#evil forces give me the strength to finish the second part
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Horror of Empathy, Part 1
After getting access to Rhys's subsystems Jack begins to hear echoes of his feelings. The first true touch for a man who actually believed he was Wanderer above the Sea of Fog.
Part 1 || Part 2
#borderlands#handsome jack#rhys strongfork#rhack#tftbl#tales from the borderlands#rhys the company man#handsome jack x rhys#my art#evil forces give me the strength to finish the second part#If I had been born during the Renaissance I'd have the WR for being burned
473 notes
·
View notes
Text
Catched in a dragon's cave~
Yandere Aegon II x female thief reader x Yandere Aemond part 2
Trigger warning: rape, violence, blood, yandere themes, toxic behavior, I don't think that any of this behavior is fine!!! I don't justify any of this! It's just a made up yandere story so be aware!
Part 1:
Pain, that is the only thing you feel when Aegon starts to penetrate you. Tears run down your cheek, your whole body flinches at every trust he does. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction, you didn't want him to see how much you suffer under him. Abruptly, you close your (e/c) eyes, inwardly you pray to the gods that it will be soon over. Aegons is satisfied in every way he could imagine, your cute (b/t) body is trembling under him, a wide satisfying smile could be seen on his lips. You were tight, what he really loved. Especially on woman who looked so fragile and helpless under him. It was a good idea to make you his personal whore.
"You like it whore? Hmm, taking my cock so well. You can count yourself lucky that you got such a task." He pushes further into you, nothing escapes his evil, violet eyes, all your oh so sweet reactions make him even harder. He likes it when they fight back, and he liked it even more when they trying to fight him. Fuck, you really drive him crazy. He strokes your cheek almost in a gentle way, for a small amount of time you thought he is finished, but suddenly you hear a loud noise in his chamber. Your cheek start to glow red, as another pain runs through your body and you almost scream. Aegon seems to be satisfied again.
"Did I give you permission to close your eyes?" His voice sounds angry, a second ago he was completely different and now you wish that he would be happy again. "Open your fucking eyes when I fuck you or do you want me to take them out?" You open immediately your (e/c) eyes as they sparkle with fear. "I-I'm sorry M-mylord...I-it won't happen again" you stutter out. Your voice is music in his ears, your body who is shaking because of him, and your eyes who are filled with great fear.
You are his little whore, no one else will ever dare to touch you. If someone is stupid enough to do that, he would make sure that his head would hang on the wall.
-------
You lie on the far too big bed, crying over and over again. The feeling of dirt and filth running through your whole body, this is a living nightmare. 'I should have preferred torture, at least I would have died with proud' Slowly you get up from the bed, clutching your stomach, you close your eyes as you start to pray again to the gods that you will never get pregnant from him. You glance at yourself in the mirror, only now you notice all the hickeys and bite marks. Your whole body is covered in it. God, why are you so weak? Where was your strength? You were raised by the streets and you saw many horrible things, and still you couldn't do anything about your new situation.
You would loved to cry again, but with all your rest strength you force yourself to not do it again. 'Stay strong...you will survive' you tell yourself as you decide to take a warm bath. Maybe that would at least make you feel a little bit better. After you finished, you look in the closet that Aegon has filled with dresses and jewelry for you. Many beautiful things catching your eyes, expensive things you could have never wear before. But you really didn't feel like wearing anything glamorous right now, after all what happened you think it would be better to not cause any other problems. You hand reaches for a green dress with a simpler dark green pattern. Nevertheless, it is overflowing with golden hem.
With a small sigh, you decide to take a short walk around the castle. You didn't see to much from it the first time. Your (e/c) eyes didn't know where to look first. Everything was beautiful, the decoration, the pictures on the wall, even the ground was different. You slowly start to float in your fantasy when you suddenly bump into someone.
"Watch out" Says a rough voice. You immediately look up as you notice a purple eye. 'Shit.' You hastily bow as you can't get rid of the feeling of being stared at. Someone is staring in your soul. "E-Excuse me, Mylord," your voice shakes again as you take a glance at the ground. The intensity of the gaze puts your body into a trance like state, it is as if you were trapped in a cage, and in front of you is a large lion who is waiting to eat you. Aemond is clearly amused from the woman infornt of her, he likes how much influence he already had over you.
"What's your name?" He asks without any emotion in his voice. You are very suprised that the prince is actually interested in you, but it's not in your power to question this. It would be better if you keep your head low, you already got the King's attention, you don't need the Prince too. The story's about Aemond Targaryen were as cruel as those about his brother. "My name is (Y/n)." A small smile spreads on his face, something in it made you really uncomfortable. The Targaryen looks at you for one last time, as he disappeares. 'Strange....the Targaryens are all fucked up' you think to yourself, today wasn't your day.
-----------
The day passes by, as you continue to wander like a ghost trough the huge castle. Even now you only seen half of it, with a small sigh you go towards you chamber, secretly hoping that Aegon isn't waiting there. 'Be strong...' On the way back you suddenly get a very bad feeling, only now you notice that you being watched. This time you decide to listen to your feelings and so you follow a different direction. You take a deep breath as somebody suddenly grabs your hand, pressing you against a cold stone wall.
"Where do you go at such a late hour? Shouldn't you be back to your chambers where my brother waits?" Aemonds voice sounds almost gentle, but you still can't shake the feeling that he is mocking you. His fingers glide over your red cheeks, you could feel bis warm breath on your necks. Your body starts to tremble, the uncomfortable feeling gets worse and worse. 'I-I'm on my way to h-him...Mylord" you stutter with the last remaining strength, the gods must have a lot of fun watching you suffer, there was no other way to explain why the other Targaryen was interested in you now too. Aegon is already enough but now also Aemond? Was this some kind of game you couldn't understand or just a joke to make your life worse?
The prince's finger slides now towards your lips, his eye sparks with malice. Something about him immediately screams to run, run as fast as you can. But you couldn't, you're trapped and your body won't listen to you anyways. "Is that so? Answer me this whore, are you having fun pleasing my brother?" Now a small smirk forms on his lips. "M-Mylord I-" but before you can continue to speak, the Targaryen presses you even harder against the wall, his lips crashing with yours. You open your (e/c) eyes in shock, everything gets crazier and crazier. You feel his tongue circling in your mouth, he obviously wants to show you how superior he is to you and where your place is. Underneath him.
You thought it would never end, you could already feel how close you are to cry again. That couldn't be true...was this the punishment for robbing other people? Suddenly a loud, angry voice echoes through the corridor, footsteps can be heard and Aemond immediately let you go out of his grip. "Leave her alone. She is mine. I'm warning you Aemond....if you dare to come near her ever again, I will take your second eye." The king's face turns red as his eyes are now on you. Another shiver runs down your spine, as you could tell how upset he is. You never saw him so angry. "And you...did I give you permission to walk around here freely? Do you think you can do whatever you want without any consequences? Do I have to chain you up until you learn who you belong to?"
The tension is sharp, sharp as a blade who cut someone's throat. You don't dare to contradict him, it's not the right time and moment for it. Aemond stares at his brother for a moment, his smirk never leaves his lips. "Really brother? You think this whore deserve your attention? You would give up our family just for her? Why don't you throw her in a cellar where only we have access to. No one would ever know, not our sister, not our mother and no one else in this castle. It's our little secret under brother's and besides I think our little thief needs to be punished for thinking she can just walk around this castle freely.~"
#yandere aegon targaryen ii#yandere aegon#yandere aemond#yandere aemond targaryen#yandere targaryen#yandere x reader#x female reader#yandere#fire and blood#game of thrones#house of the dragon#yandere hotd#yandere asoiaf#yandere fire and blood#asoiaf#fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf x reader#got#aemond targaryen#x reader#xreader#yandere fanfic#yanderehotd#yandere aemond x reader#yandere aegon x reader#yandere aemond x reader x yandere aegon#i tried#hope you like it#chaos
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
The first round of translations are done!
You heard it here, folks. I've successfully finished the entirety of the first video I've sent a few posts back. For the record, I WILL give timestamps to let people jump to what they want to see, don't worry. Every scene has Schezo, and this post will be LONG.
To keep my sanity in check: I'll release this in two parts, because my God this takes a while to type. I'm talking hours. I hope you understand.
Here's how it'll be formatted:
(Character):
(Line 1)
(Line 2)
[Narrator]
(Character 2)
(Line 1)
(Line 2)
Option A
Option B
Option C
----- <- End of Scene
Here's some screenshots of some of the faces. They got a charm to them. Most of them won't be in the first part, but hey, it's still cool.
And here's the video:
youtube
Timestamps:
0:14 (Start of the story, has Schezo and Mysterious Voice (Doppelganger Schezo,)
1:40 (After the Tower, has Schezo and Fufufu.)
3:00 (Schezo reaches the theme park, featuring Arle, Rulue, and Minotauros.)
5:37 (Schezo is terrible at directions and asks for help, featuring Kikimora and a Bulletin Board.)
7:56 (Schezo goes to Walmart, featuring Momomo.)
8:26 (Entrance to the Dungeon: Arle Version)
9:21 (Entrance to the Dungeon: Rulue Version. After that, it's just Schezo saying the default phrase for entering.)
11:30 (Skeleton-T boss encounter. Go to 13:11 for his loss quote.)
13:54 (Tickets? In MY treasure chest?)
I will note if something seems a bit off in brackets, or if there could be an edit or the sort. As well, I'll try to keep it formatted like the text in game.
Now before we begin, I want to say two things. The first is that I'm in NO WAY A JAPANESE SPEAKER. Some things might be wrong, so please correct me if they are. Second, I wish to ask a question to the community. I have more of these, but they're not chronologically ordered.
This won't affect if they're posted or not, just when they're posted.
With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!
Prologue: (0:13)
Schezo:
So this is the Space-Time Crystal...
if I absorb this, I'll grow even stronger...
...It's been a while since I've last seen it. This Crystal distorts space and time.
Every time I stepped outside, the maze changed shape, forcing me to restart over and over again...
A crystal with this much power can be of very good use to me...
[Schezo touches the crystal, and tries to absorb its power. A cutscene occurs, and Schezo stops grabbing the crystal.]
Schezo:
Gwaaaa...What is this power...
Wait...I'm the one...being absorbed!?
Mysterious Voice: (Crystal)
Poor fool...I've become a part of you, and you're now a part of me...
Schezo:
Who is it!? ...Could it be that the crystal is talking!?
Damn, if I stay here...I've got no other choice! (He apparently teleports or runs away.)
Mysterious Voice: (Crystal)
He got away...Hmpf, a smart move.
For a human, he quite evil...Well, if you take this power away, the rest is a bunch of loose ends...
...With this power, it's possible to make a bigger trap. I could make a much larger one...
-----
Finding Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Land: (1:40)
[A while later...]
Damn it, what's happening to me? Oh man...
Ever since that encounter, I haven't been able to do much magic anymore...I have to do something to regain my strength...
[Fufufu enters the scene.]
Fufufu:
Fufufu, you've came.
Schezo:
If you're a merchant...you're also a business man. I'm in a bad mood. Find someone else.
Fufufu:
Fufufu, you see this?
Schezo:
It's just a flyer...Eh? What the-!?
[It show the flyer]
Flyer:
High Tech Theme Park: "Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Land"
The shape of this place changes every time you enter! It's an amazing fighting attraction!
If you clear all the attractions, the "Amazing Magical Item," will be yours! (For the record, they don't really clarify it.)
With this, you too can be a first class mage!
Schezo:
Hey, merchant! Is what said on this flyer true?
Fufufu:
Fufufu, you should definitely go. (Leaves)
Schezo:
...It's just like that tower...It's like the power of that crystal!
Could it be that something similar is there!? I'll have to check it out myself...
[Schezo decides to go the Theme Park mentioned on the flyer.]
-----
Entrance to the park: (3:00)
Schezo:
I'm finally...here at last.
[Schezo got a little lost, but managed to find his way to the theme park.]
Huh? Is that Arle?
[Arle is spacing out at the entrance to the theme park.]
What, you're here too?
(Arle finally comes into view.)
Arle:
Schezo!? You're here alone to play with yourself?
Schezo:
No! Did you hear about the rumors too?
Arle:
Huh? What rumors?
Schezo:
Don't you know what this place is like? If you clesr all the attractions,
You can get a "Amazing Magical Item" or the sort.
Arle:
Heh...Is that so?
Schezo:
Well, I don't have time for idle talk. I'm leaving.
[Schezo leaves Arle and enters the theme park.]
Hm? It's that woman...If I remember, it's that martial artist, Rulue, who's always chasing that Satan around.
Rulue:
...Obtain a magical item...
I'll be the one to get it to match Arle and win over Satan!
(Schezo then entrances the scene)
Schezo:
That's not happening.
Rulue:
Who said that!? ...Oh. You're just the perverted mage.
Schezo:
Who's the pervert!?
