up at him, her brown eyes clear even under the dim light. But then she blinked and Alastor could have sworn he’d snapped. Her sclera glowed a brilliant red while the iris was a golden ring around her black pupils. The sound of something sprouting from Charlie’s head took his attention away from her eyes. Two long horns sprouted amongst rapidly growing golden hair.

“M-my word...” Alastor whispered, not knowing what else to say. His heart pounded in his chest, making him feel all sorts of emotions. But none of those emotions were negative in the slightest.

“I’m sorry if this is too much for you. I didn’t want you to see me this way.” Seeing his expression and hearing his tone, Charlie’s gaze fell to the floor in assumed dejection. She probably looked like a hideous monster to him. She acted too hastily and now she had to be ready for whatever came next.

“What are you then, my love?” The words made Charlie’s eyes widen in shock. The term of endearment truly caught her off guard and for a moment she didn’t know what to do other than look back up at him with the same shocked expression he had just a moment ago. “You can tell me Charlie.”

His expression softened back to the smile she was familiar with as if a moment ago he wasn’t planning his next meal around her. His darkened eyes were almost loving. If he was frightened at all, he was good at hiding it.

Charlie clasped her hands together, suddenly feeling awkward and shy. “I-I’m a demon. I’m from H-Hell.”

It came to Alastor as a surprise. She was the single most pure creature to exist. What had she done to earn her eternal damnation? “It can’t possibly be. You’re the sweetest little thing to grace the Earth. Tell me, how is it you ended up in Hell?”

The ease of his questions only surprised Charlie further. It was as if this was just a normal occurrence and he was asking her about her day. “I was born there.” She replied truthfully, attempting to sound natural about it.

Alastor, butcher knife still in hand, placed his free hand on her shoulder and continued, “So when you said you had to go home one day, did you mean that you were going back to Hell?”

Charlie nodded and suddenly she was drawn into his arms. “You silly, sweet girl.” Charlie felt the handle of the butcher’s knife pressing against her back, but she wasn’t worried. She trusted her Alastor, not like the cleaver would harm her anyway. She reciprocated the hug with a small smile until she realized something.

She peered up at him with a questioning look. “And what about you? How long has this been going on?”

Alastor hummed as he thought for a moment. “About seven years or so,” he said casually as if he were just speaking about the weather. It nearly unnerved Charlie that he was so casual and calm about this. Then again, she wasn’t any better with her own secret.

“So I suppose I’ll be seeing you in Hell one day.” He chuckled, pulling away slightly to look her down.

He failed to mention what exactly he did with those he slaughtered. He also failed to mention that Charlie herself would have eventually ended up as another source of food for him once he felt she outlived her entertainment.

“I’ve been here for three. Wow... I never would have suspected!” She pulled out of his embrace, not realizing that she was now covered in blood.

“Yes that is the point, darling. If everyone suspected, well I just wouldn’t be here now would I?” He laughed with a shrug. To his surprise, Charlie let out a closed-mouthed giggle. Then again she was a demon, murder must not mean much to her.

Alastor raised his eyebrows and grinned widely. “So as a demon would you approve?”

“I mean as a demon I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to “tempt” people to sin. But I also don’t necessarily like it. I... really don’t actually.” she said hesitantly as she turned her gaze to the bloodied workbench in the corner. It still held the fresh corpse of a man Charlie couldn’t recognize.

‘What was he going to do with the man? None of the bodies of his victims have ever been found... The only thing the New Orleans Slasher would leave behind were splatters of blood and bits of his victims.’

Alastor belted a hearty chuckle. “You’re not a very good demon, dear.”

“Ah yeah...” she huffed an awkward chuckle as she turned her attention back to her lover in front of her. “My dad’s reminded me of that for a while now...”

“I bet. Now as much as I’d love to continue this conversation, this isn’t the place for that my love,” he nodded to the door and shot her a reassuring grin. “Why don’t you head back in the house and once I’m done out here we can talk.”

Charlie smiled half relieved and half gratefully. She leaned up and kissed the part of his cheek that was free of blood. “Sounds good. Do you want me to make you anything?” Her demonic form dissipated with another blink of an eye, which Alastor watched with full interest before walking back to the workbench.

“Coffee would be nice sweetheart. Oh and I must apologize. It seems I’ve left a mess on you.” he gestured toward her front and Charlie immediately looked down. She jumped in surprise and then sighed.

Charlie pouted and inspected her dress. “Al, you need to be more careful! I’m really not supposed to do this but...” she paused and snapped her fingers. A rush of hellfire consumed her for a split second before revealing a spotless dress on the slasher’s cleaned lover. He was at a loss for words at the spectacle. Charlie let out a content breath and continued, “This is my favorite dress!” She turned and made it back to the threshold before turning back to Alastor, who looked dumbfounded. “Please make sure to wash up before you come back in please? Blood isn’t fun to wash up you know.”

Alastor awoke from his daze. He nearly burst out laughing, but merely chuckled at the odd request. “Yes dear.”

Once the door closed, Alastor went back to work feeling a strange sense of ease, excitement and intrigue all in one sensation. Who was once his prey and simple ingredient was now his confidant. It almost felt good keeping someone who knew of his hobby around strangely enough. Maybe it was the sudden rush of adrenaline?

Or maybe it was because he’d realized that he’d taken a demon for a lover. And while he did genuinely love Charlie in a strange way, knowing now that she was a demon only seemed to spark a new feeling of excitement that he refused to extinguish. “A demon...” he muttered as he cut away at the bone of his latest kill. “The little dear is just full of surprises.”

He made quick work of his preparations. Once he packed and stored his future meal in a natural underground freezer, he wiped off the excess blood from his person, per Charlie’s request. The underground storage was at the peak temperature to store meats now that the first snowfall coated the ground. Properly packed, the human flesh would hold up longer. He’d make a fine meal later, but first he needed to chat with his lovely demon waiting for him.

He found her in the sitting room, reading a book peacefully with a pair of steaming cups beside her. When she heard his footsteps, she looked to the door and smiled. “Your coffee’s waiting for you.”

Alastor took the cup closest to his unoccupied chair and took a sip. “Thank you darling. Now, I hope you know I have plenty of questions. And I’m sure you do too.” he walked to the sofa and set his coffee cup down on the coffee table. He pat the seat next to him, to which Charlie smiled and obliged. He took her hand in her’s and let their clasped hands rest on the cushion between them.

The little demoness turned to face him, looking like she was ready to burst. “Alastor, I actually only have one question for you.”

“Go on.” he replied calmly.

She tensed. Alastor detected this sign of distress but remained unmoved. “Did you... ever feed me human...?” Charlie asked shyly. She prayed that her thoughts were wrong. She pieced together that he probably ate his victims seeing how he put so much care into the butchering of his victims.

“Oh no dear, I would never,” he replied promptly. He felt Charlie relax as soon as he said it. She wouldn’t know how to feel if she found out that she ate human meat. She’d had so many meals at Alastor’s house that once the idea entered her mind, she feared for the worst. “Not only would it be rude to feed it to someone who would not appreciate the taste of human flesh, I am also selfish. I don’t have it often, but I’m willing to share with you if you-“

Once her question was answered satisfactorily, she cut him off. “Nope! No no no thank you!” She shook her head wildly and crossed her arms into an ‘X’. “You can have all of it.” once she finished speaking, she placed her hand back into his grasp and plopped her head onto his shoulders with a sigh.

Alastor chuckled and took another sip of coffee while it still steamed in its cup. “How generous of you, dearest. You’re a demon are you not? I’m surprised that you have an aversion for human flesh!”

“Haha... yeah... I’m just not the biggest fan...”

They spoke for a bit longer before the grandfather clock reminded the pair of the time.

“Oh! I haven’t prepared dinner yet!” Charlie cried. She let go of Alastor’s hand and stood. She made her way toward the kitchen before turning to Alastor. “What would you like for dinner? We still have venison.”

Alastor stood as well and grinned. “Allow me to assist you my love. I’m sure my talents with flesh will help you greatly.”

Charlie scoffed and nodded. “Alright come on funny guy.”

It didn’t feel right, but she was happy. Sure he committed heinous actions, and he probably intended to turn on her one day, but Alastor was still the same Alastor she knew. It was awful but she wasn’t fazed by his hobby for murder and consumption of other humans. Once she was gone, it was inevitable that he’d one day find himself in the fiery pits of Hell and reunite with her. It didn’t matter what he did at this point. As long as he stayed by her side, she’d be content.

#charlastorweek #charlastorweek2020 #charlastor #charlastor fic #day 3

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trunkzbriefs · 4 years ago

Note

Any Son and/or Briefs family headcanons? Spicy hot takes? Truths Toriyama and Toyotaro themselves can not handle? Straight up lies?

GODDAMN SORRY this took a while cause i suck at putting thoughts together. i apologize for my obvious briefs bias i have more hcs for them than the son family despite loving them both :pensive: anyway heres some random stuff

briefs hcs:

all of the briefs are pros at non-verbal communication. i hc that saiyans have their own language (and also in my own Mind Canon they still have their fuckin tails) and a lot of it is done through tail movement/body posture/grunts/etc. etc so theyve all sort of picked that up. even bulma, who doesnt have a tail, is pretty good at getting across what she means without actually speaking. they still do speak normally but it comes in handy sometimes considering that both trunks and vegeta are prone to running out of speaking energy or getting very frustrated with words, so having another way to communicate works very well for them

vegeta is fffffffffffffffffffurry. without getting too deep into my own General Saiyan hcs (thats why i made a whole ass four subspecies!!) i think that the entirety of planet vegeta tended to be very hot aside from the part where the castle was, where the temperature would drop. meaning that saiyans working in the palace would grow thicker fur around certain parts of their body, and in the royal saiyans theyd be Especially fluffy. he kept it down on earth, but he has thick patches of fur around the bottom parts of his arms and legs. kind of like snowy boots and gloves! he also has fur that grows in on his neck like a lions mane.

future trunks is an actions sponge, vegeta is a words sponge. vegeta will pick up words VERY quickly regardless if he fully understands the meaning of it or not (completely inspired by 'THATS RIGHT BOYS... MONDO COOL' in z) and future trunks will unintentionally mimic the actions of people - around people he looks up to he might take a few small mannerisms from but this extends to copying the disposition of anyone; he's just very adaptive. this is the most obvious (and funniest) when he's around vegeta bc it really shows like. yeah damn that sure is vegeta's son

vegeta & bulla have an intimidating bastard smirk naturally. their natural smiles are pretty frightening and they have to put effort into a 'normal' one. this also extends to current trunks, his default smile is the Vegeta Bastard Smirk but he learned to have a normal smile quicker than his father and sister. future trunks has a slightly unnerving natural smile (the fact that his pupils are always drawn so fucking small makes me hc that he just has a very intimidating look of 'cat thats about to pounce on an unfortunate trapped mouse' whenever he smiles) but he learned to look normal even quicker than current trunks since he's around humans a Lot and is sort of their uh, Hope. don't want to look scary to the people who depend on you!

bulma has some fighting knowledge and mildly good ki control. vegeta taught her it as a just in case so that she'd be able to defend herself against Bigger threats if he wasn't there and also so she could raise her own ki to alert someone to her if she had to.

vegeta is extremely clean and can not stand to have things disorganized for more than like... an hour before he has to tidy everything up. every time he goes down to the lab and bulma is passed out in a pile of bolts and circuit boards it kills him inside just a little bit

future trunks has little concept of power control. since his timeline was always in danger it wasn't really an important thing for him to learn. the amount of mugs he's accidentally crushed is impressive

vegeta tends to not sound like he's asking questions when he is. he doesn't add the proper infliction to the end of his questions and just sounds flat most of the time. it's confusing to people who dont know him well.

im not even gonna lie, im a BIG fan of the chill demon panchy headcanon so i love the idea that the briefs have a Lil bit of demon in them but just dont know it ghjnkm

[banging my fists on the 'hcs that not even got could take away from me' table] future trunks has OCD

vegeta doesn't really get labels but he's bisexual & "debatably a man", bulma is bisexal & bigender transfem (sometimes shes Wamen and other times its like "gender? no"), bulla is a nonbinary lesbian, current trunks is a bisexual trans man & future bulma forgot to explain the concept of gender and sexuality to future trunks so he's a little confused on that front and his gender & sexuality are "i have literally never thought abt these concepts in my life but i think men are nice. i refuse to think about gender though" (i actually have two main hcs for future trunks which are either gay trans man or more-feminine-presenting nonbinary bisexual)

son hcs:

goku is Not as fluffy as vegeta at all, but he does have fur on certain parts of his body. namely on the back of his elbows + ankles, down his back connecting to his tail, and on his shoulders. its inherented from gine!

gohan is learning saiyan language from vegeta! vegeta acts grumpy about it but he's glad to have someone to teach. when gohan learned that most of the history had been lost he basically wished shenron for a big ol book on saiyan culture and gave it to vegeta just as an act of kindness and vegeta was like [in an angry voice but very touched] "Ok. Sit down. You're learning." by extension gohan is also teaching the rest of his family!

i will take ox king being actually non-human to my grave so like, chichi has horns and a very short ox tail! gohan and goten both have horns, but they're hidden by hair. goten's horns are bigger than gohans.

goten also has a more ox-like tail, with a little puff of fur at the end. generally, gohan looks more saiyan-like and goten looks more ox/human-like.

although he keeps up his cheery demeanor very well, goku is still haunted pretty badly by like... everything that’s happened in his life. he still has frequent nightmares about cell & buu specifically.

gohan will freak out at worse, zone out at best, if he's even tapped on the neck. it reminds him of the whole 'getting his neck snapped on namek' so that area is pretty off limits to everyone

goten gets along really well with android 17. they both have a love for nature and 17s kind of like his chill uncle, so whenever he gets too stressed out or just needs a break you can find him face down on the ground outside of 17's place on monster island.

goku is really really good at remembering completely random shit. bulma uses this to her advantage whenever she's working and has him memorize random technology stuff. a week later goku can not remember what he had for breakfast that morning but as soon as bulma asks "hey do you remember what i told you last week" hes like "oh yeah sure i have no idea what it means but [blurts out three hours worth of technical garble]"

oh boy is this a headcanon that has a lot more depth to it than just a bullet on a tumblr post, but gohan has DID!

