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sp4ceboo · 1 year ago

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Second Chance: Jeong Yunho x Reader

A/N: i honestly feel like i went through multiple divorces writing this

tw: alcohol, swearing, HUGE angst, eventual fluff, people are drunk, there's a party (yes that deserves a warning), gets a little smutty at the end, mention of marriage (twice), could be kinda ooc near the beginning because i started writing this within a month of stanning

wc: 5.3k

The second you step through the doorway, you're already regretting conceding so easily to Wooyoung. He's got his nagging technique perfected - you'd probably be curled up on your sofa binging your favourite movies, surrounded with snacks and fluffy blankets and the comforts of your own home if he wasn't nearly as persuasive as he is.

Instead, here you are, at a party you're not very... invested in, half sulking as San welcomes you in, wishing you were at home, watching the Star Wars prequels back to back with Seonghwa.

San is already half drunk. It's easy to tell; his face and the tips of his ears are blushed a rosy pink, and he's giggling at nothing in particular as he hangs off your shoulders, clinging onto your shirt as if he'll lose you in his own semi-crowded living room. You anticipate another five minutes of clingy San, punctuated by tipsy zoomies, before the alcohol he had (probably just a few shots, to be honest) kicks in, and he begins to feel sleepy. With practiced ease - yes, you've done this many times before - you steer him towards the sofa, grinning at Yeosang as you dump San next to him.

'Nooo...' San mumbles. 'Where are you... where...'

You pat his shoulder. 'I'm not leaving yet, don't worry. Yeosang will look after you.'

Retreating into the small crowd before said man can protest at this forced role of caretaker, you wade your way over to Seonghwa and Hongjoong; greeting both, you have a quick exchange about the former's outfit - one he altered himself - before briefly summarising your wishes about watching Star Wars with the latter. In response, he nods sympathetically, but you can tell he's got his eyes fixed on a girl somewhere over your shoulder, so you move on quickly, searching for Wooyoung.

Vaguely, you spot Mingi towering over almost everyone in the corner, but knowing that the one person you're trying to avoid today may be with him, you look away before your eyes seize the chance to find him.

'Look who showed up!' A voice crows behind you.

You turn around, rolling your eyes. 'And whose fault is that, Woo?'

'He's looking out for you,' Jongho tells you, appearing beside Wooyoung. 'Maybe you needed to get out of the house and - '

'And talk to you-know-who,' Wooyoung finishes.

'No,' you snap. 'Absolutely not.'

He pats your head. 'Here, have a drink. Maybe after it you'll be more open to the idea.'

Reluctantly, you take the cup from him. 'Thanks, I guess.'

Wooyoung and Jongho begin talking about some trend on TikTok that they're planning on roping Mingi into doing with them - in truth, it doesn't quite capure your attention as much as the tall, achingly familiar silhouette across the room does. Before you can stop it, your gaze snags on him, on the angles of his jaw and his elbows, on the curving slope of his shoulders. Inhaling sharply, you quickly look away.

And then you glance over at him again.

Just once, and just long enough to see if he's with anyone.

If he's with a girl.

You know he's perfectly capable of it. You know many people at this party who wouldn't say no to him, even if they knew it was just a rebound. You tell yourself you wouldn't really care, it wouldn't really bother you, but it would. Especially if it was her. Somewhere deep inside you, he's still yours; yours to covet, yours to touch and kiss and love.

But he's not, and he brought that upon himself.

'Hey,' Wooyoung says, waving a hand in front of your face. 'You in there?'

You smack his hand away. 'I wish I wasn't.'

Jongho raises his eyebrows. 'You should just talk to him, if it's bothering you that badly. It's almost been three weeks, you know.'

'Or if you don't want to talk, you can get as drunk as San,' Wooyoung adds helpfully. 'You would definitely forget everything. I don't think our Sannie even knows his own name right now.'

You glance down at your cup, and your stomach twists. 'No thanks.'

Wooyoung wraps an arm around you and squeezes you tightly, smiling sadly. You know he just wants you to cheer up, and this realisation makes you painfully aware of the way you're ruining the mood, of the pity in your friends' eyes as they look at you, of the stifling press of bodies that aren't even that close to you. Handing your drink to Jongho, you tell them that you're heading to the toilet.

You take the long way around San's living room. It's partly to avoid the area that you know he is in, and partly because you can feel Mingi's eyes boring into the side of you head. Skirting around the sofa - which is somehow crammed with triple the amount of people it's designed to fit - you wave at Yeosang, who's glaring at you from where he's half squashed under San.

In the bathroom, it's a lot quieter, the thumping bass from Hongjoong's playlist and the hum of voices muffled by the closed door. You glance at yourself at the mirror; you're confronted with your own slightly downturned mouth.

Well, you promised Wooyoung you'd come, not that you'd be happy about it.

After a few minutes, you deem it time for you to emerge again. Schooling your features into something a little more cheerful, you step out of the bathroom, only to be ambushed by the one and only Song Mingi. You sigh. You know what he's here to say, you know he's your friend and he means well, but still, you can't help but feel the beginnings of annoyance bubble up within you. Immediately, you push it down. None of it was Mingi's fault.

'Hi, Mingi,' you say, unable to erase the hint of tiredness in your tone.

'How are you?' He asks, concern bleeding into his features.

'I'm doing alright,' you reply, knowing he sees through you easily enough. 'Haven't been sleeping too well, though.'

Scratching the back of his head, he looks at you apologetically. 'Look, you know what I'm going to say.'

You sigh. 'Go on.'

'You're both my friends,' he sighs. 'It sucks to see you both sad. Yunho's been beating himself up about it for weeks, ever since it happened, and... I know you miss him too. Please, just give him a second chance.'

You blink. It's the first time someone's mentioned him by name tonight, and the pain wells up in you again, fresh and cutting, ripping away the hazy walls of apathy that you'd struggled so hard to build around yourself. Maybe it's fitting that Mingi is the one who causes them to crumble; before everything went to hell with Yunho, it was always you three who hung out together the most, who relied on each other and supported each other, no matter what. It was the closest thing to perfect you've had in your life.

Then Yunho had to ruin it.

He was too heavy handed when he had your heart in his grasp, he was too careless with the trust you'd put in him. Of course you miss him, of course it hurt when you tore him out from he'd been embedded in your life, nestled into the softest part of you heart. Of course you hate avoiding him, but you hate how you let him hurt you more. You refuse to let him in again, just to make the same mistake.

Slowly, you shake your head. Swallowing around the bitterness on your tongue, you look up at Mingi, a deep sadness springing up inside you at the despondency in his eyes. Your voice sounds disembodied, the words far away as you speak.

'I'm sorry, Mingi. I don't think I can do that.'

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After your talk with Mingi, you begin to see getting as drunk as San in a more favourable light. You let Wooyoung shove exactly two shots down your gullet before you realise that tonight, alcohol isn't going to help you; the shots are acrid in your throat, and the deep throb of the bass - which you normally enjoy - is beginning to give you a headache. Defeated and deflated like a rather morose balloon, you tell Jongho that you're going to get a glass of water.

You realise you've misplayed as soon as you step into the kitchen.

He's there.

Yunho.

Digging your nails into your palms, you jerk your head aprubtly to the side to avoid his eyes as they search for yours. There's no way you're backing out of the kitchen because he's here, there's no way you're so weak that you can't stand the sight of him. Determined, you turn your back to him, reaching into the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it up and sipping at the water. You can feel his eyes burning into your back, and this time you can't help yourself.

A glance over your shoulder is all it takes for the sudden onslaught of memories. Months of dates and years of friendship flash before you, tugging your heart this way and that. He stands there, propped against the counter, his brown eyes anchored on you, his lips half parted as if he's about to speak, and all you can see in him is scene after bittersweet scene: Yunho holding your waist in a crowd, Yunho dancing with you around the living room at two in the morning, Yunho making you laugh until you can't breathe, Yunho holding you tight as you cry, Yunho with his pretty lips on yours, Yunho with his beautiful hands on your body, Yunho telling you that he loves you, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho.

And then it's Yunho, bathed in morning light as he lies in bed beside you, his features serious and solemn and deceptively honest as he tells you the sweetest words you've ever heard in your life.

Finally, it's Yunho the traitor, seen across a crowded, badly lit club on the same day, Mingi beside him, disbelieving as he gapes at your boyfriend kissing a girl, a girl who is not you, who could not even be mistaken for you. You've replayed the scene many times in your head, the way he looked up, catching your eyes as you turned to walk away. He caught up with you in the street, and you had the worst arguement of your life in a seedy, dark alleyway, refusing to let him touch you as you cradled the broken pieces of your heart to your chest - it was no longer his to have.

Looking at him now, he looks different; like your Yunho, but tired. There are bags under his eyes - at least you aren't the only one losing sleep - and his hands clench and unclench at his sides, his jaw working as he searches for words. Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter, crossing your arms.

'I...' He starts, but trails off.

Something ignites in your chest as you watch him fumble over words, stumbling over unfinished sentences. Anger burns bright inside you, a potent mix of frustration and longing and bitter sorrow welling up like poison, making you want to hurt him like he hurt you, demanding retribution. All you can see his lips on hers, and it fucking stings.

'Why are you talking to me?' You ask lowly, voice frosty.

Yunho takes a step closer. 'I - I'm sorry. I miss you - so fucking much. I want you back, I need you. I just wish I could make it right so we could - '

'If you want me back so badly, why did you kiss her?' You hiss. 'Did you forget about me in that moment? Or did you just not care?'

He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. 'I, I know I fucked up, badly, and - '

You scoff. You're too angry, too raw, to care about the anguish on his face. He doesn't understand: he doesn't understand that he broke your trust and your heart and you, he doesn't understand that his apology is too late - it was late the moment he touched that girl.

'Fucked up badly?' You snap, incredulous. 'Just badly? Do you remember what you said that morning, on the very same day, while we were still in bed? Do you remember what you told me? You said that you were really serious. You said that one day you were going to marry me. Do you know how happy I was, thinking that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?' You throw your hands up in the air. 'Well, I guess it was all a shitty lie.'

Yunho staggers back as if you actually punched him. His eyes are wounded as they search yours, and he steadies himself against the counter, gripping it so hard his knuckles bleed white. Clenching his jaw, he stares at you, speechless, and you know that you succeeded in your mission to hurt him. It doesn't feel as good as you thought it would.

Then, the kitchen door swings open.

A swell of music spills inside, along with a very tipsy looking girl. Laughter floats through from the living room. Both you and Yunho just look at her, forgetting that you were arguing in San's kitchen, at a party, and she returns your gazes, bewildered as she looks between the two of you.

'Uh, sorry, I didn't know I was interrupting something. I'll, I'll come back later?'

You force yourself to smile, despite it being the expression your features least want to make right now, your voice surprisingly steady. 'Don't worry, you're alright, come in. We should probably go somewhere else.'

'Yeah,' she mumbles, quickly retreating and firmly shutting the door despite your words.

You glance over to Yunho. His hands are shaking as he lifts them, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, and all the fight leaves you at the sight. For all the years you've known him, he's cried maybe four or five times. Your stomach churns with guilt. You caused his tears.

'Hey,' you say softly. 'Do you want to go somewhere more private?'

He nods, his voice thick when he speaks. 'Y - yeah, my car's two minutes away. It's in the multi-storey car park.'

'Okay,' you sigh. 'Let's go.'

He's silent as you rinse out your glass and put it on the dish rack, wiping your hands on your trousers. Ducking your head, you weave your way to the front door, slipping past Wooyoung and avoiding Yeosang and Mingi's eyes as they stare at you, surprise evident in their features as they spot Yunho trailing you. You don't want to consider what they must be thinking at the look on his face. There's no chance that they won't miss the pain in his expression, and you feel sick, burdened with the knowledge that you were petty enough to sharpen your words to deadly points and wield them like weapons.

You remain silent as you walk with him to the car park - he doesn't keep in step with you, instead hovering a few paces behind. The quiet swallows you whole, smothering any rage left in your system, and you hold the lift for him, retreating to the opposite corner as he reaches out to press the button for the top floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you study him in the scratched mirror. Although you don't dare look up at his face, you can feel his gaze, and a lump forms in the back of your throat, thinking of how many times you've been tucked under his arm in the lift to his apartment, his long fingers stroking down your side.

Harshly, you swallow, reminding yourself that you can't let him in.

You can't open your heart, just for it to be broken again.

Despite this, you find your gaze straying over his reflection. He must have left his jacket at San's, because all he has on is his black t-shirt and jeans, the former of which is slightly damp down the front - someone probably spilt their drink on him, and the fabric clings to his skin in a way that makes you yearn to press him against the wall and kiss him until you're both dizzy. One of his hands is shoved in his jeans pockets; you desperately wish that you could slip your fingers in with his, just to feel his warmth and his skin against yours. Even under the crappy lift lights, he's beautiful, as beautiful as ever. It's how you've always seen him, how you always will.

The top floor of the car park is open, and during the time you were in the lift, it's begun to rain. You begin shivering, and out of your peripheral, you see Yunho lift his hand before he pulls it back quickly, as if he was going to reach out to you and tug you close before he thought better of it.