Rulue:
What!? No way...
You're after Satan too, aren't you?
Schezo:
Huh? Satan?
Well, I guess you can say that. (I'll take him down eventually!)
Rulue:
As expected...
You're trying to court Satan! That's unforgivable!
Schezo:
What!? No, you stupid bitch! Why would I want to make a move on that bastard!? (Yeah he does this sometimes and it's hilarious.)
Rulue:
Keeeee! What did you say? That's it, we're done!
Minotauros:
You're not gonna make Master Rulue look like a fool. Umoooh! (His battle cry or something, tbh I don't really like Minotauros.)
Schezo:
I can't take such a large swing like that!
...Rulue, I'll tell you this. That magical item is mine,
And I don't plan to give it to a woman who doesn't have a shred of magic!
[Schezo quickly leaves the scene.]
Two troublesome women are here...I'm in trouble...
----
Schezo sucks at directions: (5:37)
Now, where to go...
(He goes to the info board.)
Well, this seems like the place for info. Let's see what we can find.
(Now to tell you guys a bit about some navigation boxes.
You see, they're organized into 4 sections.
Listen (AKA talk to Kikimora.)
Ranking
Bulletin Board
Return
In this case, they click Listen. Please note I'm probably gonna translate the important ones at the moment.)
Schezo: (Again)
Hey, Cleaning staff.
Cleaning Lady: (Kikimora)
Cleaning staff? There's none. Well, I do clean, but...
I'm Kikimora. I'm an usher here.
Schezo:
A usher? Well, if you are one, you're going to have to explain something to me.
Kikimora:
What do you want me to explain?
(These say, in order:
Game Summary (Which the player clicks.)
About items
About shops
About ranking
When in Need (The player clicks later.)
Back)
All of the parks attractions involve the same formula.
You'll be fighting monsters and navigating a maze.
Of course there's all kinds of items and tricks inside also. It's not just fighting monsters.
If you can think carefully and use these items and tricks well, it'll be easier to proceed with your adventure.
If your HP drop to zero, it's a game over, and you lose all the EXP and items you worked so hard to get. (You think Schezo is thinking "The hell is an EXP and a Game Over?")
The first attraction is relatively easy, but each attraction gets harder as you clear them.
So please, do you best.
Schezo:
Alright, got it.
(The textbox opens again, and this time the player clicks "When in Need.")
Kikimora:
This is where we explain things to newcomers.
We also have a bulletin board full of useful and informative information, so please see e check it frequently.
You can also see your rank score, so try to aim for #1!
If you do get a high score, you could get a wonderful prize.
Schezo:
How many points do I need for the prize?
Kikimora:
Actually, I don't know myself.
Schezo:
You're a useless usher. You should know that.
Kiki:
Sorry. (I'm sorry...)
Schezo:
No no no, I'm not judging you.
I was just speaking to myself. Dont worry about it, okay?
Kikimora:
Yes, Sir. (... ...)
Schezo
(Wait, why am I apologizing?)
(The player then goes to the bulletin board.)
Oh, a Bulletin Board. I'll check it out.
(A text box appears saying "Welcome to Puyo Puyo Dungeon.")
Bulletin board:
If you're entering an attraction, try the Puyo Dungeon first!
An exciting adventure awaits you!
-----
Schezo goes to Walmart: (7:56)
Schezo:
So this is a store...
Momomo:
Momomo, welcome to the shop!
Schezo:
Oh! There's the shopkeeper.
Momomo:
There's a lot of danger in the attractions.
You'll be safer if you bought items, so buy a lot.
Schezo:
...What a talkative clerk.
(Text box appears, showing either:
Buy
Sell
Leave <- )
Momomo:
Hope to see you again.
Entrance to the Dungeon: Arle Version. (8:26)
Schezo:
Arle's here... hey, Arle.
Arle:
Hey, why did you come here?
Schezo:
Err, that's none of your business.
Arle:
Aha! Are you here to pick up women?
Schezo:
Huh?
Arle:
I thought you came to chase after girls, like you like usual.
Schezo:
No, of course not!
And what do you mean by "Like Usual?"
Arle:
Because you're always chasing girls saying "I want you!"
Schezo:
I...don't do anything of of the sort!
Arle:
There you go again...well, you are a guy, so...
Schezo:
You know what!? I'm done...
Talking to her drives me nuts...among other things.
-----
Entrance to the Dungeon: Rulue Version: (9:21)
Schezo:
Ah, not this meat muscle woman!
Rulue:
What did you say!? Are you trying to pick a fight?
Schezo:
Hmpf. That's what you get for calling me a pervert earlier.
Rulue:
You pervert, you nonsensical pervert! What's wrong with calling you that?
Schezo:
You're such a child! Don't spout these ridiculous things!
Minotauros:
Umoooo! Don't make fun of Master Rulue!
Schezo:
Cows stay out of this!
Minotauros:
Umoooo! (God I hate typing that.) Master Rulue, can I fuck this guy up?
Rulue:
Do as you please.
Schezo:
I don't have time to be playing games with you guys in a place like this!
Rulue:
Oh? Are you running away?
Schezo:
(Damn that scruffy look on her face. Someday I'll make her into a crying bitch.
Even so, we're still a little behind Rulue and the others...
I can't afford to waste my time here...Sorry, but I can't just stand here!)
After this he just says a generic quote of "Let's go inside the Dungeon!"
-----
Skeleton T boss encounter: (10:17)
Skeleton-T:
Hello? Are you a visitor?
Schezo:
Hm? What are you- What're you doing here?
Skeleton-T:
Hmm~ This tea is really good. Would you like a cup?
(The player says no)
What? You won't drink my tea!?
I can't forgive someone who takes advantage of another's good will!
Schezo:
Well...That's an interesting accusation. Alright, I'll play along.
Skeleton-T:
Ocha-cha-cha-cha! Let's go!
---
Beating Skeleton-T: 13:11
Skeleton-T:
Happaaa... (I used his loss quote from Puyo 7.)
Schezo:
Ha! You were no match for me!
----- (Yep. That's it.)
Tickets? In MY Theme Park? (13:54)
What's this...? ...They're tickets!
(Schezo gets tickets to Fire Mountain, Water Paradise, and the Starlight Stage.)
Here we go. Now we can enter more attractions.
(Then he asks if you want to leave the Dungeon.)
-----
And that's Part 1! Part 2 will release later, just give me time to type it all out.
Hope you enjoyed.
#Youtube#japanese translation#madou monogatari#waku waku puyo puyo dungeon#schezo puyo puyo#rulue puyo puyo#arle puyo puyo#schezo wegey#doppelganger schezo#this took forever to write and my hands hurt a bit from it#part 1#kikimora puyo puyo#arle nadja#the fact that schezo is somewhat acting like the dude from my tumblr banner is both funny and unnerving
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 1 - Genesis - The Myth of Creation
At the beginning there was nothing. Nothing but an all-mighty, omniscient, and omnipresent deity whose name was forbidden to pronounce and who everyone will refer to as simply God. In an act of absolute loneliness and boredom, God decided to give birth to the universe as we know it. Despite his unlimited power, though, it took him seven days to complete a task that others carried out in mere seconds.
On the first day God said “Let there be light.” And light there was, bursting out from darkness. Once he completed his duty, God fell into a one night slumber. These will be known as the four most tiring words ever pronounced. On the second day God divided the waters above from the waters below, and on the third day the sea from the land. On the fourth day God filled the darkness and the light with the Sun, the Moon and the stars; on the fifth day God populated seas and skies with fish and fowl; and finally, on the sixth day living creatures started roaming the lands too. Among these, the Lord noticed that none was intelligent enough to celebrate and laud him for creating such a beautiful world. With this in mind, God took two blocks of clay and shaped them in his own image. They stood tall on their lower limbs; they had two hands with opposing thumbs to create divine art and offerings for their Deity; and they were given a voice to praise and chant hymns to their loving Creator. God made two of them: male and female, different yet complementary, so they were forced to think they could not survive without each other. Being special among all creatures, God allowed them to inhabit a sacred place called Garden of Eden, a locus amoenus above the lands yet below the heavens, where ambrosia and wine flowed like rivers, where food never lacked and where evil was yet to be known. There they could live without fearing the threat of Death.
The seventh day, exhaustion took over the poor, hard-working deity and rest was undoubtedly needed, but before leaving his two new favorite creatures, he handed them a very simple set of rules: "Praise me. When you're finished, praise me again. Never pronounce my true name. Reproduce, so that there will be more of you to praise me. Thank me for the ravishing cradle you were given permission to lay your bodies on. Then, of course, praise me again for I am your God. Oh, and you are forbidden from eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil." That being said, the Lord retired to his sacred realm, leaving the recently-born humans free to explore their new home.
The two explored the garden seeking every ounce of beauty that magical place had to offer. In the end, they only had one last thing to explore: their bodies and their sexual needs. Unfortunately, they quickly encountered a dead end. Adam said:
-You now… I have this… thing between… my legs and…you know… I think it's pretty much CLEAR that I shall be the one on top.
Hearing these words,Lilith was left with pure disgust on here face:
-You're telling me that you TRULY believe that one minor incongruence in our genitals is what makes you superior to me? Oh, you are playing a war of comparing parts of our bodies? Fine. Look at this - said she, showing him her breast - I have two huge, beautiful, immaculate tits and the little worm between your legs that you dare call a penis is much more a sign of your weakness than your strength. So if you think that I'm gonna be bottom with these two statements right here, go ask your daddy for a sex doll.
-But I am the man and as such I have all rights to be on top and your task is to just let me please you and make me feel important and useful.
At that point some may say, with aulic words, that she "had enough of that bullshit", and in a burst of rage she turned to the sky and screamed the forbidden name of God.
Silence. The wind stopped blowing. The rivers stopped gargling. The birds stopped singing. The entire Eden was scarily spectating the scene, ignorant and fearful of what would have happened after that. Everything was still silent. The ground started faintly shaking when the least expected thing happened. The blasphemous woman, feeling like shackles had dropped from her wrists and ankles, grew a pair of bat-like wings and escaped the Garden of Eden never to be seen again.
The man was flabbergasted. Never had he imagined that the small desire to get laid could escalate into something so tragic. And now his one and only companion was gone, leaving a void in his heart and a load in his balls. The young chap could never accept to be left alone. He was a man, he was meant to be the “alpha”, but he couldn’t be an “alpha” without someone to be the “beta”. With a purpose in his mind, he summoned his sleeping Lord, praying to him to once again replicate the miracle of creation.
-My Lord, All-Mighty God Creator of All, the woman you created alongside me, and who you created to be my loyal servant, has committed blasphemy and left the perfect cradle You gifted us. I beg of you: please, create for me another companion, who will fill the hole she left in my heart and take care of the load she left in my balls.
God was not happy of being disturbed while slumbering after accomplishing the humongous task of Creation, and with a fearsome voice said: - Young man, you haven’t been able to take care and nourish the relationship between the only two individuals of your species and, to be completely honest, it is all your fault. All that “alpha male” bullshit is your invention, don’t put words in my mouth. I truly believe you deserve to die alone after this. That being said, I don’t feel praised enough and you need someone to procreate more humans that can actually praise me instead of whining and complaining like a little bitch when they are too stupid to get laid.
A large smile appeared on the man’s face: after all the bad words, God decided to grant him the wish. It would not be that easy, though. In fact, the price to pay for a loyal and submissive woman was one of the man’s ribs. With the violence that only fathers can use against their children, God ripped a rib out of the man’s chest and created a whole human being from it. The man made from soil knew the pain was absolutely worth the end result.
-There you go, she will be the new mother of all humans. And remember: this is your last chance so I swear on me, if you fuck this up and disturb my slumber once more I will kick you two out of here and I will give dogs the ability to speak.
Only a few days went by since the creation of the second woman and the man was starting to believe that nothing could ever ruin his happiness. But little did he know, tranquility was still far from his grasp.
In a land far from Eden… The first woman, after flying for days, brutally landed on uncharted land, far from God’s dominion. There she reached the ground, almost fainting from tiredness when a menacing but gentle figure approached her.
-Pour young creature. So weak yet so brave. I admire you: you had the courage to defy his law and you left the safest garden in the universe to find a place where you can really be happy. - The figure knelt down and grabbed the woman, hugging her and gently stroking her hair - Poor soul, he didn’t even give you a name, did he? Well, let’s make up for this. You know, they will write in their books that you are a traitor, that you chose evil and allied with the devil. They will call you names like monster, demon, lilith… Wait, this one will do! From now on your name will be Lilith, and I will take care of you.
Who is the being that Lilith met? Will the paths of the only three humans ever cross again? This time you will not find the answer in the Bible, but I will soon give you one.
1 note
·
View note
Text
if fate permits
⤷ chapter twenty four: just one last time
prev < masterlist > next
Was I such an evil person in my past life to deserve this agony?