goku, like vegeta, doesnt get labels either, and does not even Try, ask him about any of it and hes like "i dont get the gender thing but i think lots of people look nice :)" gohan is gay and like vegeta, "debatably a man", goten + chichi are both bi nonbinary, & pan is a lesbian trans woman.

both:

bulla and pan are both into music! i think theyd mess around making their own stuff w/ launchpads

i have a general hc of ki mixing or shielding, essentially, if youre close enough to someone people wont be able to tell apart your ki and you can also 'shield' someone with your ki for a small amount of time. if vegeta has his energy low, his and bulma's energy are the same. same thing with goku and chichi! goten and trunks are near impossible to tell apart, and same thing with gohan and videl.

though goten and trunks are both protective over their younger siblings, gotenks is that protectiveness times a thousand. look at bulla or pan wrong for 2 seconds and you're going to have an angry gotenks in your face asking if you have any last words. i like to think that trunks and goten fused casually a lot, especially around the time where bulla and pan were young, so its basically goten and trunks own attachment to them PLUS gotenks' attachment to them as his own person combined.

i like to pretend end of z did not happen the way it did so uub, using nimbus, travels back and forth a lot. goku isn’t the only one who teaches him how to fight as goten, gohan and trunks all think of him like a little brother and love training with him!

fuck you letters to toriyama/toyotaro hot takes:

cell, as cool of a villian as he is, definitely should have had a creepier final form. or multiple- just something that really drives in the fact that he's made up of other's dna & fuckin ABSORBS people. also his first two forms should have had a different absorbtion method other than the tail thing (not the drinking thing thats fine) it just feels. Weird. not good

it would have been far more interesting to keep the bitter attitude towards vegeta that future trunks had imo... in super trunks was going through a Lot granted but the fact tht he wasnt more confrontational to vegeta being a dick to him seemed kind of off considering his attitude in z i just.. think it would be interesting and far better if they had more of a back and forth 'family but lowkey hate each other' relationship

i dont want to rant about super so heres some super condensed takes, goku black arc specific because thats 90% of what ive seen of super:

mai is a fucking freak ass weirdo, why did they not just make another character to pair with trunks

trunks not flipping the fuck out at his timeline being erased feels... out of character. also trunks deserved the win against zamasu

future bulma did NOT need to die

trunks should have just stayed in the current timeline

please fucking let trunks and goten grow up. we SAW a version of trunks who looked 14 (history of trunks....) and the versions of goten & trunks we have r/n in super do not look 13/14 respectively what in the goddamn hell is going on in the character design department

super definitely should have taken place later down the line

supers version of bulma and videl look awful. why are they That stick like.

vegeta needs to kill frieza. just once.

fu has enough potential to be a very interesting mainline character and i am so sad he's not

i would actively enjoy a sdbh anime with more budget that isnt just a promo anime and has a plot that makes sense... i think db should have more wild spinoffs

xenoverse deserved a better story that went FULL in on the 'what if' type of timelines- like they did in raging blast which is a FUCKING GREAT GAME

straight up lies:

dragon ball z is a good series

#yes db is my hyperfix. that doesnt mean its good <3 but its mine now and i make whatever i want canon #long post #fleetinginterest

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mst3kproject · 5 years ago

Photo

The Star Wars Holiday Special

Happy Holidays, MSTies! Your present is Episodes that Never Were are back! Remember last year, when I said Elves was so bad I wished I’d watched the Star Wars Holiday Special instead? Let’s find out what those words taste like.

The galaxy may be in the midst of a rebellion, but Chewbacca promised his family he will be back for Life Day, and god damn it, he’s gonna get there! He and Han Solo dodge Imperial forces and asteroid fields on the way, but the real danger may be waiting for them at home, as Stormtroopers do a treehouse-to-treehouse search for rebel sympathizers. It won’t be much of a holiday if Chewie arrives home only to be immediately arrested!

That sounds exciting, doesn’t it? It even sounds like it could be made to mean something. There is perhaps a point here about inter-ethnic empathy – Life Day may be a Wookiee holiday, but Chewbacca’s alien friends still know how important it is to him and they’re gonna help him keep his promise. We could also compare it to Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. In that movie, the Martians want to celebrate Christmas but aren’t particularly interested in what it means. They get all their information about it from pirated television and from children who don’t understand anything much more than ‘free stuff’. We didn’t give Christmas to them, they literally stole it by kidnapping Santa. In the Holiday Special, the Wookiees are sharing their cultural traditions with outsiders who have become part of their family – Leia’s speech at the ends notes the humans’ respect for this.

But none of that’s relevant, because this is just a bad 70’s variety hour in a Star Wars costume. We don’t get to see claustrophobic scenes of our brave heroes hiding from the Storm Troopers. We don’t get sweeping space battles or bickering robots or weird new planets… we don’t get anything we go to see Star Wars for. Instead, we mostly watch the Wookiees sitting around their house passing the time as they wait helplessly for Chewbacca to get home. This could have been neat in itself if Wookiees had an interesting culture, but they live in a Mod 70’s Treehouse and seem to spend most of their time watching television. The brief opening sequence, in which Solo and Chewie outrun their pursuers in the Millennium Falcon, is just a tantalizing offer of chocolate on the tip of a giant turd.

The actual point of the show, as far as the people who produced it were concerned, was the various little musical numbers and comedy sequences along the way, some of which are more Star Wars-themed than others. Most of these are presented as one or other of the characters watching them on some form of television, which often doesn’t make any sense. The sequences themselves are usually not very well-presented and a lot of them are just downright boring, so let’s go through them one by one. Top up your eggnog, folks. We may be here a while.

Our first setpiece is a holographic circus featuring jugglers and acrobats, which the adults use to distract Lumpy so he’ll stop bothering them – like parents at the mall letting their kids watch Paw Patrol on a tablet while they shop. When you see televised circus acts, they’re usually filmed up close and at interesting angles, to heighten the sense of danger, and give you a good look at what’s going on. The Star Wars Holiday Special presents it as tiny figures on a table, always shot from far away and looking down, which removes all the drama from the stunts. Lumpy enlarges a figure, but it’s only the ringmaster. The others remain tiny, all while this little Wookiee looms over them like a kaiju that will start stomping if it isn’t entertained.

Then we get Mark Hamill’s cameo (in which he looks weirdly like one of the puppets from Invaders from the Deep), followed by Malla’s attempt to cook Bantha Surprise by following the directions on a tv show. I’m not very interested in cooking shows anyway, but I have a hard time imagining anybody being interested in a fake cooking show featuring fictional ingredients from other planets. What we see on Malla’s screen comes across as a sort of parody, but not actually a funny one. I’m tempted to think Harvey Korman must have been making fun of some particular 70’s cooking show maven but I don’t begin to know who that might be.

The ‘humour’ of the sequence is supposed to come from Malla’s attempt to follow the directions even though the cook on the show has four arms and Malla only two. I could pull some commentary on ableism in cooking and cooking shows out of this, but it would be a stretch, and nobody on the writing end was thinking about it that hard. It’s just stupid, and so is Korman’s plastic wig. Malla eventually turns it off in frustration, long after we’re tired of listening to it.

By the way, if you’re wondering whose stupid idea it was to set the whole thing on Kashyyyk (or, as a guy in the Special calls it, Kazook) and not have any subtitles to the Wookiee’s dialogue? That was apparently 100% George Lucas. The actual script and everything was in the hands of the television producers, but Lucas would not budge on the premise being Wookiee-centric. At least he exorcised that particular demon here, instead of subjecting us to it on the big screen.

Anyway, next Art Carney drops by to deliver some Life Day presents, among which is the source of our next setpiece: a VR machine which reads Itchy’s mind to present a personalized fantasy! This takes the form of Diahann Carroll in a sparkly feather wig, singing a song and saying things like “I am your fantasy, experience me!” The song is okay, I guess, and Carroll has a lovely voice, but what we’re seeing is basically a boring music video. She’s just standing there on a glittery black background, and we can’t forget that she’s singing to a geriatric Wookiee who is doing the Wookiee equivalent of jacking off to this (emphasized by the appearance of literal little swimmers in part of the sequence!). The fact that it’s a personal fantasy plucked from his subconscious makes it feel like this was something we weren’t supposed to be privy to, like we’re looking through somebody else’s computer at his girlfriend’s nudes.

Princess Leia (also looking disturbingly puppet-like… are we sure the actual actors appeared in this, and not look-a-likes in heavy makeup?) and C3P0 get their cameo, and then there’s the single actually effective moment in the Special. This is when we think Han Solo and Chewie are about to arrive home, ending our torment a full hour early, but no, it’s the Storm Troopers! This bit isn’t fantastic, but it does work. Then, sadly, we’re on to the next variety act.

This is a holographic music video which Carney shows to the Imperial troops as a demonstration that the device he has brought Malla for Life Day is harmless. It’s Jefferson Starship moaning out a rock song, in which I can understand at best one word in three. The visuals are in intense soft-focus that’s probably supposed to be artsy. The costumes (what I can see of them) aren’t any more Star-Wars-y than anything else bands wore in the 70’s. And the song sounds like something you’d find in the ‘easy’ setting on Rock Band. Why does Black Helmet sit there and watch the whole thing when he’s supposed to be searching every house on Kashyyyk/Kazook for rebel sympathizers?

The version of the Special currently available on YouTube, which tragically lacks the commercials, has a lot of comments along the lines of this is what you hallucinate after buying Death Sticks from that guy on Coruscant.

To drive the point home, the next thing we see is Lumpy watching a cartoon about Han Solo and Chewbacca crash-landing on an ocean planet while searching for a mystical talisman that makes things invisible (I wish they hadn’t actually shown this object – then I could have made jokes about it being the One Ring). This sequence is generally regarded as the best thing in the Special, and it introduced Boba Fett and provided some characterization for him. It is definitely true that this is the only segment with a plot, and with its weird aliens and grubby outposts it feels a lot more like Star Wars than anything else going on here.

The main thing that keeps me from enjoying this segment is that it just looks weird. The animators use exaggerated squash-and-stretch on the droids, even more so than on the living characters, which makes them look like they’re made out of jell-o. Princess Leia looks like something out of a cheap 60’s manga and Luke like he was drawn by a twelve-year-old based on an action figure that wasn’t actually of Luke Skywalker. Luke has no pupils, which is very distressing, but not as distressing as when C3P0 blinks. Even worse, as far as I can tell Han Solo has no eyes at all.

The design of the alien planet in this sequence is pretty cool, though. It appears to be entirely covered in a kind of goopy ocean and the creatures that live in it are neat-looking, even if not terribly plausible. Animation is really a great medium for fantasy and science fiction, because it levels the playing field: we’re not thinking about the special effects because everything on screen looks equally unreal. This is something Disney, who used it to such beautiful effect in Lilo and Stitch, totally forgot at just about the same time as they acquired the rights to Star Wars. Oh, for what could have been.

I want to note here that the average review on this blog is about as long as what you’ve read so far. We’re only about two thirds of the way through the Special, though, and I can’t really divide a holiday review up into two weeks. Therefore, consider this your permission to take a break and go snag another latke or whatever you’re snacking on, and then we’ll continue.

There’s one fun bit of background social commentary in the animated sequence, too: the only way for humans to survive the virus is to hang them upside-down so their brains will get enough oxygen despite their weakened hearts. In the city there’s an advertisement for the cure – and the upside-down human pictured in the ad is, of course, a woman in her underwear. The image isn’t detailed and it’s not the focus of the shot, so I don’t think it’s an actual piece of gratuitous cheesecake. Apparently somebody at Nelvana Ltd was just salty about the advertising industry.

The self-contained story in the cartoon makes sense within itself. It justifies Fett’s fearsome reputation far better than anything in The Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi, and the characters seem to be in-character even when they’re off-model. The problem is with it as a part of the framing story about the Imperial troops searching Chewbacca’s house! The Special is very explicit that this is not something that’s actually happening in the real world at the same time as the other events – it is a cartoon Lumpy is watching on TV. Why, in a galaxy controlled by the Empire, would there be cartoons using the real names of real rebel operatives and presenting them as the heroes? If nobody’s supposed to know Boba Fett is connected with the Empire, why does the show blow his cover?

More importantly, where can I get one of those awesome giant stuffed Banthas Lumpy has in his room? I don’t know if that’s a real toy that was available in the late 70’s, but Comic Images does make something similar and you can buy them at Wal-Mart or Toys R Us.

While cleaning up the mess the Stormtroopers made of his room, Lumpy watches an instructional video of how to put together some kind of radio. This features Harvey Korman as an android who keeps getting jammed. Like cooking shows, instructional videos aren’t very interesting unless you’re trying to follow the directions – since we can’t follow the directions, this one is pointless to begin with. The ‘joke’ is not funny, and lines like “every one of the ten thousand terminals on your circuit breaker module is a different colour” might be amusing when written down but they just don’t work when somebody says them aloud. Fortunately, it doesn’t last long.

Then we get on to what’s probably the second-best thing in the Special, the bit where we learn that the Mos Eisley cantina is owned by Bea Arthur. It would be easily the most expensive thing in the Special were it not made up of b-roll footage and re-used puppets from Episode IV. It’s also kind of got a plot, in that a guy with a baking soda volcano on top of his head (this is certainly an efficient way to get the alcohol directly to your brain) is trying to confess his love to Bea while she just wants to get on with running her business. Eventually he gets his heart broken and leaves, and then the Empire shuts the bar down, so Bea throws everybody out with a song.

I have to admit, in The Force Awakens when Han Solo mentioned a female friend who ran a ‘watering hole’… there was a moment there when I was half-expecting it to be Bea Arthur’s character. I’m relieved that it wasn’t, but also just the slightest bit disappointed. We had to wait for The Mandalorian to get a proper Holiday Special callback.

This bit almost had a chance to say something with its ‘thwarted romance’ plot. Usually such a thing in a tv show would get what the male character would consider a happy ending. He would prove to his love interest that being cared for is important, she would realize that love is better than money, and they would metaphorically ride off into the sunset. What it looks like we’re going to get here instead is something more like the episode of South Park where Butters fell in love with the Hooters waitress. Harvey Korman’s character (yes, he plays three different characters in this Special and this was apparently supposed to be a selling point) realizes his crush is based on a misunderstanding, and while it makes him sad, he’s not going to be an asshole about it.