His car is the only one there, seeing as it's well into the night, and he unlocks it as you walk towards it. Hesitating with your fingers on the passenger door handle, you pause, debating with yourself - he hovers on the driver's side, watching as you deliberate before choosing the backseat.

You don't want to admit it, but you want to be closer to him.

Within seconds, you're sitting next to him in the back of his car, and you're faced with the looming need to pick up your disaster of a conversation where you left off; raising your eyes to find his, relief washes through you to find them steady, the emotions in them whirling and a total mess, but not too overwhelming.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself to ask the question that's been on the tip of your tongue all night. You tell yourself that you can do this, that you can pretend this doesn't hurt as much as it does, but it's quickly proven a lie when your voice comes out weak and smaller than you'd like.

'Why - why did you do it?'

A haunted look enters his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face.'I... I don't know. She pulled me down, and I just didn't move, I just let her, because it was nice to feel wanted - ' His voice cracks. ' - even though you had always given me so much more than that. You loved me and I fucked it up. I took you for granted and - '

Harshly, he swallows, cutting himself off. His words are rushed, tight, his hands fisted in his lap as he looks away for a second, breaking eye contact and staring out into the car park as he steels himself. You're reeling from his words, from the painful honesty that laces them, like poison on a blade. There's no doubt that, even with your walls up, you still love him, because his desperation is like a knife twisted in your heart - hesitantly, you reach out, wanting to touch him, to comfort him somehow. In response, he grabs your hand, almost crushing it in his grip.

'Please,' he whispers brokenly. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I - I just need you to let me love you again. I never wanted to hurt you, I - '

'But you did, Yunho,' you reply softly, grief making your voice thick and unsteady.

His face crumples. Bringing his trembling hands to his face, he turns away to hide the tears spilling down his face, and regret shoots through you like a bullet through the heart. Gripping his hand, you pull him to face you, but suddenly you can't stop, won't stop, tugging him closer until he's in your arms. It feels so right to share space with him, and you wonder why you ever tried to get over him and push him away when he's all you ever wanted, when he's your home. Sobs wrack his body, and you press your lips to his forehead, your own tears running down your cheeks into his hair as you tighten your arms around him.

'You hurt me, Yunho,' you choke out. 'I can't deny you hurt me. But it hurt because I loved you, and I love you now. I loved you when you kissed her, and I hated myself for it, but I guess my heart knew who it was made for, because I never stopped loving you.'

His chest heaves, a great shudder running through him, and he trembles, a giant felled by your sweet, healing words. He presses his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salt of his own tears in the wet material of your shirt; his fingers twine into your hair, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to get his words out between his rattling sobs in the strain of his voice, but he does.

'I - I missed you with every breath I took while you were gone,' he says. 'I lost the best part of me when you left. I love you, I'm a fucking fool, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - '

Gently, you press a finger against his lips, making him look up at you. His words don't matter any more, not while he's in your arms and not while you know that you should have never let him go, that you should have never let either of you try to live without the other.

'I missed you too, Yunho,' you murmur. 'And I will never stop loving you.'

At your words, he goes completely still. He's frozen for a moment, his face inches from yours. A shiver runs down his back, and his eyes dart down to your lips.

'Can I - fuck - I need - '

He's taut as a bow string, thrumming with energy, and you can see the desperation on his face - he needs your lips on his as much as he needs to breathe. And yet, he still asks. You know then, with every fibre of your being, that he's what you want, that he's the only one you'll ever want, ever love.

'Yes,' you breathe. 'Yes.'

Cold moonlight limns his features as he leans in, but there's nothing cold about the look in his eyes. One hand cups your jaw, the other cupping the nape of your neck, his long fingers warm against your skin - his breath flutters softly against your lips before he closes the gap between you. The breath is knocked from you; he's never kissed you with this sort of aching tenderness, and you sink into his touch, eyes drifting shut.

You feel like you're falling again, the way you did the first time, when you'd rant to Mingi for hours about the smallest touch or moment you shared with Yunho, except this time, you lean into the tug of gravity with an eagerness you've never felt before. Like before, you teeter on the edge of a precipice, except, this time, you know what's at the bottom; you know the exhiliration of the fall, and the deep, aching love that awaits.

You jump, arms outstretched, knowing Yunho will catch you.

After you kiss Yunho for what seems like hours, running your hands up his back and burying them into his hair, pressing him closer to you and drinking him in, he drives you home. You're still drunk on his taste as you curl into him on your sofa, talking to him about nothing in particular, just soaking in the euphoria of being in his arms again; truly, you don't notice that your words become further and further apart, and that your eyes are drooping - you're too busy listening to the soft timbre of his voice.

Nothing matters to you in this moment. It's just you and him, wonderfully relaxed against each other, not allowing an inch of space between you. Honestly, you're unsure where you end and Yunho begins.

Your heart is overflowing.

You're home.

Yunho isn't quite aware what the words leaving his mouth mean. He's too busy studying the tilt of your neck and the way your lashes fall against your face, relearning the essence of you. A smile tugs at his lips when you finally succumb to sleep, head flopping against his chest. It reminds him of the many occurences when you'd fall asleep on him while watching movies: the times before he asked you out, when he'd carefully hold you, his heart pounding in his ears, and the times after, where he'd cradle you to him, peppering kisses all over your face.

Gently, he gathers you up in his arms and carries you to your bed, laying you down and tucking the blanket from the sofa over you - he knows you hate to get under the sheets without a shower and your so called 'outside clothes' off. Planning to quietly return to his car, Yunho straightens, but a small tug at the bottom of his shirt prevents him from standing up all the way. A glance down finds your fingers fisted in the hem of the black fabric; blearily, you blink your eyes at him, peeking out from beneath the blanket.

'Stay,' you mumble. 'Please.'

Yunho's heart flutters in his chest. You're beautiful, even with your hair a mess and your eyes and face still a little red from crying, and he could never resist you. He thinks he'd do anything for you, if you'd dare ask.

This time, he's determined that he's going to marry you. He wants to be yours forever - he wants to wake up by your side every morning, he wants to come home to you, he wants to tell you he loves you in your every waking moment.

Sitting down on the mattress beside you, he lets you clamber into his arms and snuggle into his chest.

'Whatever you say, my love.'

When you wake up the next day, you're utterly relaxed. It's as if your body knows that you're in the safest place you could ever be - in Yunho's arms. His breathing is still deep, his hair a mess, the way it always is in the mornings. You don't think you've ever felt this comfortable; the mattress seems to cradle your back, the blankets a warm cocoon around you, and Yunho is draped over you, his long limbs tangled with yours.

Smiling dumbly, you kiss his fluffed up hair, carding your fingers through it. A soft laugh leaves you when you realise his mouth is half open and that he's drooling on you, his cheek pressed against your shoulder.

Extracting one arm from beneath the blankets, you scrabble around your bedside for your phone. Yunho makes a soft sleepy noise, a frown digging into his forehead, and you hush him, rubbing his back soothingly; you're terribly relaxed right now, and you don't want to get up just yet.

In fact, you're pretty sure you want to stay like this forever.

Quickly, you snap a few pictures of him on your phone, unable to resist. Scrolling through your notifications from last night, you find a text from Mingi, asking how you are - he doesn't ask why you left the party with Yunho yesterday, or how it went, but his curiosity is still evident. You open the chat, a grin making its way onto your face.

Second chance granted, you type.

And then you throw your phone back onto your bedside table, ready to enjoy your morning with the man stirring in your arms. Yunho huffs quietly as he surfaces from his dreams, his long arms tightening around you; he buries his face into your neck, pressing a sweet kiss there, then another and another. Threading your fingers into his hair, your eyes close as he mouths at the hollow of your throat. He shifts so he's more comfortably situated between your legs, and you kiss his temple.

'Mm,' you hum contentedly. 'Morning.'

'Morning, love,' he replies.

His voice is raspy - deep and familiar as it always is in the morning. A memory comes to you: one of the many mornings you spent with him in bed, the sheets tangled around your legs with his skin on yours, and your stomach flips, warm longing bubbling up inside you. Gently, you tug at his hair, and he responds immediately, something that you suspect was already semi-hard nudging at your core before he shifts back quickly.

You frown as he pulls back a little. Searching his eyes, which have brightened a good deal since he first blinked them open, you examine them for any caution, but all you find is a deep seated fire.

'What's up?' You ask softly, cupping his face.

He turns his head so he can kiss your palm. 'I - I want to... but I don't want to do anything too fast if you don't want it. I know I hurt you.'

Leaning in, you press your forehead against his. 'Fuck going slow, Yunho. I love you. You know I do.'

It feels wonderful to say. The infatuation soaking the words is sweet on your tongue, magnificently domestic, something you missed saying to him every day, whispering it into his hair and against his lips like an oath. You feel like you're floating, a thrum of heat flushing through your body at the look in his eyes. He's tense, his muscles rock hard under your hands, his gaze transfixed on yours. Slowly, his lips part.

'Sweetheart,' he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your neck. 'You're driving me insane.' His touch travels to your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin. 'I love you. More than you could ever know.'

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you find yourself mesmerised by him - his hair's a mess and his t-shirt is rumpled and emotions burn in his eyes, setting you on fire.

Fuck, he's glorious.

You grab his chin, fitting your lips to his. Yunho reciprocates like a man starved, his tongue licking into your mouth, hot and wet, his fingers curling around your waist and bringing your body snug against his - your head falls back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed when his hands trail teasingly up your body to cup your breasts, pushing up the hem of your shirt. Dipping his head, he nips at your skin, and you wouldn't stop the way your hips buck up into his even if you could.

A soft noise leaves your throat when his fingers ghost over your core, and he chuckles softly; you groan his name, nails scratching lightly at his shoulder, spurring him on as gently, he pushes your legs open, smoothly moving down the bed so that he's framed between your thighs.

He keeps his gaze on yours as he slips your underwear off you, a smirk tugging at his lips when a shudder wracks your body at the first touch of his fingers on your slit, your back arching - you'd be embarrassed, but there's liquid fire in your veins, and all you can think of is him.

'Fuck, Yunho,' you choke out. 'Fuck.'

'You like that?' He teases, slipping a finger inside.

A whine rips from your chest. You clamp tightly around him, vice like, and he begins to pump his fingers in and out, his lower lip trapped under his teeth as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Wickedly, he curls his fingers inside you, sending bolts of pleasure shooting white hot through you, his carnal expression turning almost sadistic, as if he's studying the exact angle at which your eyes roll back.

On your bedside table, your phone dings once, then three times more in quick succession. You know it's Mingi.

You ignore it. There are more pressing matters at hand, slotted right between your legs and littering feather light kisses on your thighs.

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skyloftian-nutcase · 17 days ago

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Sky sighed in contentment as he wandered into the ranch. Everyone had been invited for Christmas, and somehow Time and Malon had managed to arrange enough space for the entire group to stay for at least a couple days. He’d happily offered to share his room with anyone, and Legend had agreed to bunk with him.

It worked out well, considering Legend was such a night owl and Sky was just getting home from church at one in the morning.

“So, how was midnight Mass?” Wind asked as he lounged on the sofa, watching a fire crackle on the television.

Warriors elbowed Sky, laughing. “He fell asleep during the homily.”

Sky tried to defend himself, but he really couldn’t, so he just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly with a smile. It wasn’t his fault that he’d just finished his seven night stretch the day before, but he really had been surprised he’d just nodded off in church.

Legend cackled as he sipped on hot cider. “Typical.”

“Oh hush,” Sky grumbled good naturedly, striding towards the kitchen to get himself a helping of the warm beverage. “The music was great and it was very nice, thanks for asking.”

Wild shuffled in behind Warriors, stretching as if he were prepping for a workout. “Well, now it’s time for Christmas cookies!”

“No, sweet heaven above,” Twilight called from upstairs. “You don’t need a sugar rush at one in the morning!”

“Lucky for me, I don’t have to listen to you,” Wild yelled back with a smile, making a beeline for the cookies Malon had baked before she and Time had gone to work for the night. “Besides, didn’t you say you were gonna go to bed early?”

“Come on now, Wild, don’t you know by now that when Malon is gone Twi has to take her place as the Designated Mom?” Legend snorted, cheeks flushed with cheer. “He wanted to stay up until everyone got home safely.”

”Dude, you’re gonna be so freaking tired when you wake up first thing in the morning,” Warriors noted, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

It was too dark upstairs to really make out Twilight in the shadows, so the former military nurse just got a pair of half open eyes staring at him, with the slurred, “I’m already so freaking tired. But it’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to help him cook breakfast anyway,” Wild noted, before adding, “Which gives me all the more right to eat all these cookies.”

“Hey!” Wind immediately leapt off the couch, rushing to the kitchen to go to war for the sacred sugar treats.

Warriors huffed a little, letting his friend upstairs go to bed, and he casually snatched Legend’s mug of cider out of a hands, sipping it. Legend spluttered and hissed at him in response.

“You don’t get any cider, no drinks until tomorrow!” He snapped, taking his mug back.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Warriors huffed, mildly annoyed.

“We made the agreement for you,” Wind called from the kitchen.