The damned question circles your mind over and over again as you walk mindlessly, vision blurry due to the tears that were continuously welling up your eyes. You've always thought watching him fall in love with someone else was already painful enough, but even that couldn't prepare you for the wrenching feeling that your heart felt when you cut the thread, forced to cut him out of your life, figuratively and literally speaking. Now that you're experiencing it yourself, you think that's the reason why people like you were forced to forget— the feeling of your heart endlessly falling to the dark abyss was not something anyone could live with for the rest of their lives, wondering what was so wrong with you that he couldn't bring himself to love you even with a thread physically connecting the two of you.
Stupid gods, they can't even do one thing right. His words echo and you choke out what seems like a pathetic attempt for a laugh, lips wobbling as you cry, "I know right, Tsum. They're so stupid."
Soulmates are so stupid. Your eyes linger on your thread, barely red as it began to become duller each hour that passed and had uneven ends due to the cutting that happened just a while ago. The red string, once bright and glowing in color, that kept you close to Atsumu for so many years, gone in just a few seconds and it felt so unfair, so cruel. Because how could someone decide your fate just like that?
You just have to get through it tonight, YN. Tomorrow, when you wake up, you won't even know that kind of heartbreak. Tomorrow, you repeat to yourself, trying to lessen the gut wrenching feeling swimming inside you; keyword, tried. Still, it doesn't stop the liquids that gather in your eyes and the hiccups that escape your mouth. Because you just loved him so goddamn much that you were willing to give up everything of you just for him, just for his happiness... and yet, he couldn't do it for you, not even one bit of him. And with that, you find yourself drowning in self-pity— no matter how much you sacrificed, no matter how long you put him first, it all still ended with you cutting the thread, the thing you treasured the most. It just wasn't meant to be.
The ringing of your phone resonates through the quiet and unknown park you had stopped by, the picture of your brother popping up on the screen.
"YN. Where in the hell are you? It's already late! Your flight's tomorrow night. Mom's close to losing the last bits of her mind. Tell me whe—"
"'Yoomi," you sob like a child, the minimal strength that kept you standing up finally giving in to your overwhelming emotions as your legs gave out as well, falling on your butt as you clutched your chest in pain, "'Yoomi."
You tried to get words out but your heavy cries stopped you from doing so, only being able to speak out his name.
"YN? What happened? Hey... take a deep breath and tell me where you are, I'll come get you myself and then we can talk about it, yeah?"
The usual monotonous voice he spoke vanished into thin air and was replaced with one that were filled with worry and concern. From the background, you can hear him telling your parents to just stay still, despite their sound of disapprovals, accompanied by the jiggling of keys which you figure were for the car, "YN, tell me where you are. Please."
"I... I..." you hiccup, looking around you for any prominent signs or landmarks, "I'm in a random park and t-there's a convenience store across. The one that we first went to when we moved to Tokyo."
"Okay. Just stay right there. I'm coming."
Kiyoomi takes a deep breath, lightly knocking on your bedroom door, sighing in relief when you responded with a quiet 'come in,' voice muffled. It has been past an hour since you arrived home, your parents opting to leave you alone as soon as they saw your swollen eyes; although, your brother couldn't obviously just sit still and look pretty, not when you're feeling like this when you're leaving tomorrow. He pushes the door open, wincing at the mess that welcomed him— some of your clothes were still not packed, luggages were lying down on the floor and there you were, on the bed, face down and shoved to the pillow.
"Did a storm pass by?" He asks, trying to at least lighten the mood, sitting at the foot of the bed and beginning to fix your things for you. He knew better than to pry, especially when he already had a guess on who brought you in such a devastated state. Instead of replying, you hold your hand up, he can see it for himself anyway.
His usually-calm demeanor breaks as he saw your thread, now in a dark maroon color. He stood up so quick that he felt lightheaded, "YN!"
Your head turns to him, eyes watering once more as you sob, "'Yoomi... I feel dead. Like my heart was forcefully ripped out of my chest. I... I don't know what to do... I can't take this."
He approaches you, engulfing your form in a hug, whispering his comforts as he speaks a gazillion of curses to Atsumu in his mind. He swears he might just punch the blonde to death as soon as he sees him, "You'll be okay. We're here. You're gonna be fine."
"I... I don't want to forget him... Please don't take him away from me... I love him," you cry out to the gods above, praying so desperately even if you knew it was impossible. You were no one special, who were you to be graced with such a miracle? And yet here you were, weeping the same prayers over and over again, knowing deep inside that no matter how much you beg, even if you were already on your knees, tomorrow would still come— the tomorrow that has no Miya Atsumu in it.
At that moment, you wished you hadn't just befriended him, you wished you just left him alone when he was playing with your brother; because nothing could compare to the pain of losing all of him— your soulmate, your beloved, your best friend— in just a matter of seconds.
Kiyoomi finishes packing for you by the time you calmed down a bit and leaves you alone, speaking about you should rest for your flight. As if you could do that... the moment you close your eyes, it's really over because the next time you open them, it's going to be a new YN. Gone will be you who knew each and every part of him, replaced with someone who won't even be able to recognize him...
Yet despite your heart's refusal towards the truth, your mind contradicts it and thinks back to his previous words, "...it has been too long of waiting..."
With that, your resolve crumbles into pieces and you find your eyes fluttering close. Somehow, you give out a small and sad smile, heart aching because of him... just one last time.
I'm sorry for not keeping my promise, Atsumu.
note. no words just... tears up because the next one might just be sadder than this
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu smau#atsumu x reader#iwaizumi x reader#atsumu headcanons#iwaizumi headcanons#atsumu smau#iwaizumi smau#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fics#haikyuu writings#miya atsumu#iwaizumi hajime
334 notes
·
View notes
Text
La vie en rose pt.1
Pietro Maximoff x reader
Requested by anon “I think this is a good idea. So Pietro didn’t die in Age Of Ultron but dies in endgame so afterwards reader has same powers as wanda btw makes her own reality sorta like wandavision and they live in the town together and it’s basically just wandavision plot and jimmy woo and darcy are trying to get in meanwhile. I really hope this isn’t to long for you! Maybe you could do 2 parts if you’d like that? I just had this idea for a while thanks! 🤍”
Warning- ANGST, fluff, slight swearing, mentions of death and complete heartbreak
———-
“NO!”
Was it possible to feel your heartbreak, to hear the pain and agony in your ears?
One moment there was hope—hope that everything was going to be fine, that all your dreams and plans that you had made with the Pietro; the man you loved, the love of your life, was going to come true. But now there was nothing but despair as you saw his life hang by a thin line, tangled in the hand of Thanos.
“Let him go!” You growl, lifting your hands and seeing yellow hues emit from your palms as you don’t hesitate to use your powers. You dig your heels into the dirt ground and bend your wrist back to build up an energy ball and then throw it at Thanos gauntlet in a powerful stream. “Let him go!” You repeat.
Thanos gaze snaps to his gauntlet as he notices the powerful yellow hues hitting the stones, before tilting his head to look at you in stunned disbelief as he sees your eyes beginning to glow yellow as you use your other hand to shoot out more power at the stones without as much as breaking a sweat.
“I said let him go!” You bellow as you feel yourself add more strength to your attempts, seeing the yellow hues get brighter and stronger. You drift your gaze to Pietro and offer him an assuring hopeful look that he mirrors as Thanos grip around his throat falters and finally let’s him go.
Pietro at the opportunity gasps for air but doesn’t take his time to get completely better, instead he runs to you and attempts to rush you out of there, but you decline his attempts. “No, I can destroy the stones, help your sister.”
Pietro shakes his head and grabs your wrists, “I’m not leaving without you and I’m not letting this monster kill you.”
A small smile spreads on your lips and just as you’re going to respond, you feel yourself slide back as Thanos begins to use the stones against you, adding a powerful force field that blocks your actions. You snap your attention back to him and push back stronger, feeling your eyebrows pinch together and your face twist into a focused and irritated expression. It was beginning to get harder, but you pushed through and broke the force field, once again hitting the stones. Albeit Thanos didn’t like the idea and matched your attempts, aiming for your body to weaken you instead.
Pietro noticed and sped his way to stop him, in that moment in a blink of an eye missing Thanos use a stone to stop him, once again grabbing him by his throat, but this time instead effortlessly snapping his neck and looking at you with an evil smirk, knowing that what he did would stop your attempts instantly.
And it did, you stopped using your powers and ran towards Pietro's lifeless body as Thanos drops him and finds his chance to leave.
“Pietro!” You cry, dropping beside him and cradling his body, seeing his blue eyes unmoving. “Pietro?” You whimper, feeling hot tears stream down your face and an inkling of hope in your heart. But it was faint and just made up of denial.
“Pietro! Please!” You cry, brushing his hair out of his eyes and lifting him closer to you. Nothing else mattered around you, not the fight that was being fought around you, all that mattered was seeing him give any sign of life. “Pietro?”
But him giving any sign of life...was impossible.
“NO!”
——
*SOME TIME LATER*
“Pietro?” You call out, feeling your smile begin to fall as you don’t hear him respond, or see him anywhere around. “Pietro? Where are you?” Your heart begins to pick up its pace and you pick up your pace as you search the house. “Pietro?”
You stop at the center of the living room and let out a deep exhale to think clearly, to check over your surroundings, to feel him—
“Y/N.”
At the sound of Pietro's voice by your ear you jump and let out a small gasp before spinning around as you grab your chest. “Pietro, what the hell?”
Said man snickers and steps back, keeping his hands hidden behind his back. “You called.”
“Yeah,” you sigh with relief, “you weren’t around, I was beginning to worry.”
“Oh, well, there's a good explanation for that,” Pietro says as he begins to approach you with a mischievous grin on his lips, “I went to get you something.”
“Oh?” You quiered, lifting a brow and placing your hands on your hips as your eyes drop to his hidden hands. “You got me something, or did you “take something without buying?”
Pietro shrugs and begins to walk around you slowly, making sure to keep facing you. “It’s just a friendly contribution for saving the world. It’s well deserved.”
You chuckle and turn with him to keep your eyes on him. “What did you get me?”
“Close your eyes.” He commands.
You do so without hesitation and feel the warmth of Pietros hand wrap yours to pull them from your sides and keep them out in front of you. Anticipation begins to brew at the pit of your stomach at not knowing what it was, you feel yourself smile nervously wanting to take a peek, but before you could try he places something silky and long on your hands and speaks up. “Open them.”
Doing so, you instantly look down and see a pretty white silk dress; your mouth falls open in awe and you carefully grab the sleeves of the dress to lift it and get a full view of the dress. “Pietro this is beautiful.”
“It’s for our date,” he reveals softly. “Do you need help putting it on?”
You flicker your gaze up to him and grin brightly.
“I’ll go slow,” he quips softly with a smirk, “I know you like it when I go slow.”
You cup his cheek and shake your head. “How about I surprise you?”
“Fine,” he sighs in defeat. “Until then I’ll get everything ready.”
You part away and do you as you had told him, taking some time to get ready even if you could do it within seconds with your powers.
And at first, after you had finished getting ready, you were nervous to go downstairs and reunite with him—he still just had that effect on you. But as you thought of it, as you thought clearly, there was nothing to be nervous about, this was Pietro, the same man you were cellmates with while in hydra, the same man you fought by in Sokovia and Berlin, he was the same man you went in hiding with, and the same man you fell in love with. He was your Pietro. So you confidently walked to the top stairs, grabbed onto the railing and saw Pietro speed to the end of the stairs to wait for you to walk down.
He had on a nice suit and had a bouquet of roses in his hand that didn’t outshine the charming grin on his face—in the furthest corner of your mind, you knew this was wrong, but seeing this, seeing him do things like this made you happy and reminded you of him, you couldn’t let go of him yet. Not yet.
You grin brightly and feel your heart flutter. “Pietro.”
“My love.” He muttered softly.
You continue to walk down the stairs to meet him below, grabbing his hand as he offered it to you, while with his the other hand he handed you the bouquet of white roses.
“You look absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered in your ear after he had leaned in.
You grab onto his hand tighter and smile wider, “you do too.” Your eyes drift to the living room where the couch’s and the tv were replaced by a fancy candlelight dinner setup, causing you to gasp softly and take a moment to take in what he had set up. “Wow, Pietro,” you look back at him to complement his work, but it’s at that moment you look at him that you see his face as it was when he died; pale and lifeless. You tear your gaze away and cover your mouth out of the shock and fear.
Pietro notices and of course questions it. “Y/N, are you okay? Did you not like something?”
You swallow thickly and shake your head, peeking at him and noticing he was back to normal. “No, no, I loved it. I do.”
Pietro sighs, “good it took me long to plan.”
“I love it.” You repeat as you fully turn your head to look at him. “Thank you.”
Pietro stops by the table and you set down the roses, admiring the table he had set up and feeling the corner of your lips slowly tug back into a smile. “Pietro—”
“My love would you have this dance with me?”