Nor is Bea’s character vilified for rejecting him, which she does tactfully but firmly, as if she’s gone through this many times before. He’s just a minor annoyance in her day before she goes on to worry about bigger problems, like getting everybody to obey that Imperial curfew. Then, however, at the last second he pops up from behind the counter after everybody has left – and that’s where the segment ends. I think we’re supposed to assume they got together after all, but I kind of hope she just threw him out with the rest of them. No means no, damn it.

Bea Arthur’s Go Home Song is to the tune the Cantina Band was playing in Episode IV, so it pretty much goes without saying it’s the catchiest piece in the Special.

Then, finally, it’s time to celebrate Life Day! The Wookiees hold up some glowing Christmas balls, then dress in red robes and walk through outer space into a, uh, wormhole, I guess, that takes them to the base of the giant tree from Avatar. There it’s time for our final setpiece, the culmination of this whole ninety-minute ordeal… Princess Leia sings! The Life Day Carol is to the tune of the main Star Wars theme, and the lyrics sound like something from a generic Christmas album you get free if you buy three cards at Hallmark. Carrie Fisher is a decent singer but she looks like she’s as glad this is over as we are.

Much like Howard the Duck, The Star Wars Holiday Special is a production in which they made all the worst decisions they possibly could. Focusing on the Wookiees at home rather than following Han Solo and Chewbacca through the action killed the whole thing at the starting gate. Then that plot is nothing but a frame on which they can hang the various variety acts, and none of those are very good. It’s only towards the end of the sequence that what we’re seeing even has anything to do with Star Wars. Watching it is an ordeal on the order of an un-riffed Coleman Francis film. It’s so bad, it’s not even something people get together and watch like they do Manos or The Room.

So why do we still have it? The Holiday Special was only broadcast once, and was met by fathomless loathing from critics, Star Wars fans, and ordinary people alike. It has never been released in any other format (Andrew Borntreger of badmovies.org has a story about how Lucas had him thrown out of a Q&A panel for asking if it were getting a DVD release), so the fact that you can find it on YouTube today is down to some nameless hero who recorded it on their newfangled VCR back in 1978. That person then showed it to friends, apparently on the basis of oh my god, you guys, this is so bad, you have to see it, and then because misery loves company they copied it to show to their friends. What we have today is copies of copies of copies of copies, like fragments of Sappho only with VHS artefacts instead of holes in the papyrus (and without the artistic vision).

Humans like to preserve remarkable things. Sappho we’ve preserved because it’s remarkably good, but the Star Wars Holiday Special we preserve because it’s remarkably bad. Lucasfilm has tried very hard to stamp it out. George Lucas himself has said that if he could he would gather up every copy that exists and smash them with a sledgehammer… but we won’t let him do it. We keep copying the Special and passing it along, in a way that’s very familiar to MSTies in particular. We’re circulating the tapes! Why this tape in particular?

I don’t claim to know, but my working theory is that it keeps us humble. We are a species that can produce great things when we put our minds to it. We landed on the moon. We eradicated smallpox. We built the Taj Mahal and the Sagrada Familia. We wrote The Romance of the Three Kingdoms and the Einstein Field Equations and the aforementioned works of Sappho. But for all that, we are also capable of throwing the same kind of effort into creating utter disasters – and the Star Wars Holiday Special is the rare example of an unmitigated disaster that didn’t actually hurt anybody. It reminds us to take a step back and look at what we’re doing without getting too invested in it, but does so while being harmless and at times humorous.

Would I still rather watch this than Elves? You bet your shaggy Wookiee ass I would. The Star Wars Holiday Special may be longer, but it doesn’t leave nearly such a bad taste in my mouth.

I will leave you with this: the Special was, as I mentioned, only broadcast once, in 1978 – that means its signal is now forty-one light years from Earth and still going. There are several hundred stars within that bubble, around two dozen of which are known to have planets. Somewhere out there, aliens might be getting their first signal from humanity right now and it’s the Star Wars Holiday Special.

#mst3k #reviews #the star wars holiday special #episodes that never were #holiday reviews #70s

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lokishornns · 6 years ago

Text

Burn and Break [1]

—

masterlist

—

— send requests!!

pairing: loki x reader (fem)

type: series

rating: pg13

word count: 2,101

warnings: cursing? probably, misogyny if u squint

summary: A case, a new precinct, and a new partner apparently is the initiation ceremony into the thirty-three, a precinct in the heart of New York City that is teeming with criminals, cops, and a ginger cat named Goose. You hope to make the best of your new office, but a certain onyx-haired man seems to be doing just the opposite, constantly driving you up the wall instead. You just pray you can make it through this case.

notes: so this is definitely not a request, but it’s a concept i’ve been planning for a while so i pray that this works out

send requests

—

Your fingers tapped nervously against the off-white table, the occasional ridges in the plastic setting off the tempo of your nervous habit. Your eyes glance around quickly, scanning the room and the individuals within it. A podium stands at the front of the room, chairs and tables set in rows, turned to the front. Most officers are standing around in clusters, you among the few that are sitting in the cheap chairs that are usually found stacked against the wall in a random church.

A large, – and quite honestly – gorgeous man moves towards the podium, his eyes scanning over files that he throws on the wooden stand. His eyes lift from their focus on the papers, surveying the space with blue irises until they meet yours. His eyes pause at yours, blond eyebrows raising and a smile on his lips. You return the gesture with a small lift of the lips, watching as he continues to take in the room.

“Officers, take a seat,” his loud voice booms, the noise in the room dying down as figures make their way to the seats. A shift to your left notifies you of a new presence, your eyes being drawn to the new intruder. Your eyes catch onto a man with shoulder-length onyx hair, busying himself with his phone.

“Before we start with our normal announcements, I would like to start off with announcing that we have a new member joining the thirty-three. Please, give a warm welcome to Detective Y/L/N, recently transferred from the twenty-six,” the Captain announces, his eyes turning to yours.

Your face flushes red as eyes turn to you and low applause fills your ears. You send out small smiles, all being returned except for a narrowed stare from the stranger beside you, an unsettling feeling washing over you. Your eyes flick back to the front where the Captain continues with announcements.

“Make sure to greet her after I’m finished. Now, onto important news. Romanoff and Barton, how are things coming with the vigilante case?”

“Great, you know it’s just fantastic when another body shows up after you think you put the perp away,” a man responds, frustration laced in the humor he throws out.

The Captain quirks a brow and a sigh emits from a redhead sitting in the row in front of you.

“You’re going to have to excuse Barton, he had patrol duty for crowds,” Romanoff pipes up, her lips turned up in a smirk as she looks to her side. The Captain shifts through his files, picking one out.

“Barnes and Wilson, any updates on the gang shooting?” A grumble comes from behind you and your head turns back to a pair of men sitting – or laying – behind you. A thumbs-up rises from one and you almost choke when you notice it’s a prosthetic arm. “Buck,” the Captain warns and the one with the prosthetic arm lifts his head, his hair falling back.

“What?” he grumbles.

“Updates.”

“Ugh, Steve, you’re no fun. ‘Captain Rogers’ needs to loosen up,” the one besides ‘Buck’ mumbles through his arms.

“Shell casings don’t match any gangs’ usual signature weapons. We’re going to try matching them with cartels instead, but I’m not sure. They’re almost military grade,” ‘Buck’ says and Captain Rogers nods, a hum of approval vibrating through his lips.

“Stark and Banner, I saw your reports on analyzing and processing; good job. Stark, I believe the nine-nine needs help with some fingerprints; they tried calling earlier.”

“At this rate I should set up my own tech company,” a voice near the front calls out from whom you assume as Stark.

“Odinsons, meet in my office for a briefing. The success on your last assignment shows a new path for the both of you.” A loud sound booms from in front of you that you almost think some sort of explosion has gone off before you realize it came from the enormous blond-haired man in front of you.

The man turns, extending a hand to the stranger that sits beside you as some sort of motion for a high five. The stranger only snorts before rolling his eyes and going back to his phone. You notice that the man looks a little dejected, so you stick your hand out, lightly pressing the palm that engulfs yours. The blond’s eyes meet yours and a smile lights up his face.

“I like this one,” he booms, and a small smile covers your lips, your eyes turning to the stranger beside you, almost jumping when his blue irises meet yours, a harsh stare directed to you. You only look away.

“Thor, you will be the one to show Y/L/N around the precinct,” Captain Rogers announces, and Thor turns around, an ecstatic emotion on his face. “Now, onto social events. The benefit gala is rapidly approaching, thanks to the help of the amazing organization of Pepper Stark. The attire is formal, suits, jumpsuits, and dresses, not any specific gender assigned to any. That’s all for today. Head off on your assignments, Odinsons and Y/L/N in my office after all greetings.” You give a nod to the Captain, immediately overwhelmed with the number of people approaching you.

You feel as if your lips are going to fall off from smiling by the time you slip through the doors of the Captain’s office, met with the pair of brothers and a tired looking Captain.

“Once again, I congratulate the both of you on your success with your recent case. Now, for you, Thor. You will be showing Y/L/N around today, but afterwards, you will be mentoring Parker. You know him, he always comes by and hangs out with the science boys,” Rogers says and Thor nods, a smile on his lips. “Loki, you will be working with Detective Y/L/N on an assignment that I will brief to you both tomorrow. Are-”

“I beg your pardon? With her?” poison drips from his lips, his eyes scanning over you, as if scrutinizing every inch of you. “She barely touched this precinct and I’m to be with her?” If it wasn’t for his harsh words, you would’ve paid more attention to his smooth voice and foreign accent.

Your head cocked at the rude words, not used to such standoffish figures. Some people you knew were tough, but they weren’t this jerkish at first glance.

“Loki,” the Captain said with the same warning tone that he used on ‘Buck’ earlier.

“Seriously, can I get a break? First, I’m paired up with an idiot of a brother and now I’m paired with a girl? This precinct is a joke,” Loki grumbled, slouching in the chair he was sitting in. Your eyes narrow in on the man.

“This girl is a Detective. The same rank as you. She also isn’t deaf and can very well detect when a man is letting his ego get the best of him,” you bite in a sickly-sweet voice, a smile on your lips that doesn’t reach your eyes as you look into his dark pupils. Something flashes in them that you decipher as interest and danger as his brows narrow even further.

A clearing of a throat takes your interest off the man.

“The work that you do on this assignment will determine your further placements at the precinct. Do not take this as a joke,” the Captain orders, his underlying threat directed towards Loki. You watch as Loki takes in the order, his eyes meeting yours once again. You avert your gaze quickly to Thor as the unsettling washes over you once again, your skin rippling.

The large man soon bounds out of the office, his actions closely resembling a golden retriever that has no awareness of his size. His voice booms loudly and you wonder if he has any capability to whisper. He bounds from room to room, introducing you to different departments before explaining how procedures are carried through.

“The Captain seems like a tough man, but I once saw as he cried because he lost a Mario Kart game,” Thor says with his Australian accent and a snort leaves your nose as you cackle with laughter. The unusual sound prompts Thor to laugh and soon you’re a pair of adults crying with laughter in a hallway.

“Tell me about the team. I don’t know much,” you finally say after calming yourself.

“I just told you about Rogers. Romanoff is the redhead; very dangerous and probably the best martial arts officer. I once saw her suffocate a man with her thighs. Barton is the one that always looks like he’s had too little sleep and he’s usually Romanoff’s partner. He has the best shot on the team and everyone’s a little confused on how, but he’s what you would call a natural,” Thor says, and you nod, your ears soaking in every detail of information.

“Sam and Bucky, the men behind you this morning, are a pair of imbeciles that always somehow end up succeeding. Bucky lost his arm when a fridge fell on top of it, and he likes to pull this cool trick where he takes his arm off to disarm his opponents and then he hits them with it. Really cool. Sam’s just sassy and has Big Dick Energy,” Thor’s words come out a little stiff because of his accent, but he still smiles at you.

“Tony and Bruce are the science bros; they really just analyze everything. They’re both crazy smart but they didn’t feel like actually doing anything, so they just took the police academy as a joke and ended up here. Then there are the twins, they’re not in today since they’re at a stakeout. Pietro was a track-star, so he’s insanely fast. Wanda is sweet but it’s weird – she always seems to know what you’re thinking.

“And then there’s the most important of all: me and Loki. We are brothers although Loki is adopted. I handle more of the fist stuff and he handles more of the talking and smart stuff. So, Detective, what are you doing in our precinct?” Thor asks, his lips still pulled into a large grin. Your head swims with all the new information and you almost feel dizzy.

“Got a promotion from Sex Crimes to Detective and they said there was an opening at the thirty-three. Guess I ended up here,” you shrugged, looking around.

“Well, do not worry. We are fun. Maybe except Loki, but he likes you,” Thor slaps a hand on your shoulder and you almost wince at the amount of force he has in his hands.

“Likes me? I think you’re far off buddy,” you snort.

“He likes you, trust me. Just,” Thor pauses, “make sure he stays alive. He’s my family.” Thor’s voice is sincere and there’s a hidden tone of pain.

You push your files into your bag, pressing the button on the desktop to turn it off. Most had already headed home, and you were exhausted from your first day. You sweep over your new desk, making sure everything is clean and spotless except for the small pair of sunglasses, a piece of memorabilia from your last precinct. You smiled at the memory.

A brush against your shin pulls a jump and a small yelp out of you, your chair bumping against the wall from the sudden movement. You peer down, an orange figure prancing around your legs.

“Brr,” the cat lets out the small sound, pulling a smile from your lips. You bend down, your fingers brushing over the fur at the top of the cat’s head, humming in satisfaction as the cat pushes back up against your hand. Your eyes catch the small tag that hangs around its neck, reading the name ‘Goose’.

“Where are you from?” you murmur, your fingers scratching at the small part between Goose’s back and tail.

“Goose!” a familiar voice calls from a room, tongue clicks soon following the call. Goose’s ears perk up before the cat trots off towards the sound, the collar jingling quietly.

You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder quickly. You step out into the hallway, prepared to leave before a large chest covers your exit. You clear your throat after noticing Loki was standing in your way. Loki rolls his eyes, attempting to step past you before you somehow decidedly step in the same way. A nervous laugh bubbles past your lips, looking down to find Goose trotting around the both of you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally slipping past your soon-to-be partner. You don’t expect any words in return as you push out of the doors of the precinct.