“Traitor,” Wars grumbled.

Legend walked towards Sky, who had just armed himself with a mug of cider and was already swaying in place, ready to pass out. “You guys have fun. The rest of us are going to bed.”

”You’re an insomniac,” Sky slurred as Legend started dragging him towards the stairs. “You’re not going to sleep yet.”

“No, but I can make sure Malon and Time’s room is prepped for them, as well as Four’s,” Legend answered easily. “Hyrule should still be up, I think.”

“Yeah, where is Hyrule?” Wind asked, cheeks so stuffed with cookies he looked like a chipmunk. Wild looked similar, and both were ruffled and covered in crumbs after fighting.

“I thought he was sharing a room with Twilight?”

“No, I’m sharing a room with Twilight.”

“He’s got Four’s bedroom, right?”

“He said he was going to walk on the trails in the wooded areas nearby.”

“It’s one in the morning! Has no one seen him?!”

”Twilight!” Warriors called, knowing that he of all people would’ve kept track of everyone while he was gone.

Before the tech could respond, the door to the ranch opened once more to reveal their missing friend. Hyrule walked in cheerily, face flushed from the cold, smiling brightly as he saw everyone. “You’re back! How was church?”

“You were out this whole time?!” Legend asked, incredulous. “Dude, where the hell did you go? You could’ve been mauled by an animal or murdered or—”

“Ledge, you worry too much,” Hyrule laughed. “I was fine. Just taking some time to wander and explore. It’s really pretty with the full moon out. Found some neat stuff, and it gave me time to just… think about things, you know?”

“Wha’ th’ngs?” Wind asked, pieces of cookie flying from his mouth.

Warriors groaned at the teenager. “Dude, that’s disgusting, at least swallow the eighty cookies before you start talking through them—”

“I thought about how thankful I am for all of you,” Hyrule said quietly, looking down shyly. But then he smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “But I also thought of some great games.”

Sky opened his mouth to acknowledge Hyrule’s quiet statement, but he was interrupted when Wild eagerly asked, “What games? Tell me twister’s one of them because I am so excited to watch everyone try that.”

“Okay, yes, but also… Reverse Mistletoe,” Hyrule said sagely.

”What’s that?”

”We hide mistletoe everywhere, but if you’re stuck under one you have to spray somebody with a flush instead of kissing them.”

“Uh, Rulie, we’d need flushes for that,” Wind noted.

Warriors barked out a laugh. “Wind, we all horde flushes. Legend probably has twenty in his scrub pocket from last night’s shift.”

“Twenty-two, actually,” Legend corrected nonchalantly.

“Also,” Hyrule continued. “Bullshit is a great game. It’s a card game.”

“We should play that now!” Wild suggested happily, looking around for a deck of cards.

Sky hummed happily in agreement, shuffling towards Hyrule before getting redirected once more by Legend. “No, you’re going to bed.”

The pilot was tempted to argue, but honestly, he knew he’d be asleep no matter where he ended up. He might as well rest somewhere comfortable.

Sky passed out quickly after heading to his room, and though the others stayed awake for a while longer, peace started to settle over the house. Candlelight kept the playing cards visible enough as contenders hissed insults and jokes in equal measure at each other, and after Wind had managed to win two games in a row, Warriors eventually suggested everyone get some sleep.

By morning, Time and Malon dragged their feet through the front door, following Four closely as the three exchanged warm but tired greetings.

”Did you guys get any of the Christmas dinner from the cafeteria?” Malon asked.

Time shrugged. “I think I fell asleep in the on-call room too early for that. And then the code woke me up.”

Four sighed. “The code was my patient, so no. But Dot brought me some to munch on throughout the night.”

The three stopped as they smelled breakfast being made, and they automatically were drawn to the kitchen. They passed through the dining room first to see everything set up for a veritable feast, and Wild peeked his head into the area.

“Merry Christmas!” He greeted, and Malon pulled him into a hug.

Exhaustion won out in the group over prolonged conversation, but the food was warm and the company was even better. Twilight and Wild ate with them and then quickly set back to keeping the rest of the food warm and cleaning dishes, allowing the three to shower and go to bed.

The large group trickled in and out of hte dining area, eating at varying points, Sky waking up last, before they all lounged in the den. Hyrule, Wild, Wind, and Twilight played Twister (Hyrule then planned to hide mistletoe all over the house alongside strategically placed flushes), while Warriors and Legend sat on the couch and recliner, respectively, reading books. Sky threw a pillow down on the sofa beside Wars, wrapping himself up in a blanket, belly full and ready for another nap.

It wasn’t the wild or merry Christmas morning that might traditionally fill homes, and very few words were exchanged, but it was peaceful, and that was enough for them. Eventually, the night shift crew would awaken, Time descending the stairs first, and the real fun would begin.

#writing #lu in healthcare #Christmas vibes for everyone :)

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eyesthecolorofarson · 1 year ago

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Lower Lifeforms

Someone has broken into The Batcave. They don’t know how, but suddenly two lifeforms were detected in the middle of the Batmobiles runway. Lifeforms, Tim noted, not humans. They all rushed into the cave, and were met with two Damian’s.

They could tell who their Damian was by the Robin costume so not a shapeshifter, but he was wearing a black suit with white gloves, boots and cape with a pulled down hood. His hair took the form of a flame, and his eyes were glowing red. Despite this his facial features were identical to Damian’s, even the scowl directed at them looked to be pulled right off of Damian’s face.

He heard Jason shout and turned to see a girl, also identical to Damian and more so with the other one, fighting Jason and Dick at the same time. She was wearing a suit similar to the other, just the top was cropped and half was white and the other half black. Tim joined the fray, but they were quickly defeated. Ice was wrapped around their arms and legs, and Damian was already iced to the floor. The girl whooped and jumped over them playfully.

“Great,” he heard Jason mutter, “more demon brats.” The girl paused and turned, as did the boy. They tilted their heads in sync, the boy looking far more annoyed and the girl amused. “‘Demon brat’,” she repeated thoughtfully, “Is that a new slur humans are callin us?” The boy scoffed so much like Damian and walked towards the Batcomputer. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” He turned towards them and glared.

“It’s just as uncreative as the other ones.” He turned back to the Batcomputer and started typing. Ok, Tim thought, let’s recap. There were two kids who looked identical to Damian in the Batcave. These kids were a different species that had interacted with humans before, and all these interactions had been bad enough and gone on long enough that there were human slurs for their species. These Damian-lookalikes wanted information on all the meta laws and extraterrestrial species laws in place on earth, from what he could see the boy looking up on the Batcomputer.

“It’s not! Really it’s not! It’s just that—“ Dick didn’t get to continue. The ice around his arms extended to cover his mouth, stopping just below his nose. The same happened to them. “Hey!” The girl whined, “I wanted to hear what he’d say!” The boy scoffed. “Humans don’t have anything good to say about us, so I don’t understand why you always want to hear them talk.” The girl huffed and went to the boys side.

“It’s history! We can put it in the books ‘humans called us this for this reason, and it meant this’,” she mimed reading from a book, and the boy huffed. “We already know why they call us names. It’s not any important as the other ones.” It was silent as he typed quickly, and more information came up. Earths relationship with the Martians, the Tamaraneans, Kryptonions, magic users and ultraterrestrials. So they were from off planet.

“What if they’re nice?” The girl asked, and the boy sighed. “Have you ever met a nice human?” The girl answered no. “Have you ever heard of a nice human?” The girl thought, then answered no. “Has any human even pretended to be nice to you?” The girl answered no again. “Humans aren’t capable of being what we know as ‘nice’ or ‘kind’; kindness is a form of higher cognitive ability and empathy, something human brains haven’t developed over the hundreds of years they’ve had the chances to. What they instead developed is a higher level of aggression.”

The boy touched screen, and the Batcomputer glitched as something green spread into the boys hand. He pulled his hand away, and turned towards them. The ice around their mouths and Damian melted away, leaving no water behind. “What are you?” Damian hissed, and was easily knocked to the ground. “If you hate us so much, why not kill us?” The boys scoffed and leaned in close.

“Because we are better than you. The only thing humans see as an answer is war, is blood and death. We’re capable of more than the senseless violence you’ve built your societies on.” He stood smoothly and walked down the way they’d appeared. “Da⃠nella,” he called, “let’s go.” Da⃠nella waved and the rest of the ice melted, and they scrambled to follow.

The last they saw of Da⃠nella and the boy they were walking into a bright green portal.

#dan phantom redemption #dp x dc prompt #batfamily #dp x dc crossover #dan phantom #danielle phantom #Ghost are different species au #Ultraterrestrials au #If you want to continue this please do!

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stray-kaz · 1 year ago

Text

Need : a Lee Yeon x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Yeon returns from time away to his wife in bed half asleep. Half asleep and yearning. Self indulgences ensue.

Adults only, please and thank you.

The bedroom was soaked in static greys, but for the slice of white light that cut through the dark as Yeon slipped inside, his feet already bare and mind fixed on sleeping next to you. However, the moment his body touched the mattress, you rolled to face him, eyes barely open and struggling to see him.

He smiled and you reached out with both arms until he pulled you across to him, one leg hooking over his waist, your stomach pressed firmly to his. The moment your body touched his, your eyes closed all the way and you felt every single nerve ending sear alight. You shuffled nearer, pushing your head onto his shoulder, desire and sleep warring.

Yeon had been gone for eleven days. You had counted each and every single one of them.

"Hello, honey, I'm home" he murmured, and you heard his smile in the cliche words.

Eleven days.

You ached and throbbed for him, burned, wanted for him.

You muffled a whine by pressing your face down onto his chest, pale cotton the only barrier between your lips and his bare skin. You jumped a little when his hand came down on the back of your neck, your entire body cinching tighter to his in response, a glowing pulse beginning between your thighs.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Yeon asked you, neck lifted to crane down at you clinging to him. "You're acting like a koala."

"I missed you" you mumbled, still hiding your burning face in his t-shirt.

He cocked his head to the side, then shook it slowly.

"No..."

He slowly moved his hand off your neck and worked it down underneath your cheek, instantly feeling the heat of your flush. You couldn't help yourself; you leaned into his touch, craving the comparative coolness of his skin. Yeon smiled, leaning back onto his pillow.

"Ah" he said softly. "You're in heat."

You twitched.

"I am not an animal" you argued, tilting your head enough to glimpse the cut of his jaw and his full mouth.

He huffed a laugh.

"Maybe not, honey, but you are married to one, as you so often like to remind me. And this fox can smell you, wife."

You huffed back, embarrassment arrowing through you, and started to pull away, determined to sleep elsewhere if he was just going to laugh at you. But Yeon grasped your hand, shaking his head at you. He tugged you back onto him, smiling gently when you collapsed against his chest and pressed your open mouth to his neck, whimpering at the feel of your covered heat brushing over the front of his pajama pants. Having him between your legs again, even not yet aroused, was enough to make you dizzy.

You didn't realise you were rocking down against him until he placed a steadying hand in the small of your back and began to make quiet shushing noises to ease the whimpers you also were not aware you were making.

"I wasn't gone that long" he murmured.

You shook your head against his.

"Eleven whole days" you argued.

"Was it?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes" you grumbled.

Yeon shifted to get more comfortable and you settled down firmly, sitting up and pinning him in place beneath you. He blinked up at you, able to see easily in the dark. He reached up to touch your cheek, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

"Aw, honey, did you miss me that much?"

You realised there was no point in lying, so you just hung your head and nodded, pressing your hands onto his shoulders. He set two fingers under your chin and tipped your head back so he could see your eyes.

"Don't be ashamed" he said quietly. "Come down here."

You went easily, letting him kiss you slow and lazy, his lips moving like a drug against yours. You knew he was trying to calm you down, ease the tension you were drowning in from days without him. But all it did was increase your fever and pile onto your desire to be one with him again.

Yeon groaned quietly into the kiss when you started to rock your hips back and forth over him again, feeling him slowly swell against you. He broke away from your mouth and peered at you.

"I thought you were tired" he accused gently. "Your last message said you were heading to bed early."

"I am tired" you agreed. "But I also really need you. Please, fox husband."

The flash of his grin sent butterflies throughout your body, tingling in your fingertips and toes, a spike of heat driving between your thighs.

"Anything when you say please, human wife."

You sighed in relief and closed your eyes as he touched his lips to yours once more, a gentle, barely there press that had your mind fogging and your thighs clenching against his hips. You felt him smile as he rolled you both too easily, now pinning you beneath his weight, your body pressing deep into the mattress.

Yeon lightly dragged himself against you, drawing heady, soft whimpers from your throat as you grasped at him, sliding your palms up from his shoulders to his jaw and eventually into his hair, your fingers tangling in it.

"Shh" he said softly again. "Don't cry. I'll get you there."

You shook your head, kissed him fiercely and caged his head with your arms, holding onto burning eye contact with him as you slowly withdrew.

"Don't tease me, Yeon" you pleaded with him. "Not tonight. I need you right now."

Curious, his dark eyes staying on you, he slipped a hand below the waistband of your underwear, your oversized sleep tee rucked up around your waist from sleeping earlier. His lips parted and his eyes widened a little as he felt wet coat the pads of his fingers, sliding over his skin as he rubbed them together. He leaned down and rubbed his cheek against yours, panting slightly.