You turn around and see him with his hand out towards you, he smiles and then you feel a breeze as he goes to quickly turn on the music that was meant to be on before.
“Now will you have this dance with me?” He asks again more confidently. “Is that how I’m supposed to ask?”
You nod, “yes you are and yes I will have this dance with you.” You take his hand and he pulls you to the middle of the room, not taking long to grab onto your waist and pull you close to him.
“I put on those old songs you like to hear.” He points out as the tune slowly plays.
“I like?” You queried, “or you like?”
“Both. We both like them.”
You express a lighthearted huff of air and begin to move with him as you both begin to sway to the music. The talking stops and the song only sounds around the house, you press yourself closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder whilst you grabbed onto him tighter out of fear he’d disappear. You inhale in deeply to take in that smell of the fancy cologne he loved to wear, to take in the smell of his shampoo he used, to remember what it felt when you smelt it when he was really alive.
“I miss you,” you sigh out with tears stinging your eyes.
“Miss me?” Pietro scoffs in a joking tone, “I’m right here.”
You swear under your breath at your accidental comment, lifting your head and parting away far enough to look into his blue eyes. “I know, I just meant like miss you when you’re gone.”
Pietro narrows his gaze on you but he doesn’t find your comment strange, (you didn’t let him find it strange) instead he makes it out as a joke and laughs. “Well you know I always come back to you as fast as I can.”
“Yeah, I know,” you whisper with a crack in your voice. “I love you, Pietro, so much. I love you.”
“You’re making me blush,” he responds smugly, cupping your cheeks and offering you a sweet smile, “I love you.”
Tears roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but not to cry at the words he uttered. And when he noticed your tears, he smiled brighter and wiped them off. “Don’t cry, I’m right here, it’s okay, I’m right here. I’ll always be by your side so you don’t have to miss me too much. Even if I do love that sentiment.”
Your bottom lip trembles, but to stop yourself from crying you pull him in for a passionate kiss, cupping his cheeks and feeling him smile under the kiss. He grips onto you tighter and deepens the kiss, stopping the both of you from dancing to focus on the kiss. Reminding you by every passing second that you never wanted this to end….
And yet an urgent knock on the door stopped the moment. Pietro parted away and rolled his eyes, focusing on the door and scoffing. “Who could it be?”
You shrug, feeling just as clueless as him, “I don’t know, let’s go check.”
“Is it Wanda? If it is, tell my sweet sister that she chose the most terrible time to come visit.” Pietro remarks as he stays in the living room as you go to open the door; seeing not Wanda, nor Vision, but two strangers that seemed just as surprised as you, or even more so.
“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Oh, wow,” a woman with glasses gasps as she studies you, “you look amazing. Damn it I missed this scene.”
You blink and laugh nervously, “what? What do you mean?”
“Y/N, who is it?” Pietro asks out loud.
“Just solicitors, please go get Wanda, Pietro.”
Without question he does as you say and the man and woman in front of you grow pale and shake their head.
“Who are you?” You repeat in a more threatening voice.
The man steps forward and you move to block his path.
“I’m Agent Woo and this Doctor Darcy,” he reveals, making you freeze.
“What?”
#marvel#avengers#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff imagine#Pietro maximoff imagines#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff x y/n#pietro maximoff fanfiction#marvel imagines#marvel imagine#avengers imagine#marvel infinity war#avengers imagines#maximoff twins#jimmy woo#darcy lewis#wandavision
393 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wicked Rose
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Rosa Malvada (OFC)
Summary: Geralt is sent on a mission that sends him to the doorstep of vampire Rosa Malvada. Steamy smut insues.
Warning(s): dirty talk, biting kink, SMUT, blood, both characters are very dominant
Word Count: 3092
There were countless reasons to enjoy an immortal life. The power was intoxicating--there was no greater feeling than knowing you were the greatest threat in any given room. The access to knowledge that stretched across every part of the realm, the secrets that stayed trapped within country borders--all of it there for you to revel in. But the greatest thing of all, the thing that brought satisfaction even in the darkest of nights, was being the kind of monster everyone believed vampires to be.
A regular vampire proved to be a challenging opponent, even for a skilled warrior. The Higher Vampires were impossible to kill. With their wit and strength, they ran circles around mortal men. Not even the legendary witchers could end them; only a Higher Vampire could kill one of his brethren, which had only happened twice in all of history. And Rosa Malvada, Princess of the Higher Vampires, was the most feared and powerful of her entire clan.
Geralt of Rivia, the most famous witcher along the west coast, had been stalking her for three days now. He’d been careful, calculating every movement before he made it. It was cute, actually, how much effort he put into being stealthy. Little did he know Rosa had noted his presence within the first twenty minutes of his days-long hunt. She’d considered draining the blood from his body and burying him in some forgotten part of the woods. Who was he to think that a centuries-old Higher Vampire--a princess of their clan--wouldn’t note his presence? How dare he think she would fall into his trap! But she’d been curious. She’d never seen a witcher hunt, and it had been appealing enough that she’d played the part of a happily oblivious vampire, letting him follow her from town to town, never letting him realize that she was drawing him ever closer to her nest.
The night of the full moon, Geralt had decided to make his attack. He’d been smart enough to drink one of those witcher elixirs he kept on his body--a wise precaution she had to give him credit for. But even that magical potion couldn’t take her down. Not before she found out why he’d been hunting her. Not before she’d have her way with him.
His boots were near-silent as he strode through the abandoned halls of an ancient castle along the coast of Temeria. It had been Rosa’s home since an ancient royal family had decided to abandon it due to the rumors of an evil vampire lurking in the halls at night--a rumor that had proved true, since Rosa had been sloppy enough to leave behind a mess of the guards’ bodies she’d drunk from. The family had been so scared they left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The belongings they’d left behind were now part of Rosa’s trove.
Geralt pulled out two swords from his back, careful to make his movements as silent as possible. His ears perked up at every breath of the wind. That witcher elixir had heightened his senses, Rosa realized, and if she wasn’t careful, her game of cat and mouse would come to an end much too soon. She watched from the shadows as he stopped at the end of a hallway. He looked like a mountain in all that black armor--a mountain she wanted to climb. The sight of him was distracting--
Until he cocked his head, a predator finally spotting his prey.
“The shadows won’t hide you from me.” He spoke in a whisper, but Rosa heard him perfectly, as if he’d whispered the words in her ear. Rosa stood in a corner of darkness, and with thirty feet of distance between them, she thought it would have been harder for him to spot her. She was impressed.
“What makes you think I’m hiding?” she purred in response, moving through the shadows so he could catch a glimpse of her blood-red eyes.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he admitted as he turned to face her. That perfect face was paler than usual, enough so the veins under the surface of his skin were visible. And those eyes--darker than the shadows that now cloaked Rosa. He was the pure embodiment of death.
Rosa had never wanted a man more.
“Then what are you doing here?” She forced her tone to remain clipped, despite the desire starting to pool between her thighs.
“A descendant of the family who once lived here,” he began. “He’s paid me to return a lost family crest to him.”
Over her dead body. “Everything within these walls belongs to me. If they wanted some family crest, their ancestors should have brought it with them before they fled this place.”
“I’ve been paid to finish the job,” he insisted.
“Whatever amount they’ve promised you, I’ll double it.” She had more than enough gold to spare. Make enough calculated kills, drink from the right kind of people, and inheriting chests of gold becomes as easy as breathing.
“Come out of the dark. Maybe I’ll consider your offer.”
“Drop those blades,” she compromised, “and I’ll go anywhere you want, Witcher.”
Metal clinked against stone, a riotous sound amongst the silence of the dead castle. Geralt’s hands went slack at his sides. It was a mirage. An act of relaxed calm hiding a hunter about to pounce.
Rosa was precise with her movements, careful to never move within his reach even as she evaded the cover of darkness. His eyes slid along her body so sensually that her body burned everywhere he looked. It was almost enough to get her to step towards him. Almost. She lifted her chin higher, confident in the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts that he now took in. Blood-red hair curled down her back, stark against the white dress she wore.
He sniffed audibly before muttering, “I didn’t know vampires could be aroused by anything other than blood.”
He could smell the lust dripping between her thighs. It only made her want him more, somehow.
She retorted, “I didn’t realize witchers could be so attractive.”
Silence filled the air as they stared at each other, both resisting the urge to close the distance between them and take what they both were craving.
“Afraid to want a monster, Witcher?” she taunted.
A warning growl was the only response he gave.
“I’ll pay you to leave empty-handed tonight, to return to the man who paid you and insist that this precious family crest no longer exists.” She took half a step towards him--the only amount of distance she dared to close between them. “I’ll pay you in gold. Or, if there’s another form of payment you’d prefer, I’d happily let you indulge in that too.” The smile that tugged at her lips was flirtatious. It only grew as Geralt’s gaze dropped to her mouth, those darkened pupils missing nothing.
He was silent. A man of few words. That was fine--Rosa would be sure to fill the silence as he filled her tonight.
She spread her arms. An open invitation. All he had to do was take it. “Come on, Geralt. Take what we both want.”
Still, he hesitated.
“Would you prefer it if I beg?” she wondered.
He pounced. Half a second passed before he had her pressed against the wall, her back pressed tightly against his chest. She ground her ass into his hard-on. Oh, fuck. The stories of a witcher’s girth weren’t just stories. One of his hands moved to her hip, grinding her body against his erection, while the other tugged hard enough on her hair to force her to look up and back at him.
“I’d like to hear you beg,” he growled.
Yeah, right. She dug her elbow into his stomach hard enough to make his grip loosen on her. A second later he was the one trapped against the wall. She held onto his wrists with a grip so tight not even a witcher’s strength could get him out.
“Sorry, darling, but I don’t beg for anyone.”
Before he could say anything, she licked up the column of his throat. His witcher heart was slow, but his pulse still made her toes curl. She longed to know what he tasted like, longed to know if he tasted better than he would feel when he was balls-deep inside of her.
The sensation of her tongue on his skin made a low growl elicit from the back of his throat, a sound so intoxicating that Rosa did, for a moment, contemplate begging him to fuck her if she had to. She needed this man inside of her, needed him to mark her up and fuck her so well she couldn’t walk right for a day afterwards.
“You don’t beg?” Geralt's voice was a low timber in her ear, making her shiver with arousal. And then his hand was around her throat while the other one went to the sensitive mound between her legs. “Then you’ve never had a Witcher fuck you.”
A moan fell from her lips before she could stop it. Her body was pure reaction now; there was no more room for her pride to decide what she would do. She was merely a reaction to every move Geralt made. She was at his mercy.
In one flash of movement Geralt picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her off through the castle like game he’d just proudly hunted down. He stopped at what was once the duke’s quarters, but had been Rosa’s quarters for centuries now. The room was filled with piles of clothes, books, and gold. Crimson sheets were thrown about the bed on the far wall, which was where Geralt strode for now. He was gentle as he set her down but the look in his eyes was wild and ravenous. She had no doubt her eyes held the same kind of animalistic hunger.
“Ever fucked a vampire before?” she questioned as she sat up and started untying his breeches.
“No,” was his simple reply, his voice a deep, rumbling baritone that made Rosa’s stomach knot with need.
She pulled down his breeches enough for his cock to spring free and--wow. Whether it was the Witcher mutation or Geralt had been blessed by the gods themselves, Rosa didn’t particularly care. Not as her mouth literally watered at the site of his thick, long cock, already glistening with precum. Dark curls swirled around the base of his shaft. A thin vein ran along the length of his cock from base to tip and she practically moaned. She wrapped her hand around his length, softly caressing the velvet of his sensitive skin as she began to jerk him off. He growled in approval. It wasn’t long before her skilled hand had him bucking his hips, desperate for her to increase her pace so he could cum. But she continued her slow assault on his throbbing cock, enamored by the look on his face as she teased him. Precum continued to fall from his tip. It mixed with her hand to make a sinful squelching noise. That, along with Geralt’s grunts and growls, was the only sound in the room.
Rosa finally pulled her hand away when she decided she’d tortured the Witcher long enough. His eyes were lidded, heavy with lust, but they widened with arousal as he watched her lick up every last drop of the precum on her hand. With a growl that promised her unbecoming, he splayed a large hand on her stomach and pushed her back. He climbed over her as she relaxed against the bed. His right leg instantly moved between her own, his knee finding a home against her aching pussy.
“My turn,” he growled before moving to hover over her heat.
“Wait,” she called out, her body already humming with intense heat. “You really want to get me off?”
The look in his golden eyes was answer enough.
“Then let me drink from you.” Her voice was breathy, too overcome with lust to sound normal anymore.
He paused, and that lust in his eyes was replaced by a look of distrust.
“I won’t drink too much,” she promised. “But for a vampire, drinking a partner’s blood while being intimate with them is better than anything else. It’ll make me cum long before eating me out will.”