—

taglist: @quenilla @darkprincessloki92 @jessiejunebug

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 5 years ago

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Bishop’s Angel

Part One

Reader and the turtles

Pain, that was the first thing that invaded your senses, brisling bright and sharp. Before your vision returned or even movement in your limbs, a blinding pain that felt like a million knives imbedded deep in the back of your skull screamed for the relief in the form of a swift death. Your mouth was dry as the Sahara and you felt like you needed to vomit and the throbbing behind your eyes was not helping in the slightest. This wasn’t going to be a good day, you could tell already. Next you willed your eyes to open and they thankfully obliged, but you promptly regretted the decision when a white searing light assaulted your vision. How long had you been out for light to be this excruciating? You needed to rub away the ache but found your limbs unwilling to comply or more accurate, couldn’t.

“Fuck.” You mumbled taking another pull hoping your arms and legs were just entangled in your sheets after a restless night of sleep. Nope, no such luck, no movement yet again. Slowly this time, you opened your eyes allowing the light to slowly penetrate easing the light to dilate your pupils gradually. Your vision still slightly blurry your surroundings came into view. White, lots and lots of white and machines and metal instruments. Like a heavy weight, dread filling your stomach, you were not fully aware of your surroundings yet, but you knew a lab when you saw one.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you tried to remember how you got in this position, the last thing you remembered was getting onto your ship and getting into hyper sleep for the long arduous journey to the outer rim of the Milky way for your next assignment. Then another hot stabbing pain rolled through your skull making you groan at the unpleasant sensation. And something inside snapped and a flood of images came rushing back making the urge to purge the contents of your stomach intensify.

Memories came surging back, and you suddenly remembered what had happened. Midflight a stray meteor hit your ship damaging the navigation system and thrusters. That set off a domino effect of errors which woke you from your slumber. By the time you got back to the bridge you were already too close to the planet and had been caught in its gravitational pull. There was nothing you could do but try to ease the landing and prepare for impact. Thankfully your heat shields protected you from the rough entry into the primitive planet’s atmosphere, but the landing had been jostling. Somehow you managed not to break any bones or your other precious appendages, but you were cut pretty bad from flying debris.

Earth is where you had landed unfortunately. The planet itself was pleasant, with fresh water, lush green foliage and a wide variety of amazing animals. But its higher life forms were less then pleasant. Humans were cruel and stupid, taking all that they had for granted. They were ruining their magnificent planet at an alarming rate and if they kept destroying it at their current pace they would kill it in less than 100 years. They were foolish and selfish, killing each other over stupid reasons like religion and who they were allowed loved. Wars and bloodshed was this planets calling card which is why they were kept out of the Intergalactic Peace Corp and why no intelligent life visited.

After you had freed yourself from your harness and put out the fires on deck one and two you needed to open the bay doors to remove the smoke that clogged the ventilation systems but when the ramp lowered you found yourself no longer alone. Your ship was surrounded by a swarm of humans dressed in black with their guns drawn pointed at you.

When they first caught glimpse of you their eyes widened in shock and each took a step back. Easily startled little pricks scared of anything different than them, fucking humans. Granted in most ways you looked like them, you had supple tan flesh, and being a female, you had the same reproductive organs as theirs with two breasts and a cunt. You had two legs, two arms with ten toes and fingers with nails and cuticles. You were just a little taller than their average height with a long light brown hair. Even your eyes were the same, but the violet of your eyes were not represented on this planet which only added to your exotic look. But the two appendages protruding from your back were the most shocking features about you and you pumped the two large white wings behind you just to give the humans a show.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in hindsight because the next thing you knew you were pumped full of some sort of tranquilizer and now were strapped down to a metal table in an unknown location with your wings pinned painfully under you.

This was your third visit to the planet, granted this one wasn’t planned but a visit non the less and it reiterated why this was by far your least favorite planet in this system. Such a jumpy species, fucking humans.

Back in the present you concentrated at the task at hand, you quickly assessed your current situation, your arms and legs were restrained with simple leather straps which will be easily broken with just your strength alone. The sound of a door opening halted your escape attempt and you observed as a man dressed in a black suit and tie with a pair of sunglasses over his eyes strolled up next to you. His index finger drug lazily up your leg to your midsection pressing down ever so slightly testing your skins resilience.

Thankfully they had left you clothed, or someone was about to die. The smirk on his face indicated he thought he had you trapped at his mercy, but little did this smug asshole know leather straps wouldn’t keep you bound to this table for much longer. You just needed to bide your time waiting for the right moment.

After a few moments the man spoke lifting the dark glasses up to the top of his head to reveal his icy grey iris’, “And I thought today was going to be uneventful. I love getting new toys to play with.” His voice was scratchy and dull, lacking any kind of compassion and filled with contempt which gave you a bit of apprehension. Just one sentence from the man and you knew already he wasn’t one to be trifled with.

His hands lifted to your cheek stroking the warm skin almost lovingly, but you knew even the small touch had a purpose. He was studying you with just his fingers gauging your reactions, waiting to see what you would do. Next his fingers traced the edges of your soft wings gathering a feather between his fingers examining the texture.

“Interesting.” He cooed sharply yanking the white feather from its root with a brutal tug.

Not prepared for such an abrasive act and sharp sting you let out a shriek of pain when the quill left the sinew of your wing. “Fuck! You indignant asshole! That hurt!”

“You speak English, how fascinating. You look like us besides the gorgeous wings and you speak our tongue. You, my dear, are not only stunning for an alien but also just as vexing. What are you doing on earth?”

Refusing to answer the man’s questions you returned with your own, “Where is my ship?”

“Nah ahh ahh don’t be rude, I ask the questions here. You came into our atmosphere unidentified and uninvited making a colossal mess for me to clean up. The least you could do is answer a few questions.” If the tone if his voice was any sweeter, sugar would have been dripping from his lips. He leaned down bringing his nose close to your neck taking a long pull of your scent. “You smell unique as well, like nutmeg or some other sweet spice. I think you’ll be my new favorite. I wonder what your insides look like.”

“Is this how you treat guests on this planet? Capture and threaten them with dissection?”

Suddenly the door to your room burst open and a frantic man wearing a long white lab coat came rushing to your host’s side. Taking a few moments to catch his breath the subordinate finally calmed down enough to address the man no doubt in charge.

“Bishop, those mutants are coming too, the big one nearly broke free!”

The calm and collected facade slipped from the man they called Bishop and his fists clenched in tight angry fists. “Then drug them again! Do you have any idea how long I planned and waited to capture those god damn turtles?! Almost two years you fucking moron and 5 million of the government’s money, I cannot lose them. They are too important to my work for them to disappear again! Contain the beasts!”

The cowering man nodded quickly and slinked away to take care of his problem leaving you and Bishop alone yet again. He straightened his tie and coughed regaining his lost restraint. His cold eyes found yours again and he smiled ever so sweetly caressing your cheek once again.

“You my dear will have to wait, I have four prior engagements I need to attend too. We shall continue this play date a little later. I look forward to learning every inch of you inside and out…..Rachel!”

Again the door swung open and a woman with long red hair and a white lab coat appeared fully engrossed with the man addressing her. “Yes Agent Bishop?”

“Rachel please give this wonderful new specimen of mine a delicious cocktail to let her rest until I have time to attend to her. I have a shell to peel from one of those turtles backs. But first dinner!” And with that Bishop slipped from the room heading towards his meal.

The woman ignored you and turned to the table to her left and started to fiddle with something.

“Please.” You tried to plead with the woman. “Please help me.”

Slowly the woman turned around holding a syringe up pressing the stopper to expel the excess air from the needle. She looked down and shook her head allowing the red curls of her hair to shake around her shoulders. “I’m sorry dearie but Mr. Bishop always gets what he wants and you’re the first alien he’s gotten his hands on. You’re not going anywhere.”

You figured her answer would be ‘no’ so you were poised and ready, your muscles flexing under the taught band of leather. “On the contrary Rachel, I’m not an alien. Only this primitive planet uses that word.” A pop and a gasp from your nurse the leather gave way freeing your hands and feet from their constraints. Your hand shot out dislodging the syringe from her hands and you quickly grabbed it plunging the needle deep in her neck pressing the cocktail into her system.

Her eyes widened in pain still processing your lightening fast movements. She tried to scream reaching out to steady her failing legs but crumbled to the floor in a huddled mess at your feet.

“Rest well Rachel.” Getting to your feet you surveyed the room and fortunately found all your blades at the far back corner of the room. “Idiots.” Shoving them back into their sheaths you headed for the door pressing your ear to the cold surface listening for any sign of life on the other side. You waited patiently for two sets of footsteps to pass and fade into the distance before you pushed open the door peering out into the equally blinding white corridor. Did they hear of colors?

Slipping out silently you made your way cautiously as you could down the hallways being aware or your surroundings moving forward to find some sort of exit. Then voices came from behind and you entered into the next unlocked room praying it was empty and closed the door just as four guards entered into the hallway. You had to wait for them to pass by but back luck was apparently in abundance today so they stopped almost at the door you hide behind to stop and chat. You were stuck, at least for the moment.

The room you had entered was dark and machines hummed quietly in the back. Hopefully dark meant uninhabited but metal shifting behind you told you otherwise. Your hand gripped the hilt of your blade at your side and slowly turned around ready to defend yourself. Your eyes were already starting to adjust to the darkness and you could see four large tables containing four large masses. With no one standing before you to try and capture you again your fingers sought the light switch and drenched the room in white light.

There before you lay four large humanoid turtles strapped to the same metal tables you had just occupied. The difference was they were restrained with thick metal cuffs secured to the solid heavy tables that were bolted to the ground. They weren’t going anywhere, not without assistance. Where these the four mutants turtles Bishop was talking about deshelling? How were these four massive creatures on this planet? They were not human that was for sure.

You saw all four had masks on, each a different color. One was huge, bulky like a raging bull adorned with red. That had to be the ‘big one’ the sniveling man told Bishop had almost escaped. You could see why they were terrified, he was impressive. Next to him was the smallest of the four but still equally muscled with orange around his skull, then a tall lanky one, not as bulky as the rest of them but still well defined, he had purple. Then at the end was one just a bit smaller then the large red brute, his scalp wrapped in blue. They were blindfolded and gagged as well shifting weakly on the tables. Bishop had said they were hard to capture, maybe you could help each other. You just hoped they weren’t hostile.

Silent as the night, you made your way to the blue turtle, your fingers hovering over his blindfold still making up your mind if you wanted to help them. His head turned to you somehow knowing you were there. They were awake and he tried to talk through the offending rubber gag. You watched his nostrils flare struggling to take in air. Damn your bleeding heart.

Reaching down you ripped the blindfold free along with the gag. His eyes were a mystifying blue swirling with confusion and resolve but when they met yours they blew wide. His mouth worked his jaw loose and his tongue darted out to moisten his dry lips but stilled as his eyes followed up your wings span bobbing gently behind you.

“Holy Shell.”

@blossom-skies

#tmnt #tmnt fandom #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fic #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #Bishop's Angel #part one

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nnegan13 · 5 years ago

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anon with basorexia and mamihlapinatapei, here is the mamihlapinatapei drabble lmao its 2k words drabble whom? for you! ao3 here and it will also be under the cut!

put it in the 3.01 canon divergence AU bc I felt it fit better in that universe than in canon, I hope you don’t mind and I hope you all realize that I apparently have no control over what I will and won’t come back to lmao

anywho

WEDNESDAY

17 APRIL 20:14 VERANDA, SAVA’S APARTMENT 20:14, Silvia to Le Matte [screenshot] Edoardo’s this weekend? 20:14, Federica to Le Matte 🤠 20:14, Eva to Le Matte 🥂🥂 20:14, Sana to Le Matte 💯 👅 20:15, Eva to Le Matte Wait Isn’t he still gonna be in the hospital 20:15, Silvia to Le Matte Chicco said he would be fine by Saturday I’ll ask tho 20:16, Eleonora to Le Matte Sure 20:24, message to Edoardo Incanti 20:24, message from Edoardo Incanti Yes Are you coming? 20:24, message to Edoardo Incanti Unfortunately But if you’re trying to kill yourself, I don’t want to be there as an accomplice 20:24, message from Edoardo Incanti I’m not trying to kill myself 20:25, message to Edoardo Incanti Throwing a rager right after you were in a fight so bad you wound up in the hospital? Sure, not trying to kill yourself at all 20:25, message from Edoardo Incanti Are you worried or something? 20:25, message to Edoardo Incanti No 20:25, message from Edoardo Incanti Bullshit Today goes down in the history books as the day Eleonora Sava admits she’s worried about me 20:25, message to Edoardo Incanti Fuck off 20:25, message from Edoardo Incanti It’s gonna be chill this weekend, I promise Swear on my life If it’s not, you can send me straight back to the hospital 20:25, message to Edoardo Incanti Having a hard time believing you 20:26, message from Edoardo Incanti Just say you’ll come?

She’s never known Edoardo Incanti to shy away from a party, so when Silvia texts in the group chat that they’re invited to Edoardo’s this weekend, Eleonora’s not even a little surprised.

Ele?

For a moment, Eleonora stares at her screen and considers the question. Does she want to go? Does she want to find herself in Edoardo’s house for a countless time over, does she want to watch him stumble around drunk with his friends egging him into stupid decision after stupid decision, does she want to sit there worrying over him and then worrying over whether or not Silvia will catch her worrying? Does she want to sink into the cushions of his couch until everyone has disappeared and pull him on top of her—push him over, rather—and do all sorts of things to him that are most definitely not allowed given that he was beat to a pulp and should be resting instead of doing something like throwing a party?

Honestly, yes, and Eleonora wishes she isn’t such a masochist.

When are we going?

Ignoring her phone as it starts buzzing again, she shifts her eyes back to the screen of her laptop, her next radio episode laid out in its little boxes, planned to the last second, and taps her fingertips on top of her keyboard, trying to get words to come out of her brain. Nothing comes for several long minutes, she types ffffff a hundred times over, probably, in the box where she should be writing about the next clothing drive, and slumps back in her chair. The apartment is quiet, Filippo gone with Dario somewhere depraved, she’s sure, and there’s nothing to distract her from the idea of Edoardo and his party.

She pulls her phone off the table and swipes away from Le Matte into the rest of her messages, annoyed that somehow she let her thread with Edoardo become her fourth most recent message string rather than the last, and sends the text without thinking.

Are you really throwing a party this weekend?

Eleonora stares, hard, at her phone until the two little checkmarks show up, and beats down the anticipation in her stomach.