"How?" he demanded, pulling his hand free after a gentle press on your clit.

You wiggled under him, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

"Really missed you, Yeon" you whispered shamelessly. "Please..."

He pulled away just long enough to yank his t-shirt off over his head before returning to you and wriggling your sleep tee up over your breasts. He pressed his chest and stomach to yours and you arched and gasped at the coveted skin on skin contact, his warm skin dragging over your nipples.

Yeon hushed you again, his hips gently surging against you. No matter how you begged him, he had to draw it out a little bit. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip before inching his way down your body, littering your flushed skin with kisses. He dragged his warm mouth over your belly button before sinking his teeth into your hip. Your hips jerked and your legs wound snug around his shoulders in response.

Yeon grinned and gently kissed the bite mark, knowing it would definitely leave a bruise behind. He carefully lowered your legs and eased his fingers into the sides of your underwear, tugging them down inexorably slowly while you wiggled impatiently and he just grinned cheekily, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your knee as he finally pulled the cotton all the way off and let it drop over his shoulder.

"Yeon" you groaned, wanton and needy.

The air in the room was thick with desperation, warm and heady, as he kissed a path up your leg, nudging his lips against your inner thigh. You gripped his hair and pulled, trying in vain to tug him away, you just wanted him part of you now, but Yeon was not to be deterred. He stroked your wrist, keeping your hand in his hair, as he pressed your other leg down against the bed and nosed down to your clit.

"Just once" he murmured, making you shudder as his breath flared over you.

Your fingertips scrabbled over his scalp, desperately seeking purchase in his russet hair, as he licked a straight line over your entrance and lapped gently at your bud, shifting his lower body against the bed as you mewled and struggled below him. You tried to close your thighs against his head, but he forced them down with strong fingers, his thumbs holding you open.

You couldn't move as he speared his tongue inside you, your teeth digging into your lower lip to keep from crying out, your blood boiling to the surface as Yeon lapped and sucked greedily at you, quiet moans vibrating through you.

"Lord Lee Yeon" you moaned, trying to grab his attention.

It worked too well. He pulled back just enough to tilt his head at you and your fingers trembled in his hair. His eyes were glowing fire, the heat of flames burning through you. You slowly released his hair and moved your hands down onto his face, stroking your thumbs underneath his eyes.

"Hey, handsome" you said softly. "I missed these eyes, too."

Yeon's expression softened and he leaned up over you again, kissing your forehead as your own eyes closed.

"Please, my lord" you murmured. "My beautiful nine tailed fox. I love you, Lee Yeon."

He huffed and kissed you, mumbling the same words back.

"I love you, honey. Ready?"

You groped for him, kissing him hard and deep until you could taste his tongue, and he moaned, tearing from you and tugging harshly at the drawstrings on the front of his sleep pants. You reached down to help him, shoving the material down his hips until he nudged your hands away and took over, scrunching the pants into a ball and tossing them over his shoulder.

Yeon traced his fingers down your shoulders and arms until he reached your hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss each sensitive fingertip. He edged his teeth against your thumb and sucked lightly, earning a throaty whimper and your now free hand rising to skate along his jaw, tug at his earlobe.

"Now" you whispered. "Before I die."

He laughed.

"So dramatic, wife."

His right hand disappeared between your legs and you spread them even wider as he traced the tips of his fingers lightly over you, gathering spit and slick and spreading it further. You whimpered quietly when he took his fingers away again.

"Can you get those legs any wider, honey?" he murmured, stroking featherlight circles against your clit.

You turned your face from him, pressing your cheek into the pillow and breathing heavily. Yeon watched your skin flush, heard the hitches in your breathing and knew he couldn't tease any further; you were losing words and turning from him.

He settled onto his knees and tilted you a little further. You turned your face back towards him and the hope in your eyes stung his heart. Maybe he really had waited too long. Eleven days.

"I'm sorry, honey" he said gently. "Don't fret, I'll make you feel good."

The moment he slid home, you were gone. Mindless with pleasure, you rutted up against him and clawed at his shoulders, a slew of senseless whimpering moans tipping off your tongue. He soothed with soft hushes, ignoring the ten blunt pains in his shoulders, thrusting shallowly to meet your hungry, arching hips.

Yeon leaned down to kiss you, swallowing down your noises of desperation and whining a little himself as your hips bucked hard up into his, chasing him for a deeper sensation. He blinked his eyes open a little to see the furrow between your eyebrows, pinching tight at the bridge of your nose. You looked pained and he hummed in displeasure. He could feel you sucking on his tongue at the same moment as you squeezed tight around him, trying with all your might to draw him in deeper.

Yeon pulled away, his lower lip slowly coming away from between your teeth. You blinked dazedly, your hands sliding off his shoulders, down to his biceps, curling around the muscle. He balanced himself on one hand and used the other to cradle one side of your face, his fingers threading into your hair. His eyes had faded to their original dark brown, and they were wide with concern.

"You're not happy" he said quietly.

You opened your mouth, but he shook his head.

"Tell me what you need" he instructed, tugging gently at your bottom lip with his thumb.

You sighed quietly and wriggled your hips under him, eyes becoming heavy lidded at the sweet pressure of him inside you.

"Everything" you whispered, a little ashamed to say it any louder. "Don't stop until you have no choice."

Yeon's eyebrows rose and he chewed lightly on his bottom lip. He wanted to argue, press for something a little less all consuming, but how you were already rocking your hips against him in anticipation, your lips parted in faint pleasure, was stealing his ability to speak.

He took a deep breath to fortify himself before sheathing fully again. He watched your close your eyes and hold your breath. It got punched out of you when he drew back and surged forward again, slamming into the spot that curled your toes and shook stars from behind your eyelids. You gasped and scrabbled for purchase on his arms, eventually settling for wrapping your arms around Yeon's neck as he drove you deeper into the mattress.

You tried hooking your ankles against his back, but his thrusts were too powerful and strong, shaking you to your core and loosening your grip until your legs dropped out wide again, his hips no doubt bruising the insides of your thighs.

He was wild, his eyes glowing bright again, his jaw tense with effort, lips parted on pants of pure determination. He felt you pull him back in every time he tugged free, soft whimpering moans masking the lewd sounds of mixed arousal. Your cheeks flushed at the realisation, but you couldn't help staring at him as he gave it all to you, just as you'd asked. Sweat had glued his hair to his forehead and temples and his nostrils flared at your scent mixing with his in the air. He was glorious, never fully human and perfect.

"Yeon" you breathed, knowing he could hear you.

His head snapped up from where he had been watching his body join with yours, his hips stuttering slightly, twisting and grinding his pubic bone against your clit.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

The flicker of a smile and an answering hum before he surprised you, pulling you over him as he dropped onto his back, impaling you easily and forcing a choked moan out of your throat. You clung to him, head pressed to his collarbone, as he planted his feet flat and pushed up, hard. The head of his cock brushed up against your hilt and you knew, as your mind clouded and spun, that he was going to make you come along with him.

He had no choice.

You curled into him, arms still linked around his neck. Yeon's hand spread over your ass, holding you down as he jacked up into you, gritting his teeth, moving unevenly and without rhythm now, just pure power. You gasped and moaned as you fluttered and clenched around him, unable to move, held at ransom, unable to do anything but take it.

You felt it the instant it started to happen.

Yeon moaned right by your ear and your whole body shivered at the sound, his palm pressed down forcefully against your ass, and he spent himself in you, hips bucking up against your shaking thighs as he growled out his fierce release.

His rigid form softened and he moved his firm hand away to wrap both arms around your back, shifting to press his cheek to the top of your head.

"I missed you, too, honey" he told you softly. "That wasn't how I planned to show you, but..."

You huffed an embarrassed laugh and cuddled closer to him, his heart pounding against yours, slowly regaining its rhythm.

Yeon stroked your hair, whispering to you as your eyes closed and your breaths feathered across his throat.

"You can sleep now, wife. I'm home."

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

#lee yeon #tale of the nine tailed #lee yeon x reader #lee yeon x female reader #tale of the nine tailed fanfiction #liss writes

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pearblossomrain · 3 months ago

Text

a rather tired summary of my birthday gp (it's 4am the next day for me so...):

[p.s. i missed last week's because it was at 3am and i had work at like 9am 💀]

• wow this is kind of a terrible home race for perez 😭 it's so bad i genuinely feel sorry for him cos this is just not it at all

• lap one crash oh real racing is so back....no but genuinely did someone curse this gp bc i feel like we've had 10 red flags/crashes already???

• speaking of crashes it's a miracle they got george russell's car ready in time for qualis like that thing was BANGED UP

• being a yuki fan ain't for the weak like wdym top 3 in fp then out in q2 of quali and THEN a dnf?? i swear he's had more dnfs than anybody this season and it's not even his fault?? everybody and their mums crashing into him 😭

• anyways kudos to piastri from making it into the points after starting from hell alongside perez because of, you guessed it, yet Another collision/crash....maybe mexico should have hired a team of religious leaders to bless the track 💀

• the saubers managed p14 and p15 hey those are MY goats!!! (that team is in such a bad state i cheer every time they aren't last and im not even a fan)

• on the topic of goats....haas consistently being in the points was sure as hell not on my bingo but hey i'll take it?? good for them like they're driving a shitbox and a half but pulling that damn thing UP

• enough yapping onto the big issues like that 20s penalty??? that's actually kind of ridiculous like we used to have a 5s penalty for that EXACT thing why is it suddenly 10s and stacked.....fia really are just doing whatever they want i swear

• ferrari. SCUDERIA FERRARI. why did they make charles hold back?? you do that when you're very comfortably ahead and think you can easily hold on to ur positions not when a mclaren ROCKETSHIP is about to chase ur ass down?? girl u could have gotten a 1-2 two weeks in a row!!

• in other news rip to fernando alonso like dnf-ing on ur 400th race start and not even bc of racing but due to ur CAR is mental did somebody sabotage that thing 😭

• the rookies are kind of funny like liam lawson just picking up enemies left right and center omfg i support track terrorism all the time but the middle finger wasn't necessary tbh.....and colapinto oh my god seriously someone get him in a seat for next year he's so funny and delivering like come ON.

• at this point i sound like a college student trying to extend their essay and hit a word count but i genuinely did NOT realize gasly was somehow in the points until the end?? when tf did any of that happen. when did he start p8 am i just blind af??

• also already covered this separately but seeing the 2 mercedes suddenly fight had me yelling at my screen like GUYS WE HAVE BIGGER ENEMIES AHEAD WYDDD we can't have a british civil war!!!! 🤡

tldr; so many red flags and collisions i felt like i was going insane. also i am never staying up for another race again the latest i'm going is midnight and that's it 💀💀 maybe i'm growing old or something but im not built for late night watching help

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in1-nutshell · 1 year ago

Note

Maximals reaction to technorganic Buddy having a rough day and tries to run away (probably because buddy thinks that because their half human that doesn’t mean they’re like the Maximals) but they comfort buddy please

Okay, back at it again with the Techno Organic Buddy! They can't seem to catch a break, huh? No worries by the end, they will be fine.

Hope you enjoy!

Maximals reaction to Techno Organic Buddy running away

SFW, familial, platonic, angst but has a happy ending, talks about insecurities, (remember running away is never the answer),Techno Organic reader

Beast Wars

Being Techno Organic, Buddy always felt a bit ostracized from the people they knew. They thought their luck would change when they met the Maximals. They were such a lovely team and most of them welcomed Buddy in with open arms. Sure, there were snags along the way, but every new friendship doesn’t start out perfectly at first. The insecurities never left though.

Buddy never voiced their problems to their team, feeling as if it would be an unnecessary burden to give to the already exhausted group. So, they just buried the thoughts and feelings deep down, not a healthy way to cope but they couldn’t think of another way to do this. Today the lid was bubbling over. Primal had gotten in the crossfire between them and a Predacon (was it Terrrorsaur? Maybe Inferno?). He had to be taken straight back to the base for repairs. The ugly thoughts had decided to show up as Buddy and the other Maximals waited for Primal’s news. It felt too much, they needed to get out of here.

They were just going to cause more trouble if they just stayed here. Anyways, what was a part human, part Cybertronain supposed to do here amongst these ‘true’ Cybertronians. They waited and planned their escape. They began packing up everything they owned, which wasn’t much, and took out one of their data pads and wrote down a note. Buddy at least wanted to give an explanation in some way. At least they would know finally. There still wasn’t any news about Primal’s condition.

They waited till they were certain that everyone was in recharge before they acted. As quickly and quietly as they could, Buddy dashed to the entrance of the base and easily slipped through one of the little holes. An advantage Buddy had, many of the small holes in the base were near perfect size entrances and exits for Buddy. They ran. They ran and ran until they were sure that they were far enough from the base to activate their jetpack and flew off to their new home. Buddy flew for a couple of hours until they came across a waterfall, behind the waterfall was a series of ‘small’ cave mouths. Small for your average Maximal or Predacon, perfect for Buddy. They dropped their bag in a semi dry area and slumped on the cool wall and began to cry their little spark feeling the familiar hold of loneliness take over as they fell into a restless sleep.