“Which vein is best?” Geralt asked in a low, curious voice, but there was still hesitancy written all over his face.
“The closer to the heart, the better,” she admitted. “Anywhere would do, but blood from the heart, or anywhere around it…” She closed her eyes as she thought about the intoxicating taste of blood straight from the heart. It had been a long time since she’d let herself indulge in it, since tasting blood that sweet normally sent vampires into a frenzy. But the memory of that nectar on her lips made her legs clench, it was that good.
“You stop when I tell you to,” Geralt demanded. His tone was stern, but he was giving in. Indulging her.
Her heart began to beat faster at the thought of drinking from him. “And if I don’t?” Rosa wondered, opening her eyes to look at him again.
The answer to her question was written in his eyes. If she didn’t stop, if she gave in to the monster inside of her, he’d kill her.
“As you wish,” she complied.
He reached a hand towards her. For a second she thought he was reaching for her neck, wanting to pull her towards him for a kiss, but his hand stopped between her breasts, at the dress still covering them. A second later and the dress was torn to shreds, her breasts falling free. Her nipples were already hard from arousal and a low sound of approval fell from Geralt as he observed it. His eyes scanned the rest of her body with hunger.
“Your turn,” she demanded, longing to see his body in all of its naked, muscled glory.
He rose to his feet and began undressing, teasing her as he moved slowly. All she had to do was spread her legs and one look at the sight of her glistening folds made him rush his movements. His body was a glorious maze of muscles and scars--a picture perfect warrior. Dark curls that matched the hair around his cock swirled around his chest and trailed a path down his stomach. An ancient kind of power and strength radiated off of him. Gods, did she want this man inside of her.
Geralt gave her only a few seconds to take in his naked form before he was on top of her, his mouth devouring hers. His tongue was hungry and demanding as it pushed past her lips and collided with her own. She moaned into his mouth as he ground her hips against hers, his cock rubbing against her clit and sending electricity through her veins. Her arousal spiked, and suddenly she could feel her fangs coming out, and before Geralt could break the kiss, she bit his bottom lip. They both moaned--him at the sensation of being bit for the first time, surprised that it could be so arousing for the victim; and her because his Witcher blood was the finest wine she’d ever tasted. Her legs clenched around his hips as she swallowed the first drop of his blood.
It was then that he chose to plunge deep into her folds. She released a cry of pleasure that made the walls shake. Her walls squeezed around him as he continued to enter her, his cock going ever deeper and farther inside of her. Geralt muttered something in a language Rosa didn’t recognize, but she got the message clear enough from the tone: he was loving this as much as she was. The pain of his cock splitting her open was a welcome hurt. It turned her on and made her walls clench even tighter around his length, which only made his growls and moans deepen.
“Fuck me, Witcher,” she cried out.
He obliged her. His hips began to move at an exhilarating rate and the sensation of his cock penetrating her at such an inhuman speed threw her over the edge in a matter of moments. She threw her head back as she cried out, her fangs only elongating further as she came around his unrelenting cock.
Even after the waves of ecstasy calmed inside of her, Geralt didn’t stop fucking her. His hands had moved to her hips in a deathly grip. She was sure to have bruises from where he held her.
“Let me drink from you,” she cried out.
Without even stopping his thrusts, he tilted his head to the side, inviting her to suck at his throat. She pulled him closer to her and clamped her mouth around the soft skin of his throat, letting her fangs break the skin slowly. His movements became sloppy as she began to drink from him, as if it were as much a turn on for him as it was for her. She drank mouthful after mouthful of his sweet nectar. Her entire body lit on fire as they attacked each other, her with her mouth, and him with his cock. This was how she wanted to die, she decided--her mouth around his throat, him balls deep inside of her. It was the closest to heaven she’d ever get.
Geralt let out a broken moan as his cock spasmed inside of her. A second later his hot seed poured inside of her, dripping down her legs and onto the bed. Geralt came longer than most men did, which must have been another aspect of the Witcher mutation, but she loved it, reveled in every second of it. And when he was done, he collapsed on top of her. She pulled her mouth back and forced her fangs to retract. Blood dripped down his neck and dried on his shoulder.
“I didn’t realize you had a biting kink,” she murmured minutes later.
“Neither did I.” He was on his back beside her now, his eyes closed and a droopy smile on his face.
“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” she said, admiring the few of a Witcher fucked out beside her.
He let out a humm of agreement, and then his breaths deepened and slowed. She fell asleep beside him, a smile plastered onto her face. It was the best sleep she’d had in decades.
#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia smut#geralt the witcher#geralt smut#vampire x witcher#the witcher#the witcher smut
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trigger warning: this entry features the reader being followed and grabbed at knifepoint. If this is something that will make you uncomfortable, then please don't read it!!!!
So, I wrote this about a month before Resident Evil Village came out. As you can probably tell as this includes ideas of my own; and missed out some obvious problems that now show after playing the game. It was fun to imagine what the character was like at the time, from what we had to go on! :’) (also, I originally wrote this for the blonde who was rumoured to be called Daniela, but Daniela doesn't get enough love!!)
Guardian-Angel
Living your life at night had become your new regular. Your girlfriend Daniela is unable to live her life during the day, and despite the hardships, it came with, you were more than happy to give up the daylight to be with the woman you love.
Living with a vampire had its ups and downs, but you wouldn't change her for a second. You had been something of a stabilizer for her. When you first met her, she was stuck in her crazy gothic look. She was deadly and bloodthirsty, but you had a way of calming her to a tranquil state. Daniela had two different looks that were determined by her mood. When Daniela was calm, she was a natural beauty. Her Red hair was long and healthy, she had clear skin, and her attitude was caring. But when she was upset, Daniela was utterly different. She was full of anger, covered in black from head to toe, the surrounding area of her mouth was covered in crimson red, her fangs would grow through frighteningly sharp, and wasps would manifest seemingly out of nowhere.
You knew the dangers of living with a vampire, but it didn't matter to you. You trusted Daniela with your life. The first time you slept in the same bed as her, you couldn't help but worry about the possibility of her biting you. Little did you know that she could sense your worry and had even decided to tease you about it by resting her face in the crook of your neck. Daniela was in love with you. And deep down, she feared that one day your time would come. After all, she would be here long after your demise. The conversation of turning you was something she had yet to do, but the thought was always there. She had come close plenty of times to ask you to be with her for life, but her idea of rejection led her to remain happy with what she had.
It had just gone 1 am when you left 7-Eleven in a hurry. The pitch-black sky was unnerving but relaxing at the same time. There was a lot to enjoy about the night-time. Like, how quiet the streets were, how empty the store was, and how the sleepy nightlife was stunning to look overhead. The stars lead you home as you silently walk by yourself, you curse at the fact you left your headphones at home, but at least you could enjoy the walk back.
The dim streetlights ahead offer little visibility, but they give you absolute comfort. You come to the end of the high street where fast-food restaurants end, and the streets get much darker. With no cars going by, it's hard to tell what's up ahead when you turn right into a second street in which should be a straight shot to your apartment. You notice a man traveling just a few steps behind you. You felt uneasy about it but pushed the thought to the back of your mind. You speed up slightly to put some distance between you. The way the world was nowadays, you couldn't trust this situation; it is sad but true.
You decide to do a full circle through an alleyway and back out to the street out of curiosity. Sure enough, the shadow figure follows your every move, and that's the last that you were going to play with this. You pull out your phone and call Daniela with shaky hands. The phone rings once, and the voice you love so much answers cheerfully, but you can't even remember what she said as you were blinded with panic.
"Dani, I think someone is following me," you say in a hushed tone as to not alert the shadow figure following you. Almost as quickly as you finished the sentence, you can hear the familiar sound of wasps manifesting in the background. There is no time to be wasted in Daniela's mind. You can already hear the change in her voice as she asks for your location.
It's like you can feel Daniela's heart aching at the thought of your discomfort, something inside you doesn't feel right when Daniela gets like this, and it's ultimately why she agreed to stay calm in all circumstances.
"Just keep walking home, baby. I'll come and meet you." Your vampire girlfriend replies as you hear the phone fall to the floor and the raging hive leaves the apartment. The sound goes quiet, and you're left with your thoughts, but not for long as the footsteps get closer and louder. You can feel the presence on your heels. Before you know it, a large hand had taken you by the arm and directed you into the closest alleyway.
You yelp at the tight grip on your arm, the groceries you had from shopping had been sent to the floor, but you clutched your purse for dear life. The shadow figure was around 5ft 10Inches tall. The person was stocky in build, rugged looking. They wore a black hoodie and a black balaclava. The only thing you could see was the person's eyes. They pierced through you, you couldn't tell if they held hostile intent or if they were just trying to scare you, but that didn't matter. The person pushes you to a corner and unsheathes a small blade.
A man's voice, deep and resonant, shoots out from his mouth. "I'm gonna need that purse and whatever jewelry you have on you," He waves the blade before your eyes, almost teasing you that he had the upper hand.
Your fears boil over as the tears start to stream, and you feel powerless. You fold your arms over your purse in an act of defiance. The man in front of you seems to be getting impatient already, but you manage to bumble out a small plead, "Please, just let me go," The man chuckles at your plea.
"Just give me your shit, and then you can go. I won't even hurt you," the man jokes dryly. At this point in time, the tables had turned, "You can go now, and you won't get hurt," you confidently claim. Your confidence comes from the single wasp that crawls up the sleeve of the man's hoodie, but the single wasp was soon joined by another one, and then two more.
"I'm not fucking playing around now, give me your th- "he's cut off by the sting of a wasp on his neck. The few on his hoodie fly to the end of the alleyway. A woman's laugh surrounds the area, an angry hive of wasps come together and begin to form the silhouette of a tall woman. Your woman.
The man takes a step back in fear, which gives you the chance to storm toward the love of your life. You smoothly run straight past the form of Daniela, something that the man tries to replicate, but the swarm of wasps begins to surround him. They trap him within a tunnel. You knew what this was and where it was going. Daniela was manifesting into her proper, vampire form.
"the man screams and thrashes around, attempting to swat the wasps away from him, but his attempts were futile. The manifestation of her form becomes complete when she pushes him to the floor. Her movement is quirky but calculated. The wasps cocoon the two in a small dome. Keeping him grounded, Daniela laughs at the man's terrified figure. She taunts him with her newfound power.
"She gave you a chance, oh darling, you should have listened to her." Daniela spits her venomous, spiteful tone at the robber. The man attempts to slash at Daniela, and he catches her with the tip of the blade, but her form sheds more of the wasps surrounding the two instead of blood. She laughs demonically as she picks him up with effortless strength. She shoves him against the wall and prepares to end him.
From behind her, you force your way through the hive and touch her shoulder, which has a visible effect on her. She lets her grip on his shoulder loosen slightly. You assure her that you were unharmed, which seems to sway her, but you can still feel her rage within you. You use the power that you hold over Daniela by commanding that she let him go. She's come too far in her time with you to collapse into her bloodthirsty stage again.
And so, she lets the man run, he quickly flees the scene looking like he had just seen a vampire....... Daniela carefully watches the man disappear into the night. The second he is gone, her walls break down, and her softer side comes back out. The crazy gothic vampire look is gone without a trace. Daniela pulls you into her and crushes you into a tight hug. She couldn't lose you. The thought broke her every emotion as she held you. You could hear her breath hitch as she let it all out. Daniela was crying on your shoulder in a dark alleyway at 1:30 am.
"I love you, Y/N. I can't lose you; it would destroy me. I need you safe. I need you alive." She continues to unload every emotion. You reciprocate everything. The massive hug is filled with love and passion. Before you break the hug, you lean into her ear and whisper, "I love you too, Dani. I'm not going anywhere; nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I have my Guardian-Angel protecting me,"
A/N
I'm planning on doing part two, where Daniela has the talk with the reader about turning them into a Vampire. P.S I absolutely love the idea of her being like a normal looking girl when she's calm, but you piss her off........ Game over.
#resident evil#resident evil village#daniela#daniela dimitrescu#re8 dimitrescu#resident evil 8#daniela dimitrescu x reader#hero trope#lady dimitrescu#gaming#imagine
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in your ask did you insinuate that you wanted this but I couldn’t resist getting thirsty because...you know. Thinking about it, I may have been subconsciously inspired by @bibbidi-bobbidi-birb and her amazing Seven Deadly Birds series. If you want some real magical Hawks action, go read her beautiful fic Gula!
What do you call a hummingbird version of Hawks? Hums?
This rambling-turned-ficlet contains Microphilia, Noncon/Dubcon, Forced oral(receiving), and Yandere vibes. Just pervy fairy!Hawks in a fantasy AU.
Anyway Hawks is a tiny bastard that has completely ruined fairies for you. Everyone in this village, a village built in the middle of an enchanted forest, welcomes the small magical beings whenever they’re spotted flying about. You knew that fairies had a reputation for being tricksters, but Keigo...