You can find out then

Today goes down in the history books as the day Eleonora Sava admits she’s worried about me. It’s more true than she wants to admit, levels upon levels of more true than Edoardo must think, but she’s got the promise of I’m interested in you, and once we’re done, we’re done, and him doing almost anything and everything she’s ever asked of him, so there’s more than enough half-admittances of feelings to stew between the two of them.

Swiping out of her messages and into her photos, Eleonora pulls up the ones from Fiumincino last Wednesday when Edoardo showed up at her building, Thai food, cookies, and car in hand, and drove her out to the beach after she told him her assignments were pushing her to the brink. They drank sanpellegrinos and chai he made himself and ate sweet yellow curry until she thought she was going to burst, and it was warm enough that this time, when they sat on the dock watching the sun set, that she pulled off her boots and rolled up her jeans and swung her feet over the edge to trace through the water.

She looks at the pictures of him, face bruise free for the first time since March, grinning out at the water and hair wild, some pictures with his coat pulled up to his chin and other’s where he’s stripped to just his white t-shirt, turned into the wind and laughing. It’s an afternoon she keeps tucked away in her heart, one that she hasn’t told anyone about, not Eva, not Filippo and most definitely not Silvia, no matter how well their talk went over.

So, he’s not a good guy because he’s using me to get to someone else? Yes.

And that someone else is you? Yes.

Did it work?

Eleonora sets aside her phone and pulls her laptop back in front of her.

—

SATURDAY 20 APRIL 21:41 BACK PORCH, EDOARDO’S HOUSE

True to his word, the party is the most mellow event she thinks she’s ever seen Edoardo at. No DJ, just a low rumble of R&B in the background, some people are dancing but it’s mostly couples grinding and making out in the middle of the living room, no large collection of hard liquor, just several tubs full of ice and beer bottles—unless Edoardo points out where the fancy stuff for mixing and cocktails is, like he has to Eva—and most people are just chilling, talking, playing quiet but joyful games of pool and sprawling on the sofas inside and out. And, for once, his house doesn’t feel like it’s overflowing with bodies.

The exclusive invite actually seems exclusive, tonight.

Eva leaves Eleonora on the porch to sneak back inside to the liquor cabinet and make herself something that will leave her liver wrecked, and Eleonora can’t find it in herself to follow after her, make sure she really doesn’t hurt herself. She leans into the cushion of the sofa Eva abandoned her on, pulling out her phone to text Sana or Silvia or Federica to keep an eye out when Edoardo makes his way out of the house and onto the porch.

She spots him, a shy smile blooming on his bruised face as he starts meandering across the porch to where she sits, and she represses the urge to look around, make sure no one will see them together. Silvia knows they’re friendly—what a terrible, magnificent concept, being friends with Edoardo Incanti—and friends can talk to one another, right?

He drops onto the cushion next to her, leaving barely any room between them, and gives her a smile as he turns to the side, bending his knee and tucking his foot under his other leg. “Believe me now?”

She’s leaning sideways into the couch, one arm propped up on the back cushion and her face leaned into her fist. Of its own volition, her hand drifts from its position of holding up her head to play with the curls on the back of his. She winds her fingers through them without thinking, the backyard and the porch are all but empty now that the sun’s gone down, and seeing his face as bad as it is—those Giocchi Square guys do not fuck around—makes her chest smart. It’s just them, she can give herself this little tiny thing, playing with his hair, to help her feel better. He smiles a little wider as she tugs on one, tilting her head to the side and studying him. “Maybe.”

“What? Still think this thing will go sideways?”

“Anything’s possible,” she says, shrugging, catching the way he winces as he bites his split lip, the consequences of his hubris—fake or real, she still isn’t quite sure—effective his habits. Her eyes are drawn to his mouth, split in the corner but the rest of his lips still pink and smooth. The hand in his hair drifts again, this time tracing one finger down his face, passing lightly over the bruise on his jaw, the one below the corner of his mouth, the split in his lip, and his eyes dart over her face.

Once her finger brushes over to his cheek, the purpling skin around his eye, the butterfly bandage above his eyebrow, he speaks, his voice is a low rumble that slips into her body, down her spine, and pools in her stomach. “Anything?”

They’re not talking about the party, anymore. Her lips part as she thinks, finger nail drawing a half circle over and over to the side of his eye, and she watches his expression shift. Want—want stays ever present—but behind it is uncertainty, confusion, hurt, pleasure, resignation, all overshadowed and hidden, almost, by the black and blue and purple splotches on his skin,. Somehow the evidence of his beating brings them to the forefront even as it acts as a mask.

Eleonora brushes her thumb over the split in his lip again, and then lets it move farther until she’s felt the entire, soft surface of his mouth against her skin. His mouth he uses to eat and kiss and speak and compliment her and argue with her and tease her and say, in not so many words, that he’s a little in love with her.

Her heart breaks because she’s a little in love with him back.

It’s highlighted in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate, how they flick, sometimes, down to her mouth like he’s thinking about kissing her, but always, always focused hers when she’s talking to him, telling him something important, and now, in the soft light of his porch, the black melts into the dark brown of his irises until she can see her reflection in his eyes.

Can he see his in hers?

With her thumb resting on his mouth, her fingers gentle against his face, Edoardo shifts toward her until his knee presses into her leg, his hand slips over her knee, the corners of his eyes squint with the echo of a smile, and his lip quivers under her touch like it wants to follow suit. He leans—

Mind flooding with the little, tiny, hopeful smile Silvia gave her when she said she wasn’t going to do anything with Edoardo, Eleonora’s blood cools. “We shouldn’t.”

Even so, she doesn’t pull her hand from his face, but lets it slip down to curl around the corner of his jaw, barely around the back of his neck, so her thumb rests against his pulse point. He swallows and she can feel the muscles in his throat move underneath his skin.

“Why?” He murmurs, watching her carefully, his thumb ghosting over her tight-clad knee, large palm warm against her skin even through her clothes, and her mind has returned from whatever place it went to that allowed her to let him this close.

She drops her hand to his chest and pushes just enough that he leans back, lips pressing together and eyes shuttering into a blank mask. There’s a difference, now, between the shades of his pupils and his irises, and she thinks it’s because he found something in her eyes that’s the opposite of what she’s doing, now.

Wondering if he’ll ever tire of her pushing him away, accepting her own emotions but putting the feelings of others above them, Eleonora shifts and stands. After a moment, she turns to him, face drawn in resignation and disappointment. He holds her gaze for only a second before turning his head to the side. “You know.”

He whispers, “Okay,” and lets her stalk back into the house.

#skam italia #incantava #incantava fic #eleonora sava #edoardo incanti #my stuff #this was fun to write! these prompts are all so good!!

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lailannajacobs · 6 years ago

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Just Dumb Luck pt. 10

A/N: Starting this off with a little message to say that this part is VERY different from the rest of the series and that I also had a lot of trouble keeping it gender neutral. I’m very nervous to hear what you think, and I promise the next part fits right in with the rest of it but I thought I needed to put this in for the story to work properly and ugh, I don’t know, I hope you like it. Feedback is always greatly appreciated! p.s sorry for the lack of smut, I’m horrible at writing it and didn’t want to subject you to that pain!

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Implied smut

Summary: Things take an unexpected turn.

The boom of thunder tearing across the sky jolted him awake, his heart pounding in his chest. He forced himself to stay still. Loki now knew what Earth’s regular thunder sounded like, and this wasn’t it. This was something - someone - else. Someone he was all too familiar with.

Within the first week of arriving on Earth he had been unfortunate enough to bare witness to a late night thunderstorm. It had sent his heart racing and he had been sure that Thor had found him, ready to drag him back to Asgard. Every deafening blast had felt like a reminder of betrayal and a promise of imprisonment at the same time. It had taken half an hour for the thunderstorm to subside, the rest of a sleepless night to convince himself that he remained hidden here on Earth and three other thunderstorms to be able to distinguish them.

Loki sat up, about to leap out of the bed but paused, not wanting to wake (y/n). The thought of everything that had happened since that kiss, that real kiss downstairs, calmed him, if only a little. He had been wanting to kiss, really kiss (y/n), all evening. For the past couple weeks really. He still had trouble believing that they had wanted the same thing. It wasn’t something he was used to. He reminded himself that (y/n) was real. This wasn’t a trick.

It hadn’t taken long for his gentle kiss to turn into something deeper, hungrier, but he had slowed down, remembering his earlier promise to let (y/n) set the pace. He was shocked that he had been able to remember that promise seeing as the only thing he could think of was how good it felt to have (y/n) so close, lips on lips.

(y/n) had pulled away, pupil dilated, and asked him to come upstairs to the apartment. He had agreed with what he had hoped had been a lazy, and not a desperately eager, grin. They had barely made it into the elevator before he had pinned (y/n) against the wall, his lips traveling from their mouth down to their neck. (y/n)’s hands had weaved their way through his hair and had tugged when he had gently nipped their bottom lip. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from smiling through their kiss at (y/n)’s reaction. When the elevator had sounded he had pulled away as if nothing had ever happened. After all, they were now playing a different sort of game.

The walk from the elevator down the hall had felt like an eternity. But he had been waiting this long. He could master his patience once more. When they had made it into the apartment after enough key fumbling to wake the building, (y/n) had lifted onto their toes, a hand snaking its way along his chest. He had let out a sigh of relief, which had a devilish smirk spreading across (y/n)’s lips. It had sent his heart racing. (Y/n) had stopped inches away from his lips, moving as if to kiss him but never actually touching. They had then suggested watching a movie and Loki had felt a tug at the corner of his mouth, expecting no less from a worthy opponent. (y/n)’s eyes had lit up in a way he found himself hoping they would every time they saw each other.

So they had played. Barely touching throughout the first half of the movie. Only accidental brushes against the thigh or arm, followed by insincere apologies. They hadn’t seen the end of the movie. Loki had no idea what it was about anyways. He had caved first. But from the look in (y/n)’s eyes, it was clear they were done playing.

Another crack of thunder, closer this time, shook Loki from the memory. He eased himself out of bed and brought the blankets higher over (y/n)’s exposed shoulder. A flash of their bodies pressed together, skin on skin, raced through his mind and he resisted the urge to curl under the blankets in search of (y/n)’s warmth. He couldn’t let (y/n) be touched by this part of his past. He put on his discarded clothes strewn across the floor and left the room. He wouldn’t do this here. He considered leaving a note but decided against it. His mind had immediately leapt to the dramatic and he didn’t need to put (y/n) through the emotional turmoil that came with the If I Die Tonight note.

As Loki made his way up the stairs, heading toward the roof, he couldn’t help but think how strange it had been that (y/n) had picked him out of the crowd that first day. He had been wandering around aimlessly, curious to see if anyone would notice a god in their midst - a game that had started to become quite dull after it became apart that these people were oblivious - when (y/n)’s eyes had settled on him. He had felt that stare and just like that, it was like (y/n) had known. And when they had presented him with that initial game, Loki had been immediately drawn in. He knew this new game would be so much more interesting.

He pushed his way out onto the roof, forcing against the blustering wind. There was no rain. Just a flash in the sky followed by a deafening crack. Loki looked around, his hair whipping around his face, until his eyes found his brother. It was too dark to see anything other than his massive silhouette but Loki would recognize Thor anywhere, with or without the thunder. Neither of them said a word as the storm subsided. He tried to quash the old, familiar feelings of pain, jealousy, fury and begrudging love. If he could feel nothing at all, everything would have been easier.

“I thought you were dead.” In the newfound silence, Thor’s voice rang through the air.

Loki pasted on a heartless grin, “I was merely missing.”

His brother emerged from the shadows, armour glinting off of the city lights, face filled with a mixture of pity and disdain. “I mourned you brother. We all did.”

“You can’t fool me brother. Everything Odin has ever done is performance. I doubt he would start showing any real emotion concerning me, even if he did believe me to be dead.” He scoffed.

“You know that isn’t true.”

Loki simply cocked his head and raised a brow. The wordless challenge spoke volumes.

Thor sighed, running a hand through his mess of blond hair. Interestingly enough, his hammer was nowhere in sight. “If you refuse to believe me about father then believe me when I say that mother is distraught.”

The words clanged through Loki’s chest, squeezing the breath from him. He had never wanted to hurt her. If he could have told her the truth her would have. But Loki was well aware that you could only properly fake your own death if everyone thought you were dead. And everyone included his mother, especially that she remained loyal to Odin. As much as he loved her, he couldn’t trust her to keep his secret.

Loki forced his features into arrogant boredom. He refused to let Thor know how much his words had affected him. “I don’t intend on leaving with you brother.”

Thor stepped closer, “You stay here, why? So you can be a god among humans? These are good and innocent people. They have no need for your madness Loki! They do not deserve it.”

“You couldn’t leave me alone, could you.” He growled. “Did you hunt me down to win daddy dearest’s favour even further?”

“I came here to bring you home.” Thor’s voice cracked on the last word.

“I belong there no more than I belong here.”

“You have family on Asgard; a family that love you. What do you have here?” He demanded.

“Nothing. Everything.”

Loki didn’t know what had given it away but Thor’s eyes widened. Neither of them said anything. He refused to speak first in fear of giving something away that his brother had not yet assumed. Neither broke eye contact, their staring contest so similar to something they would have done as children.

Thor appeared to be chewing on the words until he let out a sigh. “Don’t think you can use my…connection to earth against me Loki.”

Loki took in the uncertainty etched on Thor’s face. Harsh words without much bite.

“I tend to enjoy spending time with the humans dear brother.” he drawled, hoping to mask his irritation. “I think I would much rather spend my time on earth than in a cell thank you.”

“I don’t remember you being particularly fond of the mortals. Why would you rather stay here rather than among our people?” His took a step forward as if to grab his arm.

Loki snapped, unable to leash his anger. “Because they don’t look at me like I’m the monster people tell their children about at night.”

Thor shook his head. “You know that’s not true.”

Loki only stared, not trusting himself to say anything.

“Did you tell them who you really are brother?”

The question hit Loki, fuelling the anger even further. Of course, he hadn’t told (y/n) who he was. He hadn’t wanted to end their little game and he knew as soon as the truth came out, their game would be over. It was why he hadn’t told (y/n) anything that first night when he had had the chance. He had considered it, but decided he wanted to keep playing. There was never any fear in (y/n)’s eyes, only challenge and curiosity, and Loki had made a selfish decision not to say anything. He had never directly lied to (y/n) but he knew them well enough to know that it wouldn’t matter. It never had to anyone else.