Optimus Primal

As it turned out, Primal was fine. It wasn’t as bad as it looked.

No one thought about telling Buddy though, they had forgotten to tell them as everyone was preoccupied with other things.

So, when he comes out of the chamber he wants to know if Buddy is okay.

“Hey look who’s out of the chamber.”--Rattrap

“Good to be back from his little nap.”--Tigatron

“How are you Big Bot?”--Cheetor

“Feeling much better. How’s Buddy?”--Optimus

“Oh, we haven’t seen them since we got back.”--Cheetor

“Can you go get them, I need to talk to them.”--Optimus

“You got it!”--Cheetor

“What are you going to talk to them about?”--Rhinox

“I want to make sure they are okay after that fall. No doubt at least some bruises, but just want—”--Optimus

“THEIR GONE!”—Cheetor

“What!?”--Silverbolt

“Hold on what do you mean ‘gone’?”--Airazor

“Like they aren’t their anymore! Packed gone and- and they left a note.”--Cheetor

“What does it say?”--Optimus

“It says ‘I’m sorry for all the trouble being a techno Organic freak has brought you guys. I hope with me leaving your luck will change. I’ll miss you guys. By the time you find this I will be long gone. Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not worth the it. Sincerely, Buddy.’”--Cheetor

“…”--Everyone

“They really left just like that…”--Blackarachnia

“No, they really think that we weren’t going to go look for them. We gotta go right?”--Cheetor

“You’re right. Everyone huddle up there is no time to lose!”--Optimus

Optimus is quick to organize groups to go search for Buddy. He has Rhinox stay at the base in case Buddy came back and or someone needed medical attention.

The teams came out like this:

Team one was going to be Cheetor and himself.

Team two was going to be Rattrap and Dinobot.

Team three was going to be Tigatron and Airazor.

Team four was going to be Silverbolt and Blackarachnia.

There was no room for argument, as everyone was to a degree worried about where Buddy had runned off to. Rhinox tells everyone the general direction the cameras caught Buddy going.

Primal gives each of the teams a sector to look through. He is not going to leave Buddy out there alone for another night.

Primal sticks to the skies for the most part, trying to get a better vantage point. He is calling out for Buddy and making sure he doesn’t miss a single stone or leaf where Buddy could be hiding.

Ape Dad is Worried for his techno organic child.

“Buddy! Buddy where are you!?”--Optimus

Rhinox

He wants to be outside with everyone else, but he also knows the importance of being at the base.

Someone needs to be here.

But that doesn’t mean he is restful. Rhinox is constantly on the monitors and checking last night’s footage to try and get any other clue of where Buddy could have gone to.

He is also trying to get in contact with Buddy’s commlink. All he hears is static on the other end.

He is really worried about Buddy’s safety. They are so tiny and the world around them is so big and dangerous.

He has the med bay filled with all of Buddy’s medical equipment just in case the worst happens. Not that he wants it to happen… but better safe than sorry, right?

Rhino friend is worried for his tiny friend.

“Buddy. Buddy come in.”--Rhinox

“…”

“Buddy, do you read.”--Rhinox

“...”

“…Where are you, Buddy?”--Rhinox

Cheetor

He was the first one to find that room so empty and that horrid note. He felt so sick to his tanks reading it out loud.

He is so worried about his friend.

He is checking ever place 5 times.

Cheetor is running so fast that he doesn’t even know until Primal has to com him in and tell him not to go too fast. He wants to find Buddy before anyone else.

He knows that the jungle is a dangerous place. He can’t imagine being Buddy’s size against the elements. Cheetor does look around the early human settlement in case he spots Buddy amongst them. Not a single clue.

He is running on pure determination to find Buddy before nighttime.

Little cats’ best friend is out there, and he wants them to come back home.

“Buddy! Buddy! Where are you!? C’mon its time to go home!”--Cheetor

Rattrap and Dinobot

Rattrap is worried.

How does everyone know?

His complaining and whining lack its usual bite.

Being the second smallest Maximal on the team besides Buddy he knows the disadvantages of being the little guy against the world.

Rattrap makes sure to look at every rock and small hole in case Buddy was around somewhere. He also regrets teaching Buddy how to avoid most of the cameras in the base. A bit proud but not right now.

Rat is worried for his friend.

“Kid! Kid! This isn’t funny anymore!”--Rattrap

Dinobot refuses to show that he is worried about Buddy, but he can’t fool everyone.

Rattrap can see it clearly.

While he isn’t the best at finding things, Dinobot is trying to make an effort for Buddy. As the sun starts to set, he starts getting ideas of storming the Predacon base. Who knows if Buddy had been kidnapped the night before?

Dinobot is worried.

“Buddy! This is Dinobot. State your location.”--Dinobot

“…”

“Buddy! State your location!”--Dinobot

Tigatron and Airazor

The pair are searching in the more extreme locations in their sectors.

They have more knowledge of the terrain and are willing to bet that Buddy is going to be the place where they least expect.

Airazor takes the skies, Tigatron prowls on the ground.

Airazor checks each location slowly and carefully making sure that Buddy wasn’t in the area. Tigatron is looking around the steeper areas and darker regions, trying to find Buddy’s signature scent.

No luck.

The pair get worried as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

Big cat and pretty bird are scared for their friend.

“Any luck up there?”--Tigatron

“Nothing up here. Anything down below?”--Airazor

“Not even a footprint…”--Tigatron

Silverbolt and Blackarachnia

They are the ones who find Buddy.

Well, more like Blackarachnia than Silverbolt.

While Silverbolt was searching the skies above the waterfall, Blackarachnia was supposed to look around the water’s edge near its banks.

That when she notices the mini cave mouths near the back end of the falls. If she were on the run and small enough, that would defiantly be a place to look.

She carefully climbs the wet rock wall as Silverbolt flies beneath her in case she slipped, which was sweet of him.

That’s when Blackarachnia spots a familiar body slumped on the cave wall in one of its holes.

“Oh finally! Buddy come out here! It’s getting cold and wet out here!”--Blackarachnia

“…”--Buddy

“Buddy? Buddy this isn’t a joke come on.”--Blackarachnia

“…”--Buddy

“…Buddy?”—Blackarachnia

Carefully she reaches out to Buddy using her long nimble arms and gently grabs Buddy and their bag. She jumps down on Silverbolts back.

Silverbolt is first ecstatic seeing Buddy but quickly turns into worry seeing them so limp and Blackarachnia’s panicky expression.

He is speeding back to the base with Blackarachnia and Buddy on his back coming Rhinox to get the med bay ready that they found Buddy unresponsive.

“Silverbolt to Maximal Base!”--Silverbolt

“Come in Silverbolt.”--Rhinox

“We found Buddy! But they aren’t responding!”--Silverbolt

“Keep calm Silverbolt. Just bring them in. How far are—”--Rhinox

CRASH!

“…Guess they’re here…”--Rhinox

Buddy wakes up groggy and looks around. They aren’t back at the falls; they are at the base. Was the whole running away thing a dream? They try to sit up, but a gentle servo holds them in place. It was Rhinox.

Soon enough the rest of the team came in asking if Buddy was okay and how could they do that that they were so worried especially when they came back to the base unresponsive.

No one is going to tell them that they were just a really heavy sleeper.

Each Maximal expresses their worry and that they don’t care that Buddy was a Techno organic. They belong to this team. They were stuck with them till the bitter end. Buddy by now has happy tears streaming down their face never feeling this much love than in that moment. They promise the team to never pull a stunt like that again. Rhinox does make the team back off wanting to let Buddy sleep and recover, the team hesitantly obliges saying good night as Buddy slowly closes their eyes feeling a swell of love in their chassis and for the first time in a while falls into a peaceful sleep.

#transformers #transformers x reader #beast wars #bw optimus primal #cheetor #rhinox #bw rattrap #bw dinobot #tigatron #airazor #silverbolt #blackarachnia #maccadam

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violetasteracademic · 6 months ago

Note

Hey bestie, was just wondering when chapter two comes out 🙂‍↕️ been refreshing ur page once an hour for dayyyyyys. 💓

Hi my friend!! So funny you should ask, it will be ready to go up by early evening tonight! I will let you know as soon as it is posted! (I'm in US central time zone. So about 6-7 hours from now)

I'm so honored and delighted to have you reading the new fic 🥹 I don't like to share toooo much of my personal life on here because this fandom is sadly not always kind to artists and writers when it comes to the hostility of the ship wars, but I do want to give a heads up that A Court of Twisted Fate will not be coming out *quite* as fast as Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. I blacked out and wrote almost 100k words of Golden Doe in a total disassociative bender in under a month and a half while I was in between homes, closing the final chapter of my old life after a long fought for divorce, and set aside my 10 year long business and career. I was in a weird little vortex and could easily get a chapter out every few days. I want to be honest with myself and all of you that I will not be able to match that pace right now without massively sacrificing on quality and thorough edits!

If I haven't said it enough, you guys truly have no idea what the response to Golden Doe meant to me. Writing that fic helped me survive a very difficult time. I had never written a fic before and didn't even have an ao3 account, I had to wait a few weeks to be allowed in. I had no idea anyone would read it, and sharing that story wound up being one of the most special and joyful times of my life, which seems impossible when I look back on what I was going through! I just... Thank you. I don't know what else to say. Thank you a million times, every day, forever.

I am starting life completely over in a new city and a 1940's bungalow that has had a few catastrophes since moving in 🫣 I'm hard at work job hunting in this nightmare economy and fixing up the urgent items in the house! So it's a different kind of busy filled with lots of fear and anxiety and mental exhaustion. Thus, I'm also trying to give myself lots of time to heal and recover. I'm hoping for a chapter once a week this round, but I might need some grace for up to two weeks!

This might be a good opportunity to answer some other questions I've gotten. Some have noticed the new rating is M instead of E. There WILL still be smut, but this is more of a dark and spooky old school style slow burn and very story forward. And while I hesitate to say the spice will be more vanilla, it is not as kink forward as Golden Doe! It will still be spicier and more detailed than what SJM would typically write (y'all she's tame in my book) but a different style. That being said, the piece is not finished. Sooooo.... 🦇 we'll see if kinky Azriel body snatches me again and demands that the spice be freakier and more frequent. In which case I'll update the rating.

Golden Doe started as an M rating and 15 planned chapters, and we all saw how that worked out!

I'm pushing myself to create a unique world and characters that are not just a carbon copy of Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. Of course, it is still canon Elain and Azriel! But I'm focusing on different sides of them. I hope you all enjoy it just as much, but if it winds up not being your vibe, do know I have a few ideas bouncing around for Golden Doe continuations, additional Elriel fics, and my inbox is always open for ideas and prompts/requests!!

#elriel #elriel fic writers #elriel fanfic #azriel and elain fic

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

Text

Hey Pretty Girl

Summary: After the war, Echo picks up music as his hobby. And it wins him a girlfriend.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x Reader

Word count: 896

Warnings: Fluff

Song: Hey Pretty Girl by Kip Moore

Divider by saradika

“Any new talent playing tonight?” You ask the bartender as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

The other woman laughs, “Of course we do! There’s a new guy who sounds a-maz-ing,” She gushes as she places your drink on the counter in front of you, “And he’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Ooh. High praise coming from you,” You joke before taking a sip of your drink.

“Right? I mean most of the guys who come in here for these shows look, well, like trolls. But this guy…” She mock swoons over the bar, and you laugh. “If I wasn’t happily married, and, you know, very gay, I would climb him like a tree.”

You shoot her a look of amusement, “Well then, I’d better get a good seat.”

“I saved you a spot up front, baby doll!” She cooed to you, “You need a good man in your life. And your bed.”

“Wow. It’s tragic that you think you're funny.”

“Your love life is tragic, babe. Now, go catch yourself a man!”

You roll your eyes and head to the front of the club, easily finding the table that was saved for you. You settle on one of the stools and sip your drink as the club slowly fills.

Eventually the lights dim, and the music lessens, and the owner of the club announces the 22nd live artist show, and you settle in to enjoy yourself.

The first few artists were okay. Not great, but not terrible.

And then the third artist steps on stage. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with dark eyes and curly hair just long enough to bury your hands in. And he’s carrying a guitar.

The bar falls silent as he starts playing, and somehow, his gaze locks with yours. And he smiles, slow and lazy. And then he starts singing, “Hey pretty girl, won’t you look my way-”

You listen as he sings, and it feels like he’s singing directly to you.

And soon, too soon, the song is over and he’s leaving the stage, and you know, just know, that you have to meet him. So you down your drink as quickly as you can and you slip back towards the bar, intending to ask the bartender to get you a meet and greet.

But it was unnecessary, because he, apparently, had the same idea.

“Hi,” He greets, his gaze locked with yours.

“Hi,” Your mouth is dry and you feel like you should be nervous, but, somehow, you aren’t, “You’re a really good singer.”

He smiles at you, and your stomach flips, “Thanks. I needed a hobby when the war ended, and I chose music.” He offers you his hand, “Echo.”