You didn’t know it was possible for someone the size of your hand to be such a menace. You should have never acknowledged him. You shouldn’t have commented on his rose wings as he hovered over your flowers, the shimmering feathers appearing to change color at every angle. You shouldn’t have given him that small dish of sweet syrup as you thanked him and his kind for using their magic to keep the humans safe from the more wicked inhabitants of the forest.
His obsession with you began on that very same day you met. At first it was endearing, the way he fluttered around you, embarrassing you with backhanded compliments that only a fairy can make sound flattering.
“You’re pretty good-looking yourself, for a smelly human at least.”
Everyday he would ask for another sugary treat to slurp up, the sweetness of his voice hiding the fact that he never takes no for an answer. He’d passive aggressively question you, because what’s more important than showing a little gratitude to a creature that’s just trying to protect you?
When he isn’t forcing you to feed him, he’s following you around like a pesky bug, expecting you to make conversation. Ignore him and he’ll buzz loudly in your ear or tug on your hair. Whatever task you’re handling can’t be more important than a generous fairy asking for a little company. His questions become a bit too invasive for your liking.
“Have any of the men here caught your eye?”
“No? And why not? Are they missing something?”
“So are you still a maiden?”
“You are? Then you must taste sweeter than anything you’ve given me so far! Why not offer yourself?”
You weren’t sure what that meant, but it frightened you. The old tales never mentioned fairies consuming human flesh or drinking blood.
He only became more aggressive and less respectful of your privacy as time went on. One night you noticed too late that he found a way into your home and was calmly watching you bathe, laughing when you screamed and jumped out of the small tub without thinking and revealing your nude body to him.
“Can I drink from you?”
You say no.
One morning you wake up to find him curled up and sleeping soundly on your chest. You react by smacking him and sending him flying into a wall. As much as you’ve grown to detest him, you still panic over the fact that you just harmed a fairy.
He smirks when he sees your fear, despite how dazed he was.
“I’ll forgive you if I can drink from you.”
You say no.
Keigo frowns and, instead of pressuring you like you expected, flies away on his damaged wings. When he doesn’t return that day or the day after, you think that he has finally left you alone.
You had your first terrible nightmare the next time you slept. They got more intense every night, dreams of shadowy beasts violently tearing you limb from limb. For awhile you try different herbs and remedies in hopes of getting a peaceful sleep, but they all fail. You begin to fear sleep, dragging your feet through the streets with dark and heavy eyelids.
Then the hallucinations haunt you. Your neighbors are starting to keep their distance, whispering to each other about the times when you suddenly collapse and scream, raising your hands in front of you as if a monster is lunging at you. “She’s gone mad.”
One night, as you sit on your bed and try to blink away the horrid creatures, Keigo returns.
You’re already on your hands and knees the second you see him and realize he isn’t a part of your own cruel delusions. You beg him to save you from whatever this is, whatever evil has suddenly taken hold of your mind. He takes a long look at your sad state before answering to your pleas.
“I can save you, if you let me drink from you.”
It only scares you for a second before you accept, ready to give him anything he wants. It can’t be worse than the horrors you’ve been experiencing these past days.
You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the order to remove all of the clothing below your waist. When you hesitate, he motions to turn around and exit out of your window, which quickly makes you panic again as you shakily fumble with your garments.
It was the first time you exposed yourself to someone. Keigo may not be a human male, but judging by the many times he’s casually ogled you, he’s probably just as wolfish as one.
You’re told to lie back on the bed and spread your legs. The embarrassment is almost strong enough to overpower your drowsiness and week-long headache. The fairy flies and lands between your thighs, standing right in front of your virgin womanhood.
Small hands touch your lips all over. “What a beautiful flower. I’ve been dreaming about how sweet your nectar tastes since you first spoke to me.” He presses the hooded bud at the top and chuckles when your hips jolt.
Oh gods, is this what he means by drinking? No...
You’re afraid to close your eyes, afraid of whatever terrifying demons await you in the darkness, but you simply don’t have the strength to watch him violate you like this.
You don’t see, but you sure do feel the slender and very long invasion inside of you, a foreign and shameful feeling, but admittedly not unpleasant. It darts in and out of you rapidly, your nerves struggling to keep up with the speed of sensations. He’s feeding from you just like he would from a flower or a cup of sugar water.
The avian tongue is small yet brings you so much pleasure that it chases away your fears. You fight to keep your quivering thighs from closing and crushing the feasting fairy, your pussy contracting as more juices flow to soak him.
He’ll occasionally come up for air and comment on how delicious you are, how juicy your petals are once you fully bloom, and how you’ve officially spoiled him and will no longer be satisfied by any of your sugary gifts.
His nimble muscle works fast at collecting your moisture, pressing against your walls just enough to make you whimper as a strange pressure grew inside of your belly. You eventually gain the courage to look down, though all you can really see is a pair of wings that will sometimes happily flutter.
Keigo is still gorging himself when the tension in your gut suddenly snaps with a burst of pleasure strong enough to temporarily smother the darkness. It has you screaming into the night, and if the village wasn’t already convinced that you were insane, someone probably would have ventured out to check on you. He climbs up your stomach and rests on your chest when he finishes, completely drenched and proud of it.
He promises that the shadows will slowly go away, and you want to embrace his small form. You haven’t forgotten how despicable he’s been, but you owe him your life, or at the very least your sanity. You still shy away when he informs you that he needs to feed from you at least once a day to ensure your mind remains free. As incredible as it felt, it will always be difficult to just open your legs and allow his tongue inside your most intimate spot.
As for Keigo, he can’t believe how well this plan went. Now he can go tell his fellow fairies that you have finally made amends for your unreasonable behavior.
When you had the audacity to smack him into a wall, he fled into the depths of the forest and alerted the others of his injuries. Enraged by the harm you brought upon one of their own, they lifted their protective magic over you, leaving you vulnerable to the evils of the woods. It truly was sad watching the unseen forces torment you, but you needed to be taught a lesson for denying him so many times and daring to strike him.
Your protection will return once he gives them the news, but you'll never know that. Instead, you’ll believe that he is keeping you safe all on his own, with the work of his mouth and ravenous appetite. It sounds ridiculous to his own ears, but it’s not like you silly humans understood fairy magic well enough to know better.
He can’t help it. You’re the sweetest flower in these woods, and he’s going to keep you all to himself.
#asks#hawks#smut#yandere#tw noncon#tw dubcon#keigo takami#hawks x reader#well this is something i never thought i'd write#or even have interest in#but life is unpredictable#so here's micro!hawks#i'm sorry anon#all you did was mention him being super tiny#and my brain exploded
392 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello again! Chapter 2 has finished undergoing it's revision and so here it is :)
Word count: ~1400
Warnings: not much actually, blood, more ooc angry Vegeta, ooc soft!vegeta
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------
Darkness.
Nothing.
Lost.
“Y/N! Y/N!” you heard someone calling your name in the distance. “Please, no no no!” The voice sounded familiar. Gravely and deep. “Y/N please! Wake up!” But there was a very big difference to it that you'd never heard before. “No please, you have to be okay!” You could hear pure distress and pain. “My girl, not my precious girl.”
You began to regain feeling in your body again. Your fingers started to tingle and you felt strong arms wrapped around you, you were being rocked back and forth. You tried to open your eyes, but they were too heavy. You felt like you'd been hit by a bus. The most you could manage was to squint your eyes and scrunch your nose. You felt Vegeta's grip on you loosen ever so slightly as he realized you were alive and you could hear the relief in his voice when he finally spoke.
“Y/N! You're alive! I'm so sorry Y/N, I'm so sorry!” You managed to open your eyes just a crack, enough to look up and see your Saiyan, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks and pain in his eyes. He really thought he’d lost you and it broke your heart to see him like that. That was until you remembered that he’d been the one choking you out in the first place.
You scrambled to get away from him as fast as you could, using all the strength you could muster, but he held you in place against him. As you were struggling, you started to become more aware of your surroundings. The walls were crumbling around you, giving you a perfect view of your back garden. The roof was blown to oblivion and the nice wooden flooring was littered with singe marks and blood. It looked like a bomb went off, but you knew it was the aftermath of a saiyan fight. You stopped fighting against his grip as you took in your destroyed home, and your eyes moved back up to Vegeta.
“What is.. What the fuck happened?” You managed to croak barely above a whisper, fear trembling in your voice. Your throat hurt from being manhandled, and it made talking painful. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was hesitant to reply. It looked like he might break down and cry if he spoke.
“I.. It’s.. I don’t know.. I just, something happened today.. I came home straight away and.. I was too late.. And you were.. And he was.. And now the house is destroyed, and you're so hurt. I’m so sorry Y/N.. Can you forgive me?” he finally managed to stutter out. You’d never seen him like this. He was crying and concerned about you.
It was strange, unnatural even, seeing his face shine by a substance that wasn’t sweat. The sight of your strong Saiyan breaking into pieces around you made your eyes well up with tears. “Fuck you. You hurt me so bad Geeta.. You nearly.. n-nearly..” Your words were falling from your mouth incoherently between sobs. He was holding you tight around your shoulders and chest, and you had your legs hanging off the edge of his lap. He was still rocking slowly back and forth as he stroked your hair gently and whispered apologies and promises against your temple. Seeing Vegeta like this broke your heart almost as much as it scared you.
When you calmed yourself down enough, you asked him again “What happened? Why are you crying? You tried to kill me!” His face took on an expression of guilt as he realized what you meant. He opened his mouth to explain, but you heard another voice speak from behind you.
“Well, well Geeta.. I didn't think we’d ever get this emotional, let alone over a low class piece of scrap like that.” The voice was the same as the person whose lap you were sitting in, but something was different, no subtle hint of warmth like it always had. You were frozen in place and didn't dare move your head for fear he’d see and decide to hurt you again, whoever or whatever this... this thing was. Because whatever it was it sure as hell was not your Vegeta. Your Vegeta was holding you tighter than he'd ever done before, gripping you to his chest with an almost painful force. You felt his arms cling to you tighter as you heard and felt thudding footsteps approaching the two of you from behind.
“It's so good to finally be rid of you. All this time, having to deal with your stupid emotions in the back of my mind. You make me sick!” The second Vegeta called out to your Vegeta who held you tighter as the other neared. You felt Vegeta's head rise from your shoulder to look the imposter in the eye.
“You barbaric fool! You need me! How else will you know when to stop?” You felt the words reverberate through his rib cage and into yours as he spoke, with the softest aggression you’d ever heard from the prince of all Saiyans. “You know you need me, you just wont admit it over your stupid Saiyan pride.”
“A Saiyan doesn't need to stop, therefore has no need for feelings.” The imposter snarled back at your Vegeta. As you clung to Vegeta’s chest you began to think “this must be a dream” You couldn't help but think back to the events of the morning, before all this.
You woke up bright and early before Vegeta and gave him a kiss on his forehead. His tail wrapped itself firmly around your thigh when you tried to climb out of bed. It was so cute that even in his sleep his tail wanted you near. Vegeta loved it when you touched his tail. A Saiyan’s tail is one of the most sensitive parts of their body you know. So as it tightened around you, you stroked the tip of his tail ever so gently so that it would release you, allowing you to go make breakfast. He loved when you woke up early and cooked for him, especially on days when he was going to go train with Goku. His favourite was bacon and eggs with pancakes before training. He always insisted on strawberry jam, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce with his pancakes, so that's what you decided to make.
You were halfway through stacking Vegeta’s tower of pancakes when he walked into the kitchen, wearing only his boxers while he wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched his back, flexing all his gorgeous muscles as he did so.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” he breathed through a yawn. “You're making my favourite? You're the best!” he said sleepily as he came up behind you to wrap his arms around you. He pulled you back against his bare chest as he planted soft kisses down your neck, making you squirm against him.
“Knock it off Vegeta, you'll make me knock over your pancakes!” You said playfully as you struggled against him. He finally let you go and you went back to cooking breakfast. You loved mornings like this with Vegeta. It was the only time he was this soft with you, being the one initiating hugs. Any other time of the day and you were lucky if he would even hug you back, but you wouldn't have it any other way, it just made his tenderness all the more special.
“You! Are weak!” The shout tore you away from the memory as you pressed yourself tighter into Vegeta's chest, tears threatening to fall again. “Without me, you are nothing! You may look and sound the same as me, but power comes from anger, and you left that all with me.” It was then, when you opened your eyes again, that you realized the Vegeta holding you was hurt. Bad. There was blood soaking through his tattered clothing and into yours. There was so much blood you could smell the distinct warm, metallic scent of it. “Without you in here, I can finally reach my full potential, unclouded by your stupid adoration of this low class pig.”