“No.” He ground out. “They know nothing.”

“Brother come home.”

Thor reached again to put a hand on his arm but this time went right through the image of Loki.

Loki cocked his head, “Did you really think it would be that easy to bring me back? I’m so glad you never seem to learn brother. Give me on good reason why I should leave with you. Use your brains instead of your brawn to win this one. I’m curious to see what comes of it.s”

“I won’t leave here unless you do. I will not leave you.” Thor promised.

The weight of the promise settled on Loki, causing him to realize that, with his brother here, he was just as trapped here as he was on Asgard. Thor wouldn’t leave his side, trying day and night to bring him back. Panic coursed through him but he wouldn’t let it affect his decisions. He could be free. He could get out of this. He always did. Loki took in a deep, calming breath and a solution dawned on him. He didn’t like it - hated it even - but it was his only way out. He refused to be miserable and trapped. He needed to be free.

“Fine. Two minutes and I will leave with you.”

“No tricks Loki.”

He shook his head, “no tricks.”

His form shimmered away and he was wholly back in his own body, staring at the wall in (y/n)’s bedroom. He let out a long sigh and turned his head to look at their sleeping body. Once more, he thought of leaving a note but didn’t. He wouldn’t say goodbye either. He knew it made him a coward but he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he pressed a kiss to their forehead and walked out of the room.

He was almost out the door when he heard (y/n)’s voice. “So that’s it then? You’re just walking out now?”

Loki took in another deep breath, put on the mask he knew could fool everyone, and turned around.

Part 11

Tag List:

@lokislilcaribbeanprincess @lokixme @casualminiaturetimemachine @bbcsassdeadass @tony-sassmaster-stark @crescent-night @wrappedinlokisarms @thatkidofwarandpeace @ihavenofilter @jessiejunebug @perceptorxbrainstorm @harrymewmew @artsymeadow @laufxysn @save-myself @bilesxbilinskixlahey @grey-stardancer @thathedonistgirl @fyeahlitaajpunk

#Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #MCU

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sweetlangdon · 6 years ago

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Reckoning: Part Two (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Notes: AU of the Outpost plot of Apocalypse. A Gray accidentally finds Michael while he’s performing the ritual. Things take an interesting turn.

Warnings: Blood. So much blood. There’s blood in every part of this fic so far. Swearing. Murder. Graphic violence/gore. Blood kink. Knife play. Things get heated, but there’s no smut…yet? (There might be in the future, if I’m feeling particularly brave.)

This fic is currently in progress.

Also available on AO3.

[Repost of a previously published fic from my main blog.]

Part One

He laughed at her. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound, lilting and genuine, from the way his eyes sparkled in the dim golden light. And it was tinged with just enough smugness that she wanted to reach out and dig her nails straight into his throat. Instead, she applied pressure into his wounds until the warmth of fresh blood coated her fingers again. The scent of it was nauseating and inescapable—she didn’t know how the hell she’d be able to explain the red on her clothes if someone found her in a corridor, didn’t know how long it would take for the scent of iron to leave her nose. If it ever would.

That is, if Langdon intended on letting her go alive.

The chances were pretty fucking unlikely now.

Langdon sucked in a breath. She watched the unsteady catch in his chest, the blood still bright and glistening on his pale skin. His eyes closed, his head dropping back into the wall with his chin held upward, long eyelashes fluttering as she dragged a low moan from his throat. It was hard to tell if it had been provoked by pleasure or pain, but part of her wanted to assume both. Another part of her hoped it was all pain—the agony of her fingernails tearing their way through flesh and muscle, his veins purging themselves of every drop of blood.

She didn’t know why she wanted this so badly. But she couldn’t stop; it was like a dam had finally collapsed somewhere inside of her, and he was watching the tidal wave, praying for it to drown her.

“I knew there was something fucked up about you,” she said. It’s always the well-dressed ones. Attractive but deadly. She was distantly aware of the snakes still winding around the antechamber. Their ambient hiss, the wet, sloshing noise they made while they continued to streak crimson across the floor made her skin crawl.

So, what kind of fucked up are you? Satan worshipper. Manipulative bastard. Serial killer?

…Where the shit had those snakes come from?

“About me?” Langdon still had his eyes closed. A crooked, teasing grin made one corner of his lips upturn. His tone was light, almost soft, and smooth like whiskey warming her chest from the inside out. He sounded almost incredulous, but she knew that it had to be for his own dark enjoyment. It was apparent to her now that he was that kind of fucked up. “I believe you’re the one wrist-deep in my blood, so eager to spill it.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if the tables were turned,” she countered between gritted teeth. “You wanted to kill me five minutes ago.”

Langdon opened his eyes. “It was a suggestion, a possible outcome.” He narrowed his gaze, downcast to where she had fallen slightly away from him. “You’re still breathing, and…from where I stand, it’s you who has the advantage.”

She cast him a sidelong glance. Her thumbs slipped from inside the cuts along his arms, her fingers slick, coated in scarlet as they grasped his biceps. He didn’t even flinch, his cold gaze unrelenting. “But I’m not the one in control.”

“Aren’t you?” he drawled.

He was so fucking infuriating—answering her questions with more questions, playing some twisted game she’d unwittingly been drawn into. Langdon straightened his chin and stared at her expectantly, his pupils wide, the candle flames dancing in the endless black. Like he was piercing her very soul, like he could read every single thought and feeling in the clusterfuck of her mind.

She hated that. She hated him, for toying with her, making her so damn desperate and weak that she’d actually fucking kissed him. Langdon had given in, too, but now she doubted the sincerity of his touch, his mouth on hers.

Probably not. She didn’t think there was anything sincere about this man, except for the obvious gleeful, calculating, mind fuckery.

The knife was still there on the floor behind her in a pool of blood, in that snake-infested pentagram…

“You want me to feel like I am,” she guessed. “Because you know that I could do whatever the hell I wanted and you wouldn’t be in any real danger.”

Langdon’s mouth opened a little, head tilting to one side. A few disheveled strands of hair had become plastered to the blood along his collarbones and the hollow of his neck, but the rest fell across his shoulders. His beauty was maddening to her, too. He was pretty as fuck—sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could’ve inspired paintings and sculptures in another life, smooth, glowing skin and those impossibly blue eyes.

If only she hadn’t seen the black seeping out of the whites of his eyes, shining like obsidian. If only he wasn’t covered in his own blood. She would’ve mistaken him for an angel.

“And what would you want to do?” Langdon dipped his head closer to her, his nose skirting her hair. His fingers flexed from where they were trapped against the wall on either side of him, and although her grip on his arms wasn’t anywhere near vice-like, he didn’t make any sort of effort to break from it.

Her mouth was dry; she swept her tongue across her bottom lip. “What?” The answer came out as a hoarse, annoyed grunt, far less composed than she wanted to be.

“Eighteen months is a long time to hold onto all of that anger.” Langdon’s breath fanned across the side of her neck, his words so close that she couldn’t stop that tremor that jolted through her body. “You have so much of it, don’t you? Can’t decide if you’re better off on the outside than you are in here, wasting away. In here, you’re nothing. They look right through you as if you don’t even exist.”

“Fuck if I care,” she snapped, fingers tightening around smooth muscle. His skin was hot to the touch; an ethereal sort of heat that seemed to curl around him. “I don’t want anything to do with those rich assholes.”

“Really?” He held her prisoner in his gaze again, and a shadow clouded that piercing blue. “It’s slowly destroying you inside, just how deeply you care. Your show of apathy is the only reason you’re still alive.”

Her knuckles blanched as she pushed him into the wall, hoping he didn’t see the tremble of her lower lip yet knowing that it wouldn’t slip past him unnoticed. “Bastard.” She clenched her teeth until her jaw ached, her pulse beating a hysterical rhythm. Langdon was staring down at her again, like her soul had been put under a magnifying glass.

“How many times have you thought about killing them, if you could?”

Her brow creased. “I don’t know.” She dismissed his question with a shake of her head. “Everyone has those fucked up thoughts sometimes, especially down here, cut off from whatever’s left of civilization. It’s not like I’d actually do it.”

“Why?” Langdon’s grin was radiant, something sinister dancing around the edges. “Whatever sense of decency you’ve brought with you from old world didn’t stop you from finally unleashing your anger on me.”

“And yet you’re still breathing.”

He hummed—she couldn’t tell if it was approval, or amusement, or something else. Ice blue eyes flickered to her lips for just a second, considering. She fucking hated the way her body reacted, heat blossoming over her face, betraying the anger she felt. Before she could even think about acting on some foolish impulse again, he averted his deliberate, tempting gaze to somewhere over her shoulder.

“Pick up the knife.”

“No.”

Langdon raised his chin, and she saw that the bloody smudges he’d left there with his fingertips had started to darken. “You’ve been thinking about it since you walked in here,” he said. “Take it.”

She thought about running. She should have—her common sense had flown out the door some time ago, apparently. Now she was trapped in his web and that same fucked up part of her that still found him frustratingly attractive was curious to see where exactly this game was going. She wasn’t naïve enough to think Langdon would let her kill him, but if she wanted to make him suffer, if she gave into those intrusive thoughts, how far would he let her go?

She studied him for a long moment, then released his arms. Langdon stayed pressed to the wall, a faint smirk on his lips, then dropped his arms to his sides with an almost supernatural grace. He watched her, head cocked to one side, as she stepped into the circle of melting candles. She held her breath; she didn’t know why, but it reminded her of that silly superstition they’d had as kids while passing by a cemetery.

The blood was slippery beneath her shoes. Black shapes slithered around her feet, one long, slender tail making an attempt to capture her ankle. She bit back a noise of disgust and shook her foot until the snake veered off in another direction. Lowering into a crouch, her eyes swept over the pentagram—half mesmerized, half revolted. Her fingers curled around the hilt of the oddly shaped knife at the same she heard Langdon’s soft footfalls approach.

He left a fresh trail of bloody footprints and joined her in the circle. She rose slowly from the floor, inhaling a ragged breath. The air was metallic and warm, smelling of fire and blood and candle wax. Sweat beaded down her temples. She felt like she couldn’t breathe; she pulled her attention away from him to the knife in her hand. Candlelight glinted off the blade, and for a moment she stared at the reflection of her own eyes, wondering how the fuck she’d gotten here.

Langdon was still studying her. Waiting. An inquisitive grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he eyed the knife in her possession. She turned to face him until they were chest to chest. The heat of his body leached into her own, a new wave of desire that she couldn’t quite escape coiling deep in her belly. He reached out to cup her cheek, his long, lithe fingers curved around her jaw, his palm pressed to her neck.

She knew he could feel her pulse racing under his hand. Fuck, I hate you.

His grin widened, slowly, as if he’d been reading her thoughts. She didn’t like that, the way he seemed to know everything. Now she was sure she didn’t want to know who he was, but she could make a few guesses that he had some disturbing connections. Those ethereal vibes were as dark as they were alluring.

She gripped the knife tighter so her hand wouldn’t shake. She didn’t look at him while she flattened the blade against his skin, but she felt his heavy gaze on her. The cool metal traced his hipbone up to his abdomen, clearing a path through the drying blood. She felt the rise and fall of his torso grazing her knuckles, his breath far too calm and controlled.

She pressed the tip of the blade to the skin above his navel. His thumb dragged along her lower lip, waiting, maybe wondering if she would, in fact, make him bleed. She wanted to—fuck, she wanted it so badly, to make him whimper, suffer a little. Make him as weak as he’d made her feel.

The blade sunk into Langdon’s skin. Crimson beaded in its wake, spilling in tiny rivulets down his stomach like rain. She’d never cut into flesh with a knife before, but the morbid fascination was still in there somewhere, surprised at how easy it’d been. She heard Langdon’s sharp inhale and saw the shadow of his ribs. His stomach muscles tightened; she pressed her fingertips to his side, the drying blood on her own hands tugging at her skin.

She moved the blade up, just below his ribs, and cut a parallel line. The knife drove a little deeper this time, iron blossoming into the air, Langdon’s low groan rising to meet it. She thought it should have been illegal, that noise he made; she elected to ignore whatever feelings it stirred within her.

She expected him to flinch, to wrap his long fingers around her hand and flip the knife so it disappeared into her gut. It would be so easy, so quick.

Fucking painful. Goddamn it, why hadn’t she run?

Langdon was breathing heavier now, his free hand clenched into a fist at his side. His quiet, panting gasp swept over the crown of her head and she shivered, her veins alight with the power he’d given her. His other hand burrowed into her hair, though the warmth of his fingers across his cheek seemed branded into her flesh.

Langdon threaded his nimble fingers through her dark hair, fingertips massaging her scalp in maddening circles. He pulled just a touch too hard—she couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped her throat in time; it ricocheted off the walls of the antechamber.

She watched his head tip upward, hair spun like gold tumbling down the back of his shoulders. His eyes closed, his expression unreadable and his breath slowing. He’d left his neck exposed, vulnerable—on fucking purpose, she was sure. Giving her a choice. At this point, she didn’t know if she wanted to set the knife or her lips to his skin. The blood had turned dark over the tender hollow of his throat, almost black as the candles burned low around their feet and the light grew dimmer.

Her lips hovered over his collarbone, her free hand sliding up to the cut below his ribs. She dug her thumb in, fresh blood running over her knuckle, oozing under her nail. The room was so suffused with iron that she’d become immune to it. Langdon’s breath caught; she felt the stutter against her chest.

She chose the knife.

The tip of the blade settled on his neck. She saw it—the single, fluid motion it would take, like a bow sweeping across violin strings. Her hand shook.

The high ceiling welcomed the sound of his wry laughter. “Is that what you want?” His voice was low, dangerous, dripping with sin. “To kill me?”

She held her breath. Her eyes closed the same moment a single droplet of blood bubbled up from under the edge of the blade. The air seemed to shift in a single second, too quick to fathom.

She opened her eyes to a dark, vacant room. The candles had all blown out—she stood there, turning around in a frantic circle, her hands empty, the antechamber scrubbed entirely clean as if it hadn’t been a mess of blood and candle wax and snakes just a moment before. The knife was gone, and a cold draft of air replaced the ethereal heat of Langdon’s presence. An eerie whisper prickled at her ears, words she couldn’t decipher hanging around her like an apparition.