You take his hand and introduce yourself with a bright smile, “Well, you definitely picked the right hobby.” You praise, and there is a thrill of delight when pink dusts across his cheeks.

“Thanks. It was my brother's idea, actually, for me to try this.” He gestures to the bar, “Do…would you like to go somewhere else? To just…talk?”

Your smile widens, “You know, I would actually.”

Echo shifts, almost nervously, “Maybe, we could go next door?”

“To the dance club?” You ask.

“Yeah. I like dancing.” Echo replies with an easy smile.

“As it happens, so do I.” You reply as you take a half step closer to him.

“Good to know,” He lightly places his hand on the small of your back and guides you out of the club, and to the dance club right next door.

And as soon as you’re inside, he leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear, “Hey pretty girl, can I have this dance? And the next one after that?”

You blush, deeply flustered, but you favor him with a bright smile, “You can.”

He grins at you, and spins you onto the dance floor, pulling you close against him and holding you tight.

One dance turns to two. And then three.

You lose track of just how many songs you share with Echo, lost in his warm gaze, and the tight way that he’s holding you, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go, you’ll vanish into the night.

You cling to him just as tightly though, so you’re not going to be too judgemental.

Slowly, like two stars caught in each other's orbit, his head leans in and you lean up, until your lips meet in a kiss that’s sweet and gentle and everything that you ever dreamed of in a kiss.

One kiss turns into two, which turns into three.

And Echo drags you off the dance floor, to a slightly more secluded corner, where he kisses you over and over and over. And you lose yourself in him, but he loses himself in you at the same time.

“Pretty Girl,” He murmurs against your lips, “Can I walk you home?”

You press against him and kiss him again and again, “Yes.”

His gaze locks with yours, and his fingers are warm against the skin of your hip, “Oh, pretty girl,” He sounds adoring, “Can I stay with you?”

You trail your lips across his cheek and jaw, “Yes,” You murmur, “Please.”

And he smiles.

True to his word, Echo walks you home. And he stays.

And he doesn’t leave until noon the following day. Though by the time he leaves, you’re his girlfriend.

#star wars #tcw #star wars fanfiction #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #x reader fanfiction

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catmansquad · 2 years ago

Text

The Thirst (P3)

Part 1 Part 2

The Vampire Antics continue...

It had been a very long night for you, cowering in your own home, definitely hoping that the sofa in front of your door would be enough to keep the scary, yet handsome man with the red eyes and fangs out. You had spent frantic hours on your phone, scouring every bit of information you could possibly find about Vampires, specifically how to defend yourself against them. It was now why the doors and windows into your home were now lined with salt, and you cowered in a circle of silver cutlery that had been a Christmas gift from a long time ago, with a small bottle of garlic cloves, and were currently wondering if cramming a hastily-purchased rosary bead into a bottle of sparkling water would be enough for it to be considered “holy”. Your phone had become your lifeline, you had kept the nature of your concern from your friends, but had requested their company all the same. Even in the dead of night, your fear had been palpable enough that they had agreed to be over in short order.

The knock at your door gave you hope, and you felt your phone buzz with an incoming message. Groaning with exertion, you shoved the sofa aside, pulling back the locks and bolts, unhooking the chain, fully glad to see the familiar company of your friends in your time of need. You glanced at your phone just as you pulled the door open. “On our way”. You glanced up, the door open and you met the familiar face of the dark, handsome man in his fancy clothing, white collar splattered with glints of red, like tiny rubies. He smiled, the peep of fangs poking out. ‘Hey.’ When you tried to slam the door, he moved quickly, almost imperceptible, hand slamming tight onto the other side and you nearly staggered against the sudden resistance, even one-handed, his strength was frighteningly immense. ‘Let’s not be like that. I just wanted to talk…’ His words were smooth, tone sweet and gentle, like he was comforting a skittish animal. The tiny squeak of terror escaped you, as you tried to keep what little of the door you could between him and you at the angle it was at. ‘No… No, no, no…’ You pleaded to him softly, and he raised an eyebrow in question. ‘What’s wrong…? I just came to talk about what happened, there’s no need to be scared. Can I come in?’ You realized you had the literal home advantage; Vampires couldn’t enter homes without being invited, he couldn’t cross the threshold until you gave him permission. ‘N-no.’ You managed, feeling your confidence grow. ‘No, you’re not coming in- you can stay there…’ His fingers drummed on the door, and you watched his eyes close as he exhaled a soft sigh of frustration, then easily shoved the door open and pushed straight past you, straight over the line of salt, and straight into your home. You were starting to dread that perhaps Tumblr hadn’t been the most accurate place for finding information to ward against Vampires.

Miguel hadn’t taken being doused in water much better, brushing the droplets from his coat and giving you a glare of mild irritation. ‘Don’t do that.’ Hurling garlic at him had not gone down any better, they bounced uselessly off his chest, and he merely stood there to take it, arms folded with a look of mounting annoyance slowly creeping onto his face. It was at your last-ditch attempt, that whatever patience he had finally withered. ‘Stay back!’ You demanded, the tiny silver crucifix held out between you and him. Only then did you remember half a dozen of the things at Avis’ meeting had done nothing to deter him, despite Hobie’s reassurance. You felt the kitchen counter press against your back as he stepped close, pulling it from your grasp and throwing it over his shoulder to clatter somewhere behind him. That large, powerful body was pressed against yours as he leaned in closer, voice a whisper by your ear. ‘… My Gods are sun, struggle, and war… Smoke, sorcery, and night… I have long since made peace with them over my nature… Now, come sit down before you get hurt…’

You had all but fallen onto the sofa, guided there by his strong arm at your side. Now he loomed over you, arms folded again, regarding you thoughtfully. ‘… Are you going to kill me now?’ Your terrified whisper was responded by another questioning glance. ‘… Why-? Ugh. Never mind. I just came to talk to you… I’ve been doing a lot of talking tonight, chasing down all of Avis’ little cult and setting their heads straight.’ He hummed thoughtfully, and looked you right in the eyes, gaze piercing, intense. ‘But for you, I’ll make an exception. Since… I do, actually, like you. So; which would you prefer, my favourite little mortal; the beautiful lie or the bitter, ugly truth?’ He paced softly in front of you as he let the question settle, back and forth, shoes squeaking softly on the wooden floor each time he turned, eyes never really leaving you. Finally, you found the strength to speak up. ‘… You’re a Vampire…’ He stopped pacing instantly. ‘Ah, you want the bitter truth. Yes, I am.’ You recalled the memory of that night once again. ‘You… You fed on me…’ ‘Yes.’ The simplicity of his admittance both horrified and enraged you, the emotions must have crept onto your face for how he shrugged. ‘You wanted the truth; that is it. I was thirsty, and you were my choice for the night. Your temperament makes your blood very sweet. I hadn’t expected to become… Attached to you. I meant what I said, dear one; I still want to take you shopping, promise you a fine dinner…’ The anger still bubbled in you, it rose higher until it exploded. ‘Dinner?! You fed on me! You treated me like I was a juice box! You’re just a monster! A-A filthy leech! A monster in fancy clothes-!’ The growl in his throat killed both your words and the anger inside you. You were in a room with a dangerous predator. Alone. ‘How dare you! How dare you speak to me like that! I took you home, I fed you, I cared for you, I looked after you! I could have taken what I wanted and left you- bleeding to death in a dark alley!’ His anger was bright, eyes red and fangs bared in fury, you sunk deeper and deeper into the sofa as he stalked towards you, ranting. ‘I have watched for centuries as your kind make the same mistakes over and over again! I have walked the world, seeing death, disease and war…! I have loved and lost… So much…’ He turned away in a sharp spin, a hand over his face, fingers tenting on his forehead, muttering in his native Nahuatl before regaining his composure.

‘… No, I’m not angry with you, dear one…’ You wanted to reel away from him as he sat beside you, but some presence anchored you to the sofa, his arm rested across your shoulders, his eyes that soft reddish-brown. ‘I do what I have to, we all do… My kind and yours…’ You sat with him, gently relaxing into his embrace, your fears slowly slipping away. ‘W-was I a good juice box?’ He pulled you close, almost into his lap, his other arm wrapping across your waist. ‘You are more to me than just blood, dear one… I take happiness wherever it crosses my path, I would not offer to reveal my nature to just anyone, now would I…?’ You gasped at the feel of a soft kiss on his forehead, once again was he the charming man who threatened to spoil you rotten. ‘I will not hurt you… I never intended to…’ His voice was a gentle breath, voice low and soothing. You watched Miguel look up sharply, a smile creeping across his features as if he was listening, then you heard the sound of a car approaching. His eyes glinted with mirth and mischief. ‘… Perhaps you’d like to introduce me to your friends? They seem to be in quite a hurry.’

There was time enough to clean away the worst of your failed warding attempts before your friends were knocking on your door. It had taken all of five minutes since they sat down to be calmed and put at ease, with little more than Miguel’s charming smile. Perhaps too charming. By the time they did leave, all of them were thoroughly convinced that the man was your boyfriend and were happy for you. You pushed the door shut, locking it and turning to find Miguel, smiling smugly, ends of his coat pushed aside and his hands on that sinfully tight waist. ‘Heh… So, I’m your boyfriend now…’ ‘Y-you convinced them of that!’ You spluttered, watching him grow even more smug, fangs now readily apparent. ‘Mm, I didn’t hear you refuting that claim. So… Should we make it official? A little shopping spree before our date? I’ll let you choose the time, my love… I am in no rush- I have plenty of it…’ You knew you were blushing as he stepped closer, one thumb stroking softly across your cheek as he kissed your forehead again softly. ‘… You look so adorable when you blush…’ He stepped back, pulling a notebook and pen out of his coat pocket and flicked through it, scribbling something before tearing the page out, a number written upon it. ‘Do let me know… Have a good evening…’ You waited until he shut the door behind him for your legs to turn to jelly.

-----------

“My Gods are sun, struggle and war… Smoke, sorcery, and night” - He is speaking of Huitzilopotchli and Tezcatlipoca, respectively.

#miguel o'hara #vampire miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #spider-man: across the spider-verse

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mathlann · 10 months ago

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hey! has been seeing your rogue trader posts for a while, and can't help but ask, who is the mysterious ym? I pieced together that he's mara/rt kid (???) or maybe i'm completely misenturpreted. also I'm very new to 40k to know if it's even possible between the species.

anyway pls take this ask as an opportunity to ramble about him, and/or your rt's relationship with the murderous stick bug, i'm very curious <3

Oh! Omg yeah I can tell you about him!

You didn't misinterpret, YM is absolutely those two's Warpspawn, to the misfortune of everyone around him. Originally he started out as goofing with @poetikat because decent sense says Cas and Marazhai should not be parents (together) but he got too fun as his own thing so just exists now, although he's still semi-canonical until I finish my second run. (As to whether half-Aeldari exist in canon: it's very complicated, but its one of those things, to me, where personal HC is king because its 40k, rules don't matter that much if its not battle related.)

The rest under the cut because this got kind of long lol.

I’ll go backwards and talk about his parents first, and then YM.

So, to start, I always kind of see Casimira/Marazhai more as kindred spirits rather than a full corruption thing. They both are heavily shaped by growing up with high-status backgrounds within very harsh “prove yourself worthy or die” societies, and despite being proud members of their respective cultures end up exiled from their homes and stuck somewhere entirely unfamiliar to them. And as much as I find romanced!Mercenary ending a little funny (why should I pay you? Your wife has Profit Factor tf?) I do like that it establishes that they still maintain a lot of independence from each other. Like sure, Marazhai is Casimira's [romantically] and he sees her as his equal but he doesn't want to actually be her xenos pet and does want to build something for himself outside of her.

Personally, I see their relationship as being on pause while he goes off to found his mercenary group (RIP Astartia Werserian). The Kasballica being the ascendant faction of the Expanse by the endgame proper and the Corsair!Yrliet "Alaitoc war" ending half a century later certainly gives Marazhai plenty of opportunity to find work. His mercenary group is one of the best in the Expanse by the end half of the war and only then does he come back to Casimira. Of course when they are back together they're never apart for more than a few years at most, in part because one of the convenient things about him being a famous mercenary captain and her being a Rogue Trader is that they always have a plausible excuse to be around each other whenever they want. Their relationship is never public knowledge, but it's not necessarily a heavily guarded secret either. Those outside their immediate circle who do know are (usually) smart enough to keep their mouths shut about it.

“The Young Master von Valancius” (YM) is born roughly a century or so post-game, after the war with Alaitoc. He was an unexpected solution to a long-standing problem, ie, “Casimira not having an heir” and “it being difficult to find suitors willing to compete with a Drukhari.” YM is officially Cas' son only, although anyone close enough to her and/or Marazhai could put 2 and 2 together relatively easily, he's an even mix of both of them. However, as far as polite society is concerned, YM is a Genetor baby with an unstable genetic code that led to some mutations, but is otherwise, fully human. It also helps that Cas' features were more dominant when he was an infant, thus any official Public Space Christenings and the like could go off without much trouble (so long as a cap stayed on his head). For the most part, the mutant facade holds into adulthood, although when among the Aeldari he can be taken for a short Asuryani, but only at a distance, his eyes give him away (too human, too hungry looking).