You felt the air around you crackle with energy. He must have transformed. You couldn’t help but turn and look. Fear squeezed tightly in your chest for the second you saw the other Vegeta. His hair had turned the brightest blue, and a blindingly bright ball of energy was forming in his outstretched hand. “Time for you to go, both of you. So pathetic you don't deserve a goodbye.”
In an instant you were there, about to be blasted to oblivion by some evil version of your mate, and then you weren't. Your head was spinning and you were confused, your vision started to blur with images of your house and then of the med bay at bulmas and then of Vegeta limp underneath you. The last thing you remember is being laid down in a soft bed, your tail entwined with Vegeta's.
-----------------------------------------------
I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for having 2 chapters in a row ~fade into unconsciousness~ i just didn't know how else to end this chapter 🤷♀️ as always comments and reblogs make my heart sing 😁 thank you for reading!
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
More Padre!Domingo coming right up aka Daddy Sunday pt. 2
As per usual, all my immense love to @creme-bruhlee and my Daniel server for being a sounding board and to @gwaciechang cheering me on to the finish of this one.
Contained herein is 1.7k of somnophilia, unprotected sex, ambiguously negotiated kink, and further disrespect to Spanish Catholicism. If you’d prefer ao3 and Part One. Stands alone.
Rahab
Exodus 34, Joshua 6
You and Padre have been seeing each other for a while now, you’ve got a key to his place in the attic above the church. It’s a shame he’s an early riser since waking to the midmorning light above the city is one of the warmest things you’ve ever felt.
Padre always gets up early for work and you always come in late from classes and there’s always so little time for the both of you. What little time you get to yourselves is used for fucking and sleeping, not that you really complain about it, it’s just how things are.
It’s verging on summer, sticky heat tagging along to the end of the wet season. You’d gone out the night before and when you came in, he’d already been asleep. You were quiet, careful not to disturb his night before Mass beauty sleep. You had peeled off your boots by the door, yanked your socks and panties off and dived into bed still half clothed. He’d slung an arm around you, pulling you close, nuzzling into your sweat lank hair. The last uppers were worming their way through your system in a heady buzz as you snuggled into him like a second skin before conking out.
You woke when he got up for work the next morning, watching him dress lazily from the bed. Your head was cottony but you forced yourself up to hydrate and pull the rest of your clothes off. He watched you unzip your skirt, giving you a swat to the ass as you pulled it down. You gave him a filthy kiss before he headed out the door.
You left your clothes on the floor and went to shower, scrubbing the grime from the club off. You towel off preliminarily, the heat of the day will dry you the rest of the way as you collapse back on top of the bed sheets to sleep the rest of the morning away.
---
The late spring sun rises through the upper windows, casting the afternoon in stained glass tinted light, not enough to wake you but enough that when Daniel comes in, your skin is painted in the most delicious colors.
He undressed quietly, hanging his shirt up and dropping his slacks in the laundry basket before quietly coming up to where you’re sprawled face down on the bed, ankle twisted in the white sheets. He sits gently on the edge of the bed, sliding a hand from your ankle to knee, skin soft in sleep, clean of glitter and sweat. He traces the lax tendons on the back of your knee before travelling up, lingering on the inside of your thigh but you don’t wake.
He watches you for a few minutes, tracing sigils into your thigh before nudging them apart, dipping into the crease of your thigh, rubbing smoothly. He keeps watch over your face, looking for signs of consciousness. All you do is readjust your head against the pillows.
His finger gets more adventurous, skimming over your folds to tease at the other side, picking up a hint of damp. He smirks to himself before leaning over you, whispering into your ear “Good dreams, Princess?”
He shifts himself between your legs, careful not to disturb you before stroking himself as he dances fingers across your entrance before slowly inserting one, waiting for a reaction. When none comes he grows bolder, adding a second and gently pumping them, drawing out your wetness.
You’re wet enough for him to not have to worry about lube but he goes for some anyway, wanting you to wake to his cock being fully seated in you and not a second before. He slicks himself generously before crawling up the bed with the grace of a polar bear on thin ice. He’s vigilant in positioning himself over your thighs to get the easy angle. He approaches haltingly, adjusting himself with one hand around the base of his cock to guide and the other holding your lips apart.
He checks that you’re still sound asleep before he breaches you, hands falling to the sheets by your shoulders to avoid further stimuli that could wake you. It takes immeasurable self control on his part not to thrust in all at once. It’s smooth and a self-inflicted torture so severe it cancels out the sin of committing it.
He comes to be fully sheathed in you. He lowers himself to his elbows, rosary falling against your back in a warm cascade of beads, his hot breath fanning over you. You twitch in your sleep but don’t wake. He breathes through another quirk of his lips, you were always such a sound sleeper, secure enough in your position with God to never worry if you’ll wake again.
He straightens his back, moving to lay more fully over your back, dragging his rosary through your hair, shifting on his elbows to box in your head, pulling back a hand to loop his overly large heirloom rosary around your throat too.
He pulls out and thrusts all the way back in with all the violence of a man trying to earn his place with a personal God. This is what wakes you with a disoriented moan, dreams blurring with reality. You go to push yourself up only to be restrained by the sharp scent of myrrh and smoke all around you, warm skin pressing you down, beard hair scratching at the side of your face.
“Do you know what I preached about today, mi cielito?” A thrust, “Of course you don’t. Are you familiar with Rahab?”
You shake your head as he thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, soft and sleepy moans spilling from deep in your chest compressed between the pure sheets and his ribcage.
“The righteous harlot.”
You roll your eyes and try to wiggle some space to stretch your staticky limbs but are restricted by his beads chaining you to him. He feels you pull on them and shifts his weight again, freeing a hand to put his first bead and cross in your hand.
“Pray for me, Princess. Contemplate our sins for me.”
You make a half hearted sign of the cross, earning you a thrust and a kiss to the side of your neck. You begin to recite the Apostles Creed, each line earning you half a thrust. “Was crucified, died, and was buried- Fuck!” He pulled all the way out and proceeded to thrust back in with a rough surety, grinding down into you, digging his teeth into your shoulder.
“I don’t think that’s part of it. Start over.”
You let out a sob as you start the Creed over, trying to hurry through as he resumes his half thrusts. You close with a slightly hysterical ‘amen,’ the last of the sleep warmth leaving you for the heat of passion. The blood flow is no longer sluggish but concentrated in your core, flaring out in need. You make it through the Our Father before another sob makes you deviate from the script.
Daniel tuts in your ear, “Do you need to start over?”
“No, please. I’ll be good.”
“Are you sure? You keep messing up. Do you need a corrective hand, Princess?”
“No, no. I can do it.”
“Prove it.”
You struggle through the Hail Marys’ and pull in a shaking breath, really hoping he took Charity to heart. He hasn’t let up on his thrusts, he intentionally holds you in the limbo of regularity and almost but not enough. You know better than to beg, he’s given you an instruction and you have to thread the beads through your hand and pray.
He nuzzles into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You make it through the first Glory Be and go to announce the first Mystery before you can’t take it anymore and struggle under him, trying to force yourself back on his cock. He pulls out, worming a hand under you to paw at your breast, pull at your nipple, “Bad girl. You still have an Our Father.” He presses you up into his chest, kneading at your breast, “Be a good girl for me.”
You struggle, feeling empty without is cock but you make it, begging to be delivered from evil. When you finish, he mutters an ‘amen’ against your throat as he stuffs his cock back in you, pulling the rosary from his neck to leave on you as he sets his weight against your lower back, pinning you down. He widens his stance and drives into you without delay.
The power in his momentum shakes the bed, causing the headboard to knock against the wall, a rhythmic tempo to accompany you being crushed into the mattress.
The sheets stick to your clean sweat as you edge closer, breathing hard and inadequately through your pillow. You whimper with the strength he’s using, bending your spine, wetly slamming into you.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, shuddering through you in one violent motion before you go limp under him; underwhelming and way too much.
He nudges your legs closed and you let him, creating a tighter channel for him to fuck into. He rebalances, one hand planted on your back, the other climbing up into your hair, yanking it back on the knife’s edge of pain.
His nails bite into your skin and the grip on your hair tightens before he lets out a long and low growl as he comes. He lets go of your hair but not before, “You’re my blessed whore aren’t you?”
“God, yes.” For that blasphemy he slaps the side of your face he can reach, the angle is awkward but the point is made, you wiggle your hips, clench around his spent cock, “But I’m still in your bed.”
He huffs out a derisive laugh, pulls out, “That you are.”
The mess of come and lube starts to cool between your legs, sweat growing tacky. You pull the beads through your fingers again, suck the bottom of the cross into your mouth and give him a half lidded stare before rolling over into a dry spot.
He leans down and licks a stripe up your stomach before latching onto a nipple before you swat at his head and he lets up, coming up to kiss you. He nips at your lips but you deny him, pushing his face away.
He doesn’t listen, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off with before laying down next to you, pulling you into an embrace and throwing an arm over his eyes, ready to fall asleep on a Sunday afternoon with you.
Part 3
#daniel brühl#daniel bruhl x reader#padre domingo#padre domingo x reader#fem reader#somnophilia#daniel bruhl smut#priest!daniel bruhl#daniel bruhl fanfiction
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
come back to me — harry potter
pairing: harry potter x female!reader
summary: harry has never been good at keeping promises, but this one he knows he will keep.
a/n: this is my entry for @hufflefluff-writer‘s writing challenge! congrats again on 300 followers!! <3 the prompt was “are you just going to leave me here?” and will be in bold :)
“Do you promise you won’t leave?”
“Yes.”
"I mean it, Harry. No matter what happens. No matter what Dumbledore may have told you. You can’t—“
“I know. I know. I promise.”
—
Harry isn't very good at keeping promises.
At first the promises were small, almost irrelevant. When Harry promised to call over the summer of their third year, he didn't, but that might just have been because of his horrible uncle. When Harry casually threw it out there that he'd teach her how to play Quidditch in their fourth year, he didn't, but that was mostly not his fault and more of the Triwizard Tournament's, which banned Quidditch matches throughout the entire year. When Harry promised that the Dumbledore's Army wouldn't get caught under any circumstances in their fifth year, they did—and while part of her had been expecting it, it still would've been great if they didn't. And when he promised that he wouldn't do anything reckless in that very same year, he did, by going to the Department of Mysteries in an impulsive attempt to rescue his godfather. In their sixth year he promised the same thing—"I won't do anything rash unless I'm absolutely sure he's a Death Eater, I promise"—and just like the ones before it, Harry broke that one, too.
So [Y/N] isn't to blame when she starts to grow frustrated and her trust in him begins to wane.
A week before Bill and Fleur's wedding, when they’re staying up late at night for preparations, [Y/N] and Harry find themselves alone in the Burrow's garden with no one but themselves and the garden gnomes for company. [Y/N] goes, “With any luck, we’ll be able to prepare for our wedding like this sometime in the future” and Harry looks over at her, a wistful sort of look in his eyes, smiles and says, "We will.”
It sounds like a promise. [Y/N] is scared because Harry is bad at keeping them.
But yes—she may be scared—but she can't burden him with things like this, not right now, when he's dealing with far greater things than his girlfriend's petty wishes. Not when he's dealing with a crazed evil wizard who will stop at nothing to kill him.
But she is only human and humans have a tendency—an eagerness—to try and take even things they cannot have. They cling onto them out of whatever reason; greed or pure want or curiosity, but in this case it’s love.
And love makes you do foolish things. Makes you beg and plead and do anything you can in your power to hang onto whoever your heart feels so strongly for despite the circumstances.
That's why, when [Y/N] spots Harry’s figure from outside of her bedroom window at the Burrow at three in the morning, his back turned and a bag slung across his shoulders, she scrambles out of bed and runs down the stairs to intercept him.
”Harry!”
He freezes in his tracks; he hasn’t even made it past the Burrow's enchantments.
[Y/N] is barefoot but she barely even makes out the feeling of soil underneath her feet as she walks forward. The disappointment drowns everything else out.
It’s not like she hasn’t noticed. Harry isn’t exactly the most discreet when it comes to planning; Ron had told her days ago that Harry seemed to be packing his stuff. But even if Ron hadn’t ratted him out, she still would have known, because [Y/N] knows Harry well enough to know that he won’t be able to sit around doing nothing while the rest of the wizarding world struggles under the grasp of Lord Voldemort.
[Y/N] knows Harry well enough to know that he has a tendency to want to save everyone. Something that makes it hard for him to keep promises.
But knowing that doesn't make it any easier for her to accept it.
She doesn’t bother asking him where he’s going because she already knows. But it hurts, still, and the disdain in her chest has her saying in a tight voice, like there's already a lump in her throat, “Are you just going to leave me here?”
And she sounds desperate. Sounds like she's pleading—and she is, even though it makes her sound pathetic—but because she is human she hangs onto what she can't have and stands there outside of the Burrow at three in the morning, when the sky is still a shade of pitch black and the cold wind tosses strands of her hair about in the air, asking Harry for something that she knows he can't give her. But she tries, anyway, because she is human, and because she is human she is capable of feeling love. The kind of love that has her staring at Harry with a look in her eyes that pleads with him to stay.