She was still covered in Langdon’s blood.

@lastregasolitaria @mylippo @zeciex @lvngdvns @langdonsdemon @yourkingcodyfern @sojournmichael @gabnelson98 @rainbowrosesjas @antichristlangdxn @keavysmithxoxo @artistlunadrayne @codysfallenangels @batgirlbride @mileeyyowens @dead-witch-boy @boofy1998 @gentianea @cryptid-coalition @langdonsrapture @kinlovecody @yuriohoe04 @electricurie @marvel-rpdr-and-ahs @gallxntdean @langdonscurls @jcshadowkiss-blog @frozenhuntress67 @sebastianshoe @dixmond-taurus @bookobssesed99 @sassylangdon @queenie435 @holylangdon @weareallevilmotherfuckers @langdonfern @angsty-otters-blog @denaexr @mr-langdonn @micheallangdons @lostin-fern @crazedcatcuddler @satansapostle @monsucre @ritualmichael @fernshorrorstory @queencocoakimmie @bluelancesredswords @theharvestgirloffire @punkysouls @sevenwondr @prettykitten123 @zoebensvn @kylosbabe @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon x fem!reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #ahs fic #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse imagine #ahs apocalypse fanfiction #fic: reckoning

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mininky · 6 years ago

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Tainted Souls (Taehyung)

Summary: Vampires were no longer a myth, the world knew that they were very very real. The world wasn’t ready for it, and they really weren’t ready to find out that all those whacky conspiracy theorists finally got something right. A lot of celebrities were, in fact, undead. Including BTS. Touring constantly, always on the move it was painfully difficult to ensure that they received their meals. Until their manager learned of a business that specialized in vampire fine dining.

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: Oral sex (female/male receiving), biting, multiple orgasms, swallowing of bodily fluids, no condoms (don’t do that!)

Word count: 6.3K

Series list: Prologue, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook

"What book are you reading?" You look behind you on the plane to see Taehyung standing up at an awkward angle so he can peer over your shoulder. "Dracula." You move your sights back to the book in front of you, trying not to smile at the laughter ringing out above you. "Dracula, really? So, does that make you my Mina?" "If I was your Mina then I would have gathered a group of men who would have become so completely infatuated with my kind, sincere, and oh-so-innocent character that they would murder you for me. Well, technically for her fiance, but let's be honest they all did it for Mina." You try to go back to reading but close the book when you realize your eyes have been dancing over the same page for the last few minutes. You put your bookmark in and look up again to see Tae giving you a boxy grin. "Yeah, well I suppose in a sense you are Mina. You could definitely have a bunch of dudes do your bidding." "Is that so?" "Yup." You watch Tae whip his head back around and can barely hear Namjoon saying something about 'sit down' over the hum of the engine. Tae, however, stays up anyways. It can't be comfortable, he's having to stand at an obscure angle/crouch in order to avoid banging his head on the overhead. "But I appreciate that you aren't trying to kill the vampire and you aren't really Mina. Besides, cute and innocent gets boring really fast, doesn't it (y/n)?" You watch Jin's hand clasp around Taehyung's collar and jerk him back into the seat before you can even respond. So instead you have to settle on pulling up your KKT (and paying the outrageous WIFI fee) so you can have the last word. "Why kill the vampire when it's so much more fun to fuck them?" You wait a few moments, praying that Tae also paid for in-flight WIFI before you hear him sputter and cough behind you. Checkmate. You and Tae have been playing a game of cat and mouse from the moment you met. It's hard not to be drawn to him. He's charismatic, handsome, sweet, and he has this air of unflappable confidence that comes close but never fully crosses the line into arrogance. And you...well you've found your new favorite past time but you never thought about the implications it would bring about later in time. You and Tae flirt back and forth with each other constantly, but you've never crossed the line. Come close, dipped a toe over, sure...but you refuse to be the first one to break. Oh no, Tae will be the one to break. He's not like the normal fuck boy type, you'll give him that. In fact, he's not even really a fuck boy, he just has the tendencies. He's got this really sweet, sensitive, kind side to him. He's also very intuitive, the type of person to know exactly what you need or want before you ever say it. But he's also the type that's unapologetically himself and it's naturally an easy attractant for women. He could have any pick of the litter, and he knows it. He walks like he knows it, talks like he knows it, but he never actually comes out and says it. And the thought of conquering him, of being the one that he begs for. The one that gets the cocky side of him to bow down before your feet. Oh yes, you'll break him. Unlike Tae, who flirts shamelessly possibly just for the fun of it, you do it for more perverse and personal reasons. You're attracted to him. More than you'd care to admit too. You want him, you want all of him. You're not sure where in the game that started happening, but you know it's far earlier on than you care to admit to yourself. But he doesn't need to know that. Not until he's worshiping you, and then you'll bare your heart and soul. But he needs to break first. You want to wash off that cocky grin from his face, you want to see him vulnerable and bare to you. And as much as you'd like to pretend it was just a game of conquering the man who can conquer all it was now much more than that. So you've been pushing harder than ever, trying to get him to cross the finish line. You think he probably understands what you're doing. And it seems to you that he's drawing it out to see if you'll break first instead. You've had to slow back down in retaliation. Well, that and the fact that you had been so caught up in the thrill of the chase that you've had witnesses. Technically just one witness actually, just on a few occasions. Unfortunately, poor Jungkook has been caught in the crossfires of your little 'chases' a few times now. So now you have to be a little bit more careful. Poor Jungkook. The last time he walked in on the two of you had been the worst. He'd found Taehyung feeding from your thigh when he came over to see if Taehyung wanted to play a video game of some sort with him. As if it wasn't bad enough of a position with your dress hiked up and your expensive black lace and chiffon underwear on full display it of course just had to happen right when he finally started looking you in your eyes after he accidentally saw the racy photo you'd sent Tae a few weeks prior. It wasn't that bad, but you're pretty sure that he's maybe seen boobs in real life a handful of times and that didn't help anything. He's a shy, innocent thing under all that bravado he puts on stage. Jungkook still refuses to talk around you, he just turns into an awkward statue and runs away which has caused his blood type endless entertainment recently. She's been using you just to chase away Jungkook, and it's only made you tread more lightly in your game with Taehyung. Your thoughts are brought back to the present when you hear your phone buzz. You glance over at Jungkook's blood type on your right and Jin's blood type on your left to see both of them sound asleep before pulling up the text. It wasn't a dick pic per say. It alluded to it, but the angle cut off right after the thatch of well-groomed pubic hair. Interesting, so he doesn't shave completely. Somehow, you kind of anticipated him to be an all or nothing kind of guy. Not that you're complaining. The real question is how to respond? You take a moment to ponder your options before a text pops up.

[Tae-Tae] Speechless? [you] No, I'm just debating if you shave and trim or just trim. What a cocky little shit. You'll break him one day, you swear it. [Tae-Tae] Care to find out? [you] Hmm... [Tae-Tae] I'll show you if you ask me. ;) [you] Nah, I think my own imagination is probably better. [Tae-Tae] :( It's not tho [you] Whatever you say, babe. [Tae-Tae] babe? I get nicknames now? What can I call you? How about baby doll? [you] Gross, veto. [Tae-Tae] Princess? [you]...I can work with that one, but it's not my favorite. [Tae-Tae] My queen? [you] Much better. I accept from you my humble servant.

You try to stifle your laughter as Taehyung suddenly appears down the aisle. He shoots you another boxy grin and leans over for a moment to whisper in your ear. "See, I told you. You can get guys to do their bidding. All you have to ask and your wish is my command. My queen." You look at him for a moment before staring back straight ahead. "I'd rather hear you beg." You watch his pupils dilate for a moment when you spare a short glance back his way, his head cocked to the side before he finally moves back over to his seat when a stewardess starts walking by.