As he grows up, YM does develop a love-hate relationship with being Casimira's heir, given that he is half-xenos and being set to rule over a giant population of humans. Firstly, he deals with this by holding a very idealized view of his parents, i.e., they are exceptional, therefore he is too, and as follows, anyone who doesn't see that he's special must be stupid and not worth his consideration. This inflated sense of himself and his place in the Expanse is helped along by the fact that he identifies himself as Drukhari first, and internalizes quite a bit of Marazhai’s “True Aeldari” bullshit (can YM call himself Trueborn though? debate of the century: 17k dead, 563k injured). Of course, as the child of a former Dracon and a Rogue Trader, he also sits at that unfortunate intersection between “incredibly spoiled” and “weighed down by immense expectations'' that tends to make him a very difficult person to be around to put it kindly. Marazhai is usually the easier parent to please, given that he and YM enjoy much of the same violent pastimes. Cas is the parent he tends to come into conflict with more, and much of his acting out specifically manifests as avoidance, especially towards complicated or tedious tasks he feels should be beneath him. Unfortunately for YM, his mother is very strict about him actually being a competent Rogue Trader, and thus the Most Special Heir does, in fact, have to come down off his pedestal and learn how to file his own administratum paperwork and the like.

Other YM Tidbits that I'll List for Speed

(Mostly canon for him so far/Stuff I haven't previously mentioned)

Soul quality-wise YM isn't two feet from Slaanesh's jaws the way most Aeldari are. But his soul is stained in a similar but stronger way as his mother's. He doesn't need it to live, but a general appetite for suffering is just a part of his being and something he has to deal with. Also, realspace doesn't affect him, but Warp incursions definitely do. Although the effect isn't as strong as Marazhai or Yrliet would feel, it's still enough to be a problem that keeps him from being fully "present" during frequent/consecutive Warp travel without some kind of coping mechanism (usually murder).

There are four Werserians that he's raised alongside as a child. They are all close as siblings and he is loyal to them secondary only to his loyalty to his parents. He will occasionally even take their advice before anyone else’s, which is good because they're a lot more sensible and levelheaded than he is. But also, that Werserian strong moral fiber tends to come into conflict with the fact that YM is very much a product of his parents and thus can be very reckless with other people and hard to accept fault when his pride is hurt. This may or may not get one of them killed at some point.

Despite the fact that YM considers himself to be Drukhari, Commorite culture doesn't interest him that much, mostly because he understands he would not be welcome there. However, he does hold an intense fascination for Casimira’s home planet and Ashleen culture. Iocanthos sits in his head as Human!Commorragh, and therefore is probably one of the best human worlds by his limited estimate. The fact that Iocanthos is a place he will never see, with relatives he'll never meet, and only exists in his mom’s (rose colored) stories about it also adds to the romanticism of the place with very little opportunity for it to disappoint him. Unlike the human planets and populations of the Koronus Expanse, who he encounters every day, and who largely suck (Foulstone and Kiava Gamma especially).

Inasmuch as YM does develop a lot of unearned self-importance because of who he is, he does find himself privately frustrated by the fact that he doesn't actually have many ways to prove/validate himself in the ways his parents would've had to. There eventually gets to be a period of time in his young adulthood where he is much less invested in his education as the “Rogue Trader’s Heir” and starts getting himself into dangerous trouble mostly just to see if he can. Eventually Cas does agree to let him (discreetly) travel across the Expanse and the Webway with Marazhai for a few years so he can get his taste for adventure sated. This is absolutely throwing him off the deep end so far as gaining experience goes, and Marazhai is a lot less forgiving of YM’s fuck ups, but he does survive the ordeal in mostly one piece.

#anyways thanks for asking about him this genuinely made my day #sorry i took so long to answer but as you can see there's a LOT lol would you believe this is the truncated version #YM #casimira von valancius #asks #alcassin #ezhan von valancius

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flowers-of-io · 1 year ago

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after a tide receding

Read on Ao3

Ór and Runi sat together on the remains of a drilling platform, the methane ocean beneath restless as storm clouds gathered on the horizon. It hadn’t started to rain yet, and the air was heavy, humid even through the rebreather. Ór’s boots dangled over the edge hundreds of meters above the roiling waters. Somewhere to her left, in the towering building, Sloane was bustling about in her old quarters, mopping out Taken goo, seaweed, and whatever else had gotten into them throughout Titan’s two and a half years of absence from Sol. Somewhere beneath, Ahsa was sleeping – safely and out of Xivu Arath’s reach, and that fact alone made Ór’s restless spirit settle at peace.

“So the Wicked Witch is coming back,” Runi said, half of his eye peeking out from his nesting spot in the folds of her hood. “Honestly, I didn’t think Zavala would cave in that easily.”

Ór shrugged. “He knows we’re running out of options. She’s the best shot we have.”

“But still, it’s Savathûn. Can you imagine the conversation he’s got to be having now with Ikora and Eris?”

“Glad I’m not part of it. The Titan Summit in the HELM was awkward enough.”

The wind picked up. On the horizon, to the right of Sloane’s building, a zigzag of lightning slashed against the darkening sky. Ór stared at where it had flashed for a long while, the after image burnt into her eyes, until she finally sighed and spoke.

“I must confess something to you.”

“Oh?” Runi twitched, then emerged from his hideout and came to hover in front of Ór’s face. He couldn’t quite catch her gaze behind the helmet’s visor.

“Last year, when the Lucent Brood hit the Cosmodrome and then Luna... I considered going to look for Immaru and perhaps... offer him a bargain. To get the Hive out of Earth.”

“In exchange for...?”

“Savathûn.” Now he was sure she was looking straight at him. “I thought quite a bit about what she’d said, and... She had tried to keep the Traveler safe, even if it backfired in the end. And we were already aware she knew a lot about the Darkness, far more than what her worm felt like sharing.” She bit her lip, chose her next words carefully. “And now... I wonder sometimes whether if we’d let her keep the Traveler in the throne world, all of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey.” Runi gently bumped against her shoulder. “Don’t say that. Everything looks simpler in hindsight.”

Ór smiled faintly and reached for him, cupping his round shell in her hands.

“Besides, Savathûn’s the only one who knows how to deal with Xivu Arath.” She looked down at the waves of methane assaulting the pillars the Arcology was standing on, far beneath her feet. “We’ve been playing into her hands this entire time. I don’t know what she put into the heads of Sloane and others, but... she didn’t mince words, down there.”

For a while the only sound between them was the roiling of waves—violently loud, but in a steady, comforting rhythm.

“What did she tell you?” Runi prodded, softly, when Ór didn’t continue.

“Same things that the Nightmares on the Leviathan had, really,” she huffed a bitter laugh, followed by a sigh. “That I’m wrong. That there’ll never be a different path, and if I keep trying to find it, all it’ll do is cause even more damage. It sounds trite, but... you know. ‘War is all there is’.”

The screams were still there when she closed her eyes, sometimes. It’d been three days since the Hive’s full retreat from Titan, but Ór supposed the will of a Hive god could hardly be constrained by time and space.

“She says these things because making us fight her gives her power,” Runi said.

“I know.” And she’d succeed masterfully, hadn’t she? Ór still cringed when she though back to that battle in the temple, the tormentor’s shadow chasing her through the labyrinth. Drifter had barely saved her life. She’d been so mad at herself afterwards, the screams mocking her stupidity, calling her out on being so, so naive. She had nearly agreed with them. “And she is wrong.”

She was wrong, because right now there was a Techeun talking to an Eliksni somewhere in the HELM, and a Legionary staring at the bright-scaled fish swim to and fro behind glass. There was Eido in her room in Botza, going through a pile of books she’d borrowed from Ikora. There were Iron War Beasts banqueting on Saladin’s ship, celebrating a victory they’d attained beside the Vanguard, shoulder to shoulder. Because the Traveler in the sky over Earth was cracked and silent but they were far from dead, far from defeated; and Ór had her tiny apartment in the Tower and for the first time in months she was glad, she was glad about the prospect of going home.

If this was to be a duel of axioms, so be it. She knew what truth she would be asserting.

She pulled Runi closer and rested her helmet against his shell. He chirped softly, happily—and suddenly it felt like a great weight had just fallen from her shoulders, a wave of relief washing over her and leaving her light and empty and vast, lighting her up from the inside. She looked at him, really looked, and wasn’t instantly hit with a flashback of him in the scope of her rifle. He was here, in her hands, suspended with her under a raging sky and above the raging water, and she knew that once she got up, he would settle back in the folds of her hood and drift off into a half-slumber, lulled by the rhythm of her steps. On the ship she would start the engines and he would chart the course, and then settle on his little pillow on the dashboard and complain about the AC smelling like methane and mould. And when Earth came into view in the windshield, she would see the Traveler and the wound in its centre, and not look away.

“I wonder if Immaru knows you’re the one who ruined that bring-Oryx-back ritual,” Runi spoke, his voice only a little smug. “Not really a good look on your diplomatic resume.”

Ór laughed—fully, brightly. He’d known her for far too long.

“So it’s back to paperwork and negotiations?”

“You know, I think it’s time you dug out your ‘Eliksni Are Friends, Actually’ campaign T-shirt. And maybe also that gilded knife Caiatl gave you for not blowing up her tank.”

She grinned.

“I’m not sure if they fall under the Official Diplomat dress code.”

“Hold your horses,” Runi chided, “you still gotta do some crawling through the bushes with a butterfly net to catch that idiot first.”

#my fics #season of the deep #ór #runi #oc #destiny 2

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atopvisenyashill · 8 months ago

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Dead dudes club Anon: I meant that Tywin, Rickard and Hoster dies when their kids are still young leaving their wives as regents for their sons. Like let's say Tywin who doesn't lose his wife but is so worked up that he has a dwarf son that he ends up falling down the stairs and breaks his neck. Hoster could die in a hunting accident sometime after Edmure is born and Rickard ends up with some sort of illness after he and Lyarra have Benjen.

i would like to apologize in advance for my incessant use of em dashes in this post lol. okay even with some adjustments, you run into an issue here where-

steffon, aerys, tywin, rickard, AND hoster all die within a few years of each other, and that’s going to cause a mass conspiracy. i mean JUST jon arryn dying was enough to make the twins suspicious maybe he was onto them & that man was old as balls. nearly every lord paramount dying within a few years is soooo weird. “well doesn’t this essentially happen in canon” yeah because of the political unrest happening tho lol there’s a Reason for it.

there’s no way for steffon to die in the shipwreck and cassana to be regent because robert is already 16 at that point - remember he’s a few years older than the twins! and you can’t have cassana be regent without butterflying away renly bc he’s born 277 and they die in early 279.

also hey 🤧🤧 i did the math just right there on tywin!!! the defiance of duskendale happens in 277, so the twins were only 10-11, which means joanna is regent for a few years still.

we could easily kill rickard off in a wildling excursion but brandon is 20 when he dies in canon which means he’s been lord of winterfell for four-ish years so no matter what, lyarra isn’t the one calling the shots by the time ~the plot~ really starts. i figured it might work better if lyarra is at winterfell when rickard & brandon die bc even tho everything falls to ned next, having a grown adult as The Stark In Winterfell while ned is in the wind/in the vale is interesting - unlike benjen, Lyarra can lead troops into battle. If she had been regent, it’s likely Lyarra is at Riverrun with the Tully kids and Minisa for the wedding though, which could also be interesting and i suppose also gives her more of a chance to actually LEAD because we know it takes a minute for northerners to get past the neck - as robb says, they even wind up starting the war without half their force bc a bunch of the mountain clans couldn’t get there in time. but if lyarra is there for the wedding, that puts her in a position to lead. especially without aerys there to call the parents to court - i don’t think rhaella is going to pull a stunt like that.

i think hoster or rickard is the easiest to handwave murder off - hoster is always up to some shit and both the wildlings and skaagosi have historically picked fights with the north from time to time.

and regardless of alla that, rhaella is likely to seize the regency with tywin’s help anyway - tywin has already made a name for himself, is aerys’ friend, and tyrion won’t be born until 273, which is eleven years after jaehaerys ii dies.

most of my answer still stands here - rhaella is taking the throne with tywin by her side, and you can bet in the years between cersei’s birth & his death, he’s going to be pushing rhaegar/cersei as a match, something that will be in rhaegar & rhaella minds after he dies; either minisa or cassana are likely to be the architects of the southron ambitions plot alongside jon arryn, and that alliance is still going to cause problems for the crown when rhaegar loses his mind, because the moment brandon doesn’t get a straight answer about where lyanna is, Lyarra is probably going to use the northern host to start sacking cities and searching for her daughter (since she hasn’t been brought to the capital to burn by rhaella).

the biggest change here is probably the twincest. we know joanna knows about it early on BUT. tyrion’s birth is likely going to put her out of commission for a minute or two. he’s born in 273 so if we say she’s healthy enough to start moving around by 275 (which. omg these two idiots were really out here feeling each other up at the age of like 6 ajsjs 😭), i imagine she broaches the question of jaime’s marriage at this point, which is probably also when rhaella starts asking around for suggestions for rhaegar. if tywin dies after tyrion, i can’t see her fostering jaime out because he’s lord now and she’s the regent. if she catches them together again, it’s probably cersei she sends away - maybe to lannisport, maybe to the capital (with herself, and kevan stays at the rock to train jaime). even if we have tywin die at duskendale, at that point the twins are 11, and it probably amounts to the same - cersei is sent away while jaime stays home. once he’s closer to 16, she’s going to start talking about jaime marrying elia, and cersei Will attempt to sabotage this.

the canon event goes: jaime helps defeat the smiling knight -> jaime stops at KL to see cersei -> cersei tells him about the lysa betrothal & jaime joins the kingsguard. this tracks even with tywin dead - again, likely (imo) joanna and cersei go back to the capital once she’s healed, and there will be still be an opening on the kingsguard. cersei has also spent several years with rhaegar at this point - he would have married around 176ish, so Maybe they’re married to each other or maybe she’s a lady to his wife - and rhaegar no longer has to listen to rhaella. if cersei is like “heyyyyyy rhaegar, babyyyyyy” WELL….especially if CERSEI is married to rhaegar. but even married to someone else, i mean, the first step to making sure they’re together forever is to make sure HE can’t marry lol. it MIGHT not happen - jaime has spent the last several years not as heir but as LORD and he might take giving it up a bit more seriously But he might not! if this plan is foiled, you can bet joanna is not only asking loreza if elia and jaime can marry RIGHT NOW (IF rhaegar’s bride isn’t elia), she’s also going to do something drastic re: cersei. and like idk man what do you do if your kids won’t stop fucking? send cersei to be a septa? to the silent sisters? she might, if cersei isn’t married yet, get cersei married quickly and far away from jaime but if cersei marries rhaegar, well……she’s not foiling this plot, it’s happening for sure. so basically either cersei marries rhaegar & jaime is on the kingsguard OR cersei is lady to his wife, which Might still let her plan happen.