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

A few days later and you're finally back in the comfort of your own home. In a strange way, you aren't actually that happy with it. Being out and exploring and...being with Tae...well it's fun. But meanwhile back at the ranch you just go through tedious monotonous tasks of daily life. Not that it's that bad, it's really nice to be able to catch up on all your favorite shows and finish a book in your favorite spot on the couch. It's just...well it's boring. You've been going and traveling nonstop for the last couple of months, and sure it could be stressful. Especially trying to get through an airport while not being caught with BTS and the constant reminder of 'no scandals, we hired you to be discrete' from the ever so lovely management. (Honestly, with some of the stunts you've seen the other girls pull you're surprised that there hasn't been a scandal yet. It's not that they aren't discrete, it's more that...well there's zero tolerance for bullshit from some of the other girls when fans get out of hand.) But with all its rules the job is still worth it. You got to explore museums and sites and food all over the world. Your bank account is certainly not a concern any time soon. But more importantly...with Tae. And when you're back at home...well you're just a regular old girl again. When you're with Tae it's like everything is an adventure, his optimistic boyish charm is infectious. When it's back to just you in your apartment though it's like everything is slightly muted. Your thoughts wander back to Taehyung for a moment. The tour had ended with things getting...slightly awkward between the two of you. You're pretty sure that both of you are getting tired of this little game, but both of you are too stubborn to try for something more. Each conversation with him lately has kept you on edge, both of you seem to be daring the other person to just say it first. You know you're in deep shit, you don't just like him...you love him. And that puts you in an odd spot. This is after all your job. And he is after all famous and under a microscope constantly. And then there's his personality. It's almost like there are two sides to him. The flirty grand charismatic face he shows the world and then the much more serious, sometimes stoic side he'll occasionally give you a glimpse of. But what's real with him? You can't help but wonder if he actually likes you, or if he more just enjoys teasing you. And this dilemma really isn't his fault, it's yours. You started this. You were the one challenging him, instead of just coming forward and being honest. But being honest is scary. Rejection is a serious possibility, and you're not sure if you'll ever be able to recover from it. I mean, sure you will, but...man it won't be easy. And let's say he does reject you, do you have to go back to your old routine at Tainted Souls all over again? You're in the middle of a deep True Blood binge under the confines of the pillow fort you've made when a knock at the door interrupts your thoughts and has you pausing the show. You have no clue who it could possibly be. Your friends rarely show up unannounced and all of them have day jobs so considering that it's only 1:00 in the afternoon it couldn't possibly be them. And you didn't order any food, you actually forced yourself to cook for once just a little while ago. You peak your head out the pillow fort and squint at the door (not that it's helpful in any way but you're hoping you can somehow will the person away if you do this long enough.) Another round of knocks, louder this time, ring through the apartment before the doorbell is rung no less than five times in under thirty seconds. You grunt as you crawl out of the fort before marching over to the door. Swinging it open you're ready to give an earful at your intruder before seeing that damn boxy grin. "Tae?" "Hiya, my queen. I was just bored and in the area and-" "How do you know where I live?" Taehyung stops for a moment and you see a mischevious glint in his eye. "I have my ways. Are you going to invite me in?" "What is this, some old-timey vamp shit? Yes, please, I invite you in oh undead one." Tae chuckles as he steps in, his shoulders brushing against yours momentarily before he steps aside to take off his shoes. "You aren't off the hook that easy though. How did you find out where I live?" "It's on your resume, duh." You watch him survey your small apartment before his eyes light. "Is that a pillow fort???" He skips with glee over to the area, a childlike innocence and enthusiasm taking over as he crawls down and shuffles into the area. "What are we watching?" "We're not watching anything. I was watching..." You stop yourself short. How do you explain to a vampire that you're basically watching a vampire porn show that got a disturbing amount of things about vampires right? I mean, the Dracula thing was already a bit embarrassing enough but hey, it's a classic! "What, cat got your tongue? Come on, come join me in the fort, my queen!" You glance over to see him patting at the side next to him before finally giving in with a reluctant sigh. You didn't exactly make enough space for two people though, so you're squeezed rather tightly next to his side. "So...were you watching porn?" "...no..." No that would almost be less embarrassing, unfortunately. "That...that wasn't the answer I was expecting. Oh...oh my god. You WERE weren't you?" You're struck with horror as he moves to press play. Why god? Why you? Why didn't you destroy all the evidence before opening the door? Why didn't you hide the remote? Why couldn't you have been watching anything else other than- The sounds of moaning fills the room. Of fucking course, this just had to be the worst possible scene for it to start on. And of course you just haaaad to watch the whole series over from the beginning and this is the part where they find the tape of the girl who died after sleeping with a vampire who chains her up has very rough sex with her and then drains her. "Holy shit, this is...this is really kinky. It feels like I'm watching some of Hobi-hyung's stash, but worse. Wow. It's always the ones you least expect I guess." His eyes are glued to the screen as it finally cuts back to the police. "No!!!! No, no no no no no no no!!!" You're smacking Tae repeatedly on his arm, hoping that you're somehow making your illiterate rant get across to him. "No, it's a TV show. It's called True Blood! It's about vampires and okay it's honestly trashy and kind of awful but I mean, they got so much right. A lot of it wrong, but so much right too! Like synthetic blood, and vampires coming out of the coffin! And and and..." You stop at the sound of Taehyung laughing maniacally at your outburst. "Oh fuck off Tae. Even if I was watching porn I'm allowed to do so! Who died and made you my dad? Also, what ARE you even doing here? Don't think I bought that 'I was in the area' bullshit! You're not getting off that easy mister!" "Mister, really?" Tae sighs before cuddling closer into your side, his face pressing into your shoulder. "I just missed you, if you really must know." "Oh." What does that admission mean? Does it mean...no he couldn't possibly be throwing in the towel. "Oh?" You glance down to see Tae looking up at you through his messy fringe. You hadn't really paid attention when he first came in, but he looks paler, tired. "OH, you're hungry." He rolls his eyes before he cuddles even closer and throws a leg over you. You pray that your heart will stop thundering soon because you know for a fact he can hear it. "Not really. I still have two more days before I need to eat. I told you, I just missed you. Is that such a crime?" "You look hungry. Tae, you don't need to lie. If you just came because you need to eat that's fine, I'm sure you've been working harder now that you're back and-" "I told you that's not why I'm here!" His face snaps up, and you're suddenly reminded by his inhuman speed that he is indeed a creature not to take lightly as he's straddling you. His eyes bore into yours, flickers of annoyance tracing over his features. "Why don't you believe me?" "What?" "Why, why do you do all these games? You fuck with me, and you play these games, and god I can't get you out of my fucking head. Your taste, your smell, your laugh fuck it's like they're just running through my mind all god damn day. And then you have the audacity to act surprised? How could I not miss you? Is this all it is to you, just some game? Because I swear to fucking god if it is I'm-" "It's not just a game. I mean, it kind of started that way but..." You trail off, your eyes refusing to look up at him for longer than a few seconds. Tae relaxes at your admission, but his gaze never wavers. He's clearly waiting for you to continue, but you're too stubborn. After a minute of the two of you daring the other to speak first, he finally gives a small chuckle before throwing his face into your neck. "God, you just really want to make me say it first, don't you?" "Yes." Your words come out tiny and small, and you suddenly feel incomprehensibly stupid for just not being honest with him sooner. "Why?" "Because you're you. You could get anything, anyone. And...I don't know at first it was just to get someone as great of a catch as you to look at me and I was kind of bored with having just one client. But then...it just morphed into something more. The more time I spent with you the more I wanted you to really like me. Like really really like me, not just want me...you know? But...I guess...I'm also just really afraid of rejection. A game of cat and mouse keeps things easy and light-hearted, feelings don't really have to be involved." "I fell for you so long ago it's ridiculous. I just figured it was all just fun and games for you so I didn't admit anything. We're both idiots aren't we?" You find yourself grinning up at his words. "Yeah but...we can be idiots together." "I like the sound of that, a lot." For a minute silence just fills the room, although it's not uncomfortable. It's more the two of you basking in the realization that there are no more games. Both of you are finally being honest with one another. And then after that warm and fuzzy glow starts to ebb away do you realize the rather compromising position you're in. He's still straddled over your hips, his hair falling down and eye's just barely peeking out, his hands resting on the side of your head and face just a few inches away. You're not sure what to do in this situation. Do you ask him to move? Do you kiss him? Do you touch him? What would be the most proper? Because really all you want is to feel his lips, but you're not sure if that's what he wants. You're pretty sure he can see each thought playing out based off of the way he cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow. You've never been very good at concealing your inner thoughts. (Note to self, work on your poker face.) So you steel your nerves and finally say in a voice you hope doesn't give away your anxiety, "Tae?" When he hums in response you finally lift your eyes to him. "Tae, can I kiss you?" His smile stirs something in you, a frenzy of joy and something slightly more carnal caused by his fangs shining down at you. "Of course, my queen." He doesn't however budge. Clearly, he's going to make you work for it, and your stubborn side is starting to roll back in. You weave your hands into his hair (you'd like to note that it's oddly soft for all the chemical damage it's taken and you really should find out what shampoo he uses) to bring his lips down onto yours. The force of the movement causes a rather awkward clash of teeth, but neither of you seems to pay any mind. There's been too much build up, too much tension, to really care about little details like that. His lips are slightly chapped and he tastes faintly like mint. It's not long before the kiss deepens into something less chaste, tongues roaming and exploring and hunger starts to drive both of you. Your hands untangle from his hair and move to his arms before snaking around his waist to flip him over. There's something so euphoric about seeing him under you, at seeing the shift as his eyes start to shine red and the way his breathing starts to stagger under your touch. And it hits you, really hits you then, that he's yours. Maybe the world gets a lot of him, but right now you get a side of him that they don't. Your lips trail down his neck as your hands slide up his shirt to feel the cool skin underneath. The way his muscles clench under your touch coupled with his soft panting has desire pooling into your underwear. "You look so pretty like this." You grin as you peel his shirt off before leaving a wet trail of kisses down his torso. "Pretty, really? Wouldn't handsome be a more apt description?" His hands are wound into your hair, pushing you slightly further down as you get steadily closer to the waistband of his sweats. "Well, you are plenty handsome. But...I think you look pretty right now. Delectably pretty. Like a perfect meal presented to me." You linger at his pants, hands resting on the button before your attention flickers back to his face. "May I?" "Please. But I mean, really? If anyone is the meal here it's you." "The big bad vampire routine is unbecoming of you. Be a good boy though and you might just get a treat." The glare he levels at you has a giggle of elation bubbling up in your throat. "Really, still with the games?" "Do you want me to suck your dick or not Tae?" His head whips up as you slide down his pants and boxers, freeing his rapidly hardening cock only a mere few inches from your face. You'd like to note that he does, in fact, shave and groom. Guess the question is finally answered now that you're finally seeing the perfectly shaped triangle of hair in person. "Fuck, no I do." "Then just lie back down and be a good boy." He groans as he throws his head back, biting on his lip to stay quiet. You've always wanted to be the one to get under his skin, to make him fall apart, and now that you're finally here it's better than you ever imagined. You take a moment to just enjoy the site of him laying under you, twitching with barely controlled impatience. Your fingers ghost over his dick, lips coming down to pepper small kisses up along his thigh before halting right at his balls. His hips flex and shake the closer you get, precum beading up and falling onto his stomach. "Jesus, please (Y/N), please just fucking touch me. This is just torture, cruel and unusual punishment. I'll do whatever you want just please, please just touch me." "Whatever I want?" A cheshire cat grin is on your lips as you look at him. You get that technically you guys already agreed to be together, but hey you've been thinking for a long time about just what you would do when he finally breaks. And right now you're finally about to get what you've always wanted. "Fuck, yes, just please fucking touch me." "Hmm, okay, since you begged so nicely." You finally grasp his dick in your hand, tongue snaking along his balls before trailing up and enveloping his velvety head. The tangy precum smears over your lips as you lock eye contact with him, your smile growing wider at the long musical moan that falls out of him. Oh-ho, if Tae is already moaning he might just not be able to handle what you have prepared for him. You give him just a moment to calm down as you keep him resting in your mouth before finally sliding down to the base in one go. "Oh, holy fuck. Fuck, fuck, oh god. You weren't fucking kidding when you said you were a pro at sucking dick, oh my god." You stay stationed at the base for a moment before working up, setting an easy rhythm for yourself to breath in as you go up and exhale slowly as he reaches past your molars. The dull ache in your jaw is worth it for the sweet sounds he's gracing you with. You can feel your panties clinging onto you, your own need beginning to cause a different dull ache. But that's not important, what's important right now is staying in charge. You aren't about to pass up this opportunity that you've worked so hard to finally get. "(Y/N), if you don't stop I'm going to ah fuck!" Your hands massage his balls gently before his hips buck with force into your throat and his cum is filling your mouth in hot white ropes. His eyes are locked on yours as you finally pull away from him, giving small licks to clean up anything left behind before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. "All clean, my what a good girl you are." You can't help but preen a bit under the praise. There's something about hearing the words from Tae that make the (honestly almost unbearable) taste worth it. "But it's not fair, I'm almost completely undressed, and you're still in all of your clothes." His words come out whiney as he tries to grab the hem of your shirt, but you're quicker than him. You scooch your way out of the pillow fort, ignoring his whines of protests. "Come on Tae, you promised that you'd do whatever it is that I ask." You glance behind you to see Taehyung behind you, a deviant smirk plastered to his face as he tugs his pants back up. "Well, my queen, I'm hoping that your wish is for me to eat you out like a five-course meal." "No, but nice try. No no, I'd like something far less sexual, sorry to burst your bubble." You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers curling into the soft hair at his nape. "I'd like for you to take me shopping." "What?" "Shopping, I want to go shopping with you. More specifically I'd like to go out on a date with you. I think it would be fun to pick out some clothes with you. Oh, but I suppose I should tack on that I'd like to go to the new exhibit at the museum with you too if you have the time this month. It's not a permanent collection so I suppose that might have to take priority if you can manage the time." "You...you could have me do anything and you choose a date? I thought for sure you'd have me sit there and beg for you or something, or literally kiss your ass, or make me do something really embarrassing. But you...choose a date?" His shoulders are shaking with poorly contained laughter before he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. "Just when I think I've got you all figured out you pull something like this. You're a weird one, you know that?" "Well at first I thought about making you beg, in fact, that was my original goal. But the plan changed a long time ago. I realized I didn't want to make you beg, I would never want to hear something like that forced out of you. I want to hear that you want me because you want me, not for any other reason. So then I started thinking about what I really wanted, and I realized that even though it's selfish and even though you can't technically go out on dates or be seen in public with me I'd still really like to go out on a date with you. I understand though if it's not really possible." You say the last words quietly as you reflect back on your contract and the firm words from management. Dating and scandals were absolutely not allowed, and while you wanted nothing more to be with Tae you also understood the precarious place dating would put him in. "Hey, don't worry about it. We can definitely go on a date. I can wear like a fake beard or something." "What?" "Ooh, or maybe I'll learn how to do some special effects makeup and turn myself into an old man. With a big beard." Tae is talking animatedly, his hands smoothing down his imaginary beard. "No fake beard, please." "Why not, I thought girls like beards." "Yes well I don't. Especially not fake ones. That's just weird. But I'm sure we'll figure something...less...abstract out." You watch his gaze flicker back down to you, his fingers tracing over your jaw before dipping lower until they finally grip at the soft flesh of your ass. "Well, I suppose that we can figure it out some other time. I don't have enough time for a date tonight, I still have to be back for practice in a couple of hours. But that does leave me with enough time to continue where we left off. What do you say?" His breath is warm on your neck and the fire that had begun to calm down is roaring back. That familiar ache, the need to finally be one with him begins driving all action again. You try leading him to the bedroom, but his hands pull your hips back flush to him. "Always so impatient. Let me take my time with you." His tongue trails slowly down your neck, over the prominent vein before he nips down slightly on your collarbone. Each movement is slow, precise, and it already has you wanting more. You're not normally so greedy, you usually enjoy dragging things out more. But Taehyung is masterful at this slow, erotic torture and it's quickly becoming too much for you. Each touch to your skin tingles and burns, his hands lazily roaming and groping has your hips rutting into his. "Tae, don't be a fucking tease." "Oh please, you've spent enough time torturing me let me have some fun." His eyes lock onto yours before he finally strips your shirt off of you before his mouth latches onto a nipple. His tongue swirls around the bud before he's tugging it in between his teeth with enough force to have you cry out. His mouth twitches into a grin at your moan and suddenly he's off of your breast and picking you up. He doesn't, however, take you down the hall into your bedroom as you initially guessed. No, instead he's leading you into the kitchen and placing you on the counter. He just gives a small chuckle at your cocked eyebrow before explaining. "Listen, this might sound ridiculous to you but I've always wanted to have sex in a kitchen but considering that I live in the dorm or I'm always in hotels I don't exactly get that chance often. Also, I really want to fuck you in a bathtub while we're on the subject. Honestly just about every surface of this apartment, but the kitchen is a good place to start. Don't you think?" Before you can respond his hands drag your ass to the edge of the counter and his mouth is on your thighs. Each wet kiss, each small nip, closer to your clothed and dripping core has you shaking with want. "Tae, please. Please, come on baby, please." You're not sure if it's the begging, or the use of the pet name, or just his own desires that finally cause him to peel away your panties but you really don't care. You just care that you're finally getting relief. "God, look at you. You're dripping all over the counter. What a pretty fucking pussy, and it smells so sweet." He licks one long stripe over your folds before clamping down on your throbbing clit. Before you can even react he has two fingers slipping into you, strangled moans bubbling out at the dual sensations. With each loud suck on your clit, his fingers prod deeper inside you, scissoring and stretching in all the right ways. You can feel that familiar coil tighten and lurch at his ministrations. Each time his tongue brushes against you, each time his fingers prod in just the right spot, you can feel yourself start to unravel. You want to tell him how good it feels, how amazing he is, but words get lost in your throaty moans. "You're going to cum already? You gonna cum all over my fingers? Come on (y/n), cum for me." That's all it takes to have you finally fall into your orgasm. Thighs clenching, abdomen tightening, toes curling. Faintly you know you're screaming his name loudly, but you're too far gone in bliss to fully register that it's you who's making those noises. By the time your opening your eyes back up he's finally pulled away from you. His mouth is still shining with your release and you can't help but groan at the sight of him slowly fisting his leaking cock. His mouth is on yours in an instant, both of you groaning at the taste of both your orgasms. Your hips jut into his, the desire to feel filled by him is starting to drive you into a frenzy. You need to feel him, one orgasm isn't enough. Never really has been for you, but especially not when it's finally with Tae. "Tae, come on, please fuck me." The way he groans low and sweet has you clenching around nothing and desire trickling out of you once again. You watch, entirely entranced, as he finally enters. You're well prepped enough that there's no burn, just sweet sweet satisfaction. His head rested in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses along the vein as he stayed still before slowly pulling back out. His hands wrap your thighs around his waist before he starts moving rhythmically. Each movement is harsher, faster than the last. Each thrust has both of you groaning at the sensation. You can feel him everywhere, so utterly full as he prods away at the right spot that has nerves on fire. "God, you're so fucking tight. And wet, holy shit. Can I...can I feed from you?" You can't help but moan at his words again. He looks so perfect, almost like a sculpture has come to life. The sweat is making his hair cling to his face, casting a glow to his tan skin. "You have to say yes, I'm not taking a moan for an answer." "Yes, please Tae." At the green light, he nuzzled back into your neck, his tongue snaking along the pulsing vein before his fangs sunk in. There's something about the mix of pain and pleasure that almost feels like a high each time. Sinful, dirty, perfect. And it has you tumbling into another orgasm around him. Clenching, moaning, milking Tae to finally come to his own. His tongue laps up the last of the blood, seeling away the bite as his hips begin to rut sloppily through his own completion. He stays lodged inside as he starts to soften and presses a few soft kisses on your lips. You feel not just satisfied, but somewhere into a place of warm and fuzzy bliss. "You know, it was worth the wait." He sighs at the sound of his phone going off and grimaces as he finally pulls out to look at his phone. "I have to leave now so I won't be late to practice. Can I...come back over tomorrow? I don't have the day off, but I do have a break in the afternoon." "Of course, just text me when you're on your way over. Don't push yourself too hard." Tae gives a boxy grin as he pulls on his clothes before weaving his fingers into your hair and pulling you into a heated kiss. "As much as I love seeing you naked, you should probably put on some clothes so you don't catch a cold. I'll see you tomorrow, my queen." You watch him leave silently, a smile plastered to your face. You certainly weren't expecting for this to happen when you took on the job. You weren't expecting these blossoming feelings of love to take over when you started to first tease Tae. But the world works in mysterious ways, and you couldn't be happier with the results.

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