#asks #anons #canon divergent au #the dead ladies club #also ‘dead dudes club’ lmao

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darkpoisonouslove · 1 year ago

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Hello, how are you doing? I was wondering how do you think Griffin would've reacted to Valtor being badly injured during the Coven days? And what about after she left? I think her feeling would somehow get in the way, he was the man she loved and she simply cannot be blind to his suffering.

Hi! I'm not doing as badly as I feel I am and simultaneously everything sucks so idk how to answer that question. I'm trying not to stress (I had an anxiety attack in the middle of the sidewalk the other day so that wasn't fun) and also completely failing to catch enough shuteye in order for my brain to be able to do something (and to prevent my eyes from dying). Everything is going slow, which is frustrating, but hey, at least it's going... I guess.

Anyway, I'm going to assume that you're the same person from that other ask I got a few days before this because the text is almost word for word. I suppose you can infer from the paragraph above why I didn't get to your questions earlier. I've answered the first half of this ask before here.

As for Griffin's feelings on Valtor getting injured after she's with the Company - it's complicated. If she's the one fighting him, I can kind of see her getting vindictive and wanting to hurt him because she knows that he wants to hurt her as well (not necessarily hurt her physically, but he definitely wants to punish her for betraying him). She kind of blames him for making her want to leave him so she has no problem fighting him tooth and nail even if it means both of them getting injured. But she also knows that no matter how much they hurt each other, she could not bring herself to kill him even if she had the means to do it.

Watching the other Company members fight him is... surreal as much as it is hard. She knows that they have to use every opening they have to hit him and hit him hard because he won't hesitate to do the same. She knows she has to let them do whatever it takes to stop him, because she cannot bring herself to be as decisive. She knows it might mean standing there and watching as they kill him and she's torn. On the one hand, she's aware they will have to kill him to stop him for good but on the other hand, she's relieved every time he proves that that is a practically impossible feat. To top it all off, she has to restrain herself from blasting the other Company members when they fight him. She was watching his back for a long time and the old instincts are still there making it so confusing sometimes, making her ask herself why she's fighting on the side of the Company. Of course, he doesn't help when he's making compelling points about why she shouldn't have left him (such as her having to play nice with politicians that hate her guts when she could have just intimidated them into defeat before while she was still with Valtor).

And then there's the matter of the Ancestral Witches, of course. While I don't believe Valtor would have told her what the deal with them is, Griffin is smart enough to have figured out that he would absolutely not play second fiddle if they didn't have some kind of serious hold on him that he couldn't overcome. Given everything else she knows about them (aka that they are willing to possess their own descendants even if that ends up killing the person once they leave the body), she's reasonably concerned about what will happen to Valtor if the Company starts gaining the upper hand and if they defeat him. She knows that killing him would be a more merciful fate than ending up imprisoning him together with the Ancestral Witches but he makes killing him too hard. In a way she knows that he's sealing his fate because he'll either win the war for the Ancestral Witches and probably be disposed of after he's served his purpose or he'll lose and end up tortured by them for all of eternity when he's making his imprisonment the more easily achievable option. To say that she's worried doesn't quite cover it.

Honestly, I love the idea that Griffin proposed the imprisonment in Omega just to keep Valtor away from the Ancestral Witches. She had to convince Marion and Oritel that trapping him alongside the three witches would increase the chances of them all breaking containment so it's worth it to go out of their way and search for the means to ensure he's kept separated from the Ancestral Witches. Can you imagine his reaction if he learns that she was the architect of his imprisonment in Omega? Would he believe her reasoning and would it matter at all even if he did? Fuck, I don't have time for another idea right now!

#winx club #griffin x valtor #winx griffin #winx valtor #winx headcanons #ask #anon

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autisticandroids · 2 years ago

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For director's commentary challenge: Cold storage :3c

[the goal here is to provide a director's commentary, a la the one i did for i fold in half so easily, though obviously less comprehensive. this commentary is for cold storage.]

okay so i don't actually have a TON. to say about cold storage. a lot of it is right there on the page. but i do have thoughts. like, primarily this fic was motivated by the desire to just have more crowstiel out there that isn't crowley negative? like i am constantly saying this, but crowley is like never the bad guy except in season eight and that was bullshit, and he gets done so dirty by the show and fans who buy into the fact that he's a demon without realizing he's just a guy.

When Crowley entered the lab, Castiel was lean-sitting on the edge of a table, playing with some little fiddly thing between his hands.

“How’s this week’s Waterloo?” He greeted.

“Disastrous,” Cas said, not even bothering to look up.

season six wartime fics are so importance to me..... i care about the angel civil war a lot. have you guys heard about walking on a string? anyway i wanted to at least mention it you know? and reference like. a classic battle. to make it seem more serious <3.

Crowley sighed. It was always a joy to ruffle the angel’s feathers, but it looked like no dice today. Castiel was too calm. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to give it another go.

one thing about crowley that's really important to me is that like. imo all or at least most demons have a sadistic streak that comes from like. how they're made. and a lot of them just like enjoy causing pain because it's what they learned on the rack. but crowley channels it into the fine, sharply honed art of being a dick and generally tormenting people verbally. he loves doing this to cas because cas is 1) a hothead and 2) misses a lot of the jabs.

“I heard they- hey, is that my chess set?” Crowley found himself distracted. He’d finally recognized the red queen Cas was playing with.

“Yes.” Cas still didn’t seem particularly interested in Crowley. He was too busy screwing around with Crowley’s chess set.

“That’s hellhound ivory! Do you know how long I had to wait for Olivia to shed enough teeth for a full set?” Crowley had set up a whole system to collect Olivia’s old teeth, with a special muzzle and everything. She'd hated wearing that thing. Enchanting a chess set the way he’d done this one required the whole set to be spelled together, and if the klutz of an angel dropped that queen he might have to start from scratch. Then he remembered something else. “You need demonic essence to open that box. Did you kill one of my guards just to snoop through my things?”

i had a HUGE amount of fun here making crowley into a big softie. obviously he could just kill the dogs for their teeth like a normal demon but crowley would NEVER. he's a fucking dogmom. he even feels guilty about keeping olivia in the muzzle. sidenote on olivia: i couldn't remember whether having a hellhound named juliet was a canon thing or a fanfiction thing so i avoided the name juliet even though i wanted this hellhound to be juliet. i picked another shakespearean name to compromise. then later i found evidence that juliet does exist in canon and is named juliet anyway, oh well. i'm attached to olivia now.

“No, I have access to plenty of demonic essence.” Cas didn’t seem interested in elaborating. Crowley was loath to admit it, but the angel’s disinterest was rather getting to him. At least look up when you speak, that’s basic politeness. Crowley scowled.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Share with the- ah.” Confusion and realization flashed over Cas’ face as he finally deigned to look at Crowley. It only took him a moment to return to his usual stoicism, though. “You have ejaculated into my vessel thirty eight times in the past three months.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows lift .

“You've-” He was about to say you've kept count ? but stopped himself. He knew angels perceived things rather differently. It probably wasn't strange at all for Castiel. It wasn't some meaningful act. Crowley was saved from having to finish his sentence by Cas’ interruption.

“I have access to enough stored demonic essence to open dozens of similar wards.”

i think he spits it up. like a bird feeding its babies.

There was a beat. Crowley closed his eye, then opened them again.

“... Stored ?”

Castiel was back to looking at the chess piece.

“I'm an angel. My vessel is kept static. I have no use for its digestive organs, so I use them for storage. I keep your semen in my vessel’s stomach.”

Crowley felt his lips part. The damn angel knew how to be a tease. Crowley never knew whether Castiel was doing it on purpose, but regardless, he felt his dick sit up and take notice.

Crowley had always heard that angels were hedonists. God made them without something, something they needed. So when they got out of Heaven, they were all hunger. When he struck up his little arrangement with Cas, Crowley couldn’t help but test the rumors.

It had turned out angels weren’t just hungry, they were insatiable. Exhaustingly, sometimes scarily so. But Crowley wasn’t complaining.

Perhaps he should be more concerned about Castiel’s new habit, there were all sorts of spells that could be done if one had access to a man’s bodily fluids. But the thought that Cas liked being his so much that he… Crowley stepped over to Castiel and poked him in the stomach, just above the bellybutton.

“So you just fly around up there, full of my come. You like it when I fill you up, hmm?”

the thing about crowley is he's only human. he's not above having some extremely normie possessive dude kinks. also maybe he has a crush but we don't talk about that.

Castiel looked up and stared at him, looking confused.

“The stomach is here.” Castiel tapped a spot higher and to his own left. “That's the small intestine. I use that to store the semen of the six human males I have allowed to ejaculate into my vessel since the averted apocalypse.”

Crowley drew in a sharp breath to speak but could not think of anything to say to that. There's no reason it should bother him, Castiel was a business partner he fucked sometimes. But he had rather liked the idea of his very own angel, happy to be all his.

“So you just… store the come of anyone you fuck? Just keep it?”

Castiel looked down at his stomach contemplatively, then back up at Crowley.

“Yeah.”

“What happens when you're full up?”

Castiel’s brow wrinkled. He stared up over Crowley's head.

“I hadn't thought that far. Perhaps I could begin storing the excess in my grace.” Castiel’s voice was contemplative.

“I suppose my question is… why? Why bother storing it? What's the point?”

“I…” Castiel stopped. His eyes squinted, then widened. His lips parted. He took a shallow breath. The angel looked completely and utterly lost.

Crowley felt himself breaking out into a grin.

“Oh, you're a kinky little angel. Never occurred to you to ask, did it? You just wanted it.” Castiel was staring at him now, looking progressively more nervous. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it? Up in Heaven, surrounded by angels and they don't even know. They don't even know you're a little whore.” Crowley laid his hand on Cas’ belly, fingers splayed.

castiel tummy fetish >:3. anyway it's important that crowley be kind of a misogynist because so far he's like squeaky clean and i don't want him to come out of this fic looking like a saint.

Castiel looked down at him with abject terror.

“I…” He seemed frozen. Crowley's words hung in the air.

the thing about cas is he just doesn't know why he does things, or why he wants things. babygirl behavior. further reading.

Crowley stared back at Cas. He stroked a thumb over one of the buttons of Cas’ shirt. They were nearly flush together, the only thing between them Crowley's hand on Cas’ stomach.

Crowley began to stand up on his toes to kiss Castiel but.

A flutter of wings. Crowley fell forward onto the metal table Cas had been leaning against.

“Damn all angels,” Crowley swore. Repressed bastards, the lot of them. Fucked like sluts but couldn't talk about a moment of it.

i needed crowley to degrade cas in his mind here to like. the thing about crowley is he's lost this one bc he's kind of been robbed of what he wants re: cas' body, and also he's got a crush and he MUST hide it. like crowley has egg on his face here and he has to denigrate cas to feel better about it, because to crowley every interaction is an insane dominance game because he's spent 300 years playing demon politics, and also he has masculinity issues.

He gave Cas ten minutes to collect himself before dialing his number.

“You know, darling, it's not polite to leave a man with blue balls. Now come back here and sit on my cock.”

again he's kind of doing a whole gender thing because he has dude neuroses, and also possibly pressuring cas into sex here, though cas is prickly enough that his naivete won't induce himm to accept, only genuine desire, just my onion.

#spn #asks #explainslowly

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