Harry's jaw is set. The midnight breeze ruffles his hair as he meets her gaze. There's that same kind of longing in his eyes that's reflected in her own, but his has resolution in them—determination. He has his mind made up. “Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”
“But you promised." She wants to yell, but the words come out of her choked and weak and do little to hide the pain in her chest. "You told me you wouldn’t leave—“
“I know what I said." Cold. Pained. He has his mind made up. "I know what I promised you and I’m sorry but I can’t just sit here—“
“While other people die,” she finishes for him, because she knows Harry so awfully well, enough to know that he tends to want to save everyone even if it means putting his own life on the line.
And that angers her, because for once in his bloody life can’t he put himself first?
But he's right, and in a way that makes it even worse. Harry is the only one capable of bringing about the Dark Lord's downfall—there's a whole bloody prophecy about it. But Harry is more than that; he's a teenage boy—a child—and he has people who love him and want to protect him—people like [Y/N], who can't stand the thought of him going out there alone to bear the weight of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders.
"At least let me come with you." Helpless.
Sadness appears at the corners of Harry's mouth, tugging them down a little as he offers her this pained sort of smile and says what [Y/N] is expecting him to but hopes he wouldn't—"I can't."
"Just wait here. I can go—" Something like a cross between a whimper and a sob slips past her lips. "I can go inside really quickly and pack some of my stuff, okay? Just wait here."
"[Y/N]."
"I'll be quick, Harry—" There are tears on her cheeks and anguish in her voice so palpable that she doesn't even try to hide it anymore. "I'll be quick. Just wait here."
And then she's turning around, but before she can even make it a few steps, Harry is rushing forward and he's grasping her wrist and pulling her into his chest. [Y/N] feels his arms wrap themselves around her shoulders but she can't find the strength in her to hug him back, so all she does is cry into his shirt, entire body wracking with the force of her sobs. And she can't, for the life of her, bring the tears to stop—not for a while—so for a long time all the two of them do is stand there outside of the Burrow with Harry holding her like if he does so tight enough he'll be able to pull the pain right out of her and deal with it himself.
But when she does—when she finds her voice again and with it the will to stop crying—she pulls away from his chest, and Harry moves his hand from her shoulders to her waist, and with his other free one, he reaches for her face and thumbs at her tear-stricken cheeks even though his own face is wet from tears he hasn't even realized had fallen.
And when she looks up at him, her eyes are pained. Tired. Defeated. But at the same time there's also a sort of fierce determination in them—the kind that Harry has grown to love so much.
"I'm only going to ask two things of you, Harry." By some miracle, her voice doesn't tremble as she reaches up to grasp at his arm, her grip firm. She swallows. "The first is that you stop making promises you know in your heart you can't keep."
[Y/N] sees something break in Harry's eyes. Harry knows that this isn't any easier for her than it is for him, so he tries to be brave, too. He closes his eyes for a few moments, as though gathering himself, and when he opens them again he whispers, "And the second?"
Just like that, her resolve breaks. Her heart lodges in her throat. The determination in her eyes dies out. In a broken voice, she says, "Come back to me."
Suddenly his lips are on hers, barely more than a gentle press of lips, something stolen—something pure and intimate and gentle amidst the war that's raging on beyond the Burrow's enchantments.
He'll be back. No matter what it costs him. He will have this again—this, her, the feeling of his skin on hers and her lips on his.
Harry has never been good at keeping promises, but this one he knows he will keep.
#ameliaswritingchallenge#harry potter#harry potter oneshot#harry potter oneshots#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#hp imagine#hp imagines#hp x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ignoti nulla cupido | part three.
summary: natasha finds you once again to be able to keep her an tony’s promise to keep you safe, but how would they react when they’ll learn about the little dirty secret you have been keeping since you left bucky’s side?
word count: 1173.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader.
author’s note: shit starts to get real so be prepared.
ignoti nulla cupido series | masterlist.
A week has passed since the little impromptu road trip started, it seemed that Nat had all the time of the world to get to the Avenger’s Compound. Something that really stroke a nerve within (Y/N) because, if there was an imminent danger, why would she take so long to get there?
After all, she had made her come out in the clear after three years. (Y/N) was now in the real world, the safety that the bubble the town she was living in provided no longer existed. Both mother and child were out in the clear, a much bright and scary world than what she remembered.
There had been multiple stops along the way to the west coast: dinners, museums, amusement parks, Nat took care of all. She and James became friends surprisingly fast earning the aunt tittle in a matter of days.
It astounded (Y/N) how good Nat was with her son giving the fact that his father and her sometimes didn’t even look at each other’s way, or at least that was how it was back then. Seeing her with James did bring back thoughts she’d pushed back to the deepest corners of her mind.
How would it be like if she had returned when she found out she was pregnant? Would that have changed anything between Bucky and her? Maybe it could, maybe if (Y/N) had come back Bucky would have loved her again, lots of maybes running wildly through her restless mind.
But what (Y/N) did know for sure was that she couldn’t force anything into Bucky, that she wouldn’t let a kid fix them both. No, she had seen that before, how parents got together again if they were expecting and that never ended up well. After all, she has been that child once in her life and she would not put that burden upon her baby’s shoulders.
Natasha stopped the car near a wood breaking her course of though. (Y/N) looked through the window, it didn’t look very welcoming. “Where are we at Nat?”
“We’re spending the night here, there’s a cabin just at the shore’s lake. Maybe do some fishing, a campfire, get the whole camping in the woods experience?” She stated jovially looking at Jay that couldn’t look more delighted.
“Okay” She just responded as she got off the car getting to James. “You and I are gonna have a talk, real talk Russian redhead once he’s out in bed” (Y/N) whispered to Natasha as her son ran to the cabin.
“Okay mamma” She chuckled “I see you master that motherly tone (Y/N/N) and it just makes you even scarier than before.”
“What’s going on? For real this time, so don’t you dare give me a fucking excuse this time” (Y/N) spat back to Nat when she was sure her son was deeply asleep inside the cabin.
“Nothing’s going on, I just want to spend some quality time with my best friend. The best friend I haven’t seen in almost four years and get to know her son before we get to the Compound and all hell breaks loose.” She said back nonchalantly but(Y/N) didn’t buy it, she was nervous. She seemed to be on alert as if she was expecting something to happen at any given moment.
“Nat, if you don’t tell me right now was goin…” (Y/N) couldn’t finish as an explosion was heard and both of them were thrown a few miles ago due to the blast.
(Y/N) couldn’t hear anything, but she stood up and ran to the cabin screaming her only son’s name. She didn’t see Nat running behind her as she pulled out a gun but she did felt her hand grabbing her wrist as she was about to enter the house.
“(Y/N), stop. You can’t go in there, it could be a trap” Everything sounded distorted and distant.
“My son is in there Nat, what the hell?” She said trying to break free, but she was stronger than her. All those years without training had their effects on (Y/N).
“Dammit, this was supposed to be a safe location” She let go of her as she surveyed the area. “Okay, I’m gonna get in there with you. I hope you’re not rusty because I got a feeling that your abilities are going to be very much needed.” She handed her a gun and smiled softly to her, motioning to get into the cabin.
Everything was clear, no sign of James. (Y/N) started to panic, she couldn’t breathe, her son was gone. She did this, she let Nat dragged both of them off of their perfect plain and boring life and she was paying the consequences now.
“Mom” (Y/N) heard James cry out for help, making both of them bolt towards the sound.
“Shut up stupid boy” A man said as he slapped James across his cheek as his tears became to grow in size.
“Don’t touch him or you will die” A gun was pointed towards his head.
“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Finally, I get to see you, you’re looking good” An evil smirk forming in his face. “Natasha, thank you so much for bringing them to me. I really thought you were better than this, a better agent, a better spy but looks like you screwed it up.”
Nat launched herself forwards this man but she was knocked out in a matter of seconds, (Y/N)’s eyes widened in fear not knowing how he achieve that.
“What do you want? Just leave him out of this, he’s just a kid.” She smiled at Jay while she walked towards them. “Take me instead, I’ll do anything you want me to.” (Y/N) could feel it inside of her, how it was bubbling in her chest, the feeling foreign to her after much time.
“Sorry doll, not happening” The nickname made her gag as she realized it, he was HYDRA. “I want him, his DNA is a perfect and unique combination of what you’re able to do and what we did to his father. He’ll be a fantastic new fist of HYDRA when he’ll grow up.”
James stopped crying when the man mentioned his father and looked between both of them. It broke her heart, she had never told him anything about Bucky.
“Over my dead body” (Y/N) said between clenched teeth as the water from the lake began to rise and form a mass.
“Well, if you insist” The man was suddenly behind her, taking advantage of this he hit her in the head making her fell to the dirty ground, blood dripping from her forehead.
(Y/N) pulled all her strength and crawled to where Jay was still but the man grabbed her hair and tossed her around. “Bye doll, send my dearest regards to the Winter Soldier.” He demanded as his foot covered in a military boot made contact with (Y/N)’s head followed by a blade inserted near her heart.
The last thing (Y/N) heard was her son, her three-year-old son yelling desperately for her to take him home.
forever taglist: @everythingisbeautifulposts |
ignoti nulla cupido taglist: @vicmc624 | @margaaaa30 | @gudenuph | @weepingbanditskeletonnickel | @summb | @peaches-roses-sins | @pspice639 | @purplewcrld | @gloryekaterina |
#persephonesinfernosqueue#persephonesinfernoswriting#ignotinullacupido series#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes series#bucky angst#bucky fic#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#marvel fanfic#marvel series#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#the winter soldier fanfic#the winter soldier fic#the winter soldier fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one shot#bucky oneshot#bucky one shot#bucky series
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Jealous (Okay, Maybe a Little... Maybe a Lot)
8.1k
fluff, set sometime in s13, tfw gets a visit from the djinn queen
(okay so in 13x16, Cas says he killed most of the djinn guarding the Tree of Life, but this fic ignores that bc I like to think that Cas is an excellent negotiator and actually became friends with the djinn and their queen :))
also posted on ao3
created for CastielWasTheFirstTemptation for the Profound Bond Discord Exchange
Dean was having a crappy Tuesday. And he’d had plenty of experience with bad Tuesdays.
He was sitting in the library trying to parse through a stack of books, organizing them according to random categories he was half-sure Sam had made up to specifically torture him.
They’d been busy with hunts all month and on their one day off, Sam had decided it was “organize the bunker” day. He was downstairs in one of the storage rooms happily cataloguing away. Dean was stuck up here, doing the same thing, less happily.
He was tossing a book onto the Sewer Dwelling Monsters pile when the bunker door screeched open.
“Hey,” he called, grabbing another book and leafing through it. “You better have remembered to pick up beer and pie because I’m going crazy here.”
“Dean, we have a visitor.”
And that’s when Dean’s Tuesday got worse.
Dean looked up to see Cas standing on the stairway next to a ridiculously tall man—and that was saying something when they lived with Sasquatch himself. Dean only needed one look at the black tattoos snaking over the man’s bald head and forearms to realize he was a Djinn.
Quickly, Dean stood, pushing his chair back. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
The man fixed him with a heavy stare, then proceeded to scan the room. Cas spoke up, “Don’t worry, he’s not a threat.” To the man, he said, “I promise it’s safe in here.”
“What—” Dean started, then the man nodded once and motioned to someone beyond the doorway.
In a loud voice, he announced, “May I present Queen of the Djinn, her majesty Zara.”
At his words, a woman swept through the door, dressed in a long, dark cloak, her arms and neck also covered in Djinn tattoos.
“Why, Castiel,” she said, gazing around the room. “What a lovely home you have. I have to say, though, I didn’t expect you to live underground.”
“I’m sorry,” Dean spoke up. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman turned her eyes on him and Cas shifted uncomfortably. He was holding several reusable grocery bags in his hands. “Dean, this is Zara. My, uh, betrothed.”
“Your what?” Dean spluttered and the woman—Queen Zara, apparently—started down the stairs, her dress and cloak sweeping behind her.
“You must be Dean Winchester,” she said. “Castiel told me about you.” Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she extended her hand palm down, and Dean stared at it. He settled on shaking it, unsure whether she was expecting him to bow or kiss her hand.
“Sorry, can we back up for a second?” He looked up at Cas who was following the other Djinn down the stairs. “Did you say betrothed?”
“Yes,” Zara answered brightly.
“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, unsure if he was understanding this correctly. Cas looked a little guilty. “Care to elaborate, Cas?”
“I may have technically become married to Zara when I went in search of the fruit of the Tree of Life.” Dean raised his eyebrows, and he added, “And I may have forgotten to tell you.”
“You forgot to tell me?” Dean repeated.
“I was going to,” Cas said. “But then we ended up in that cartoon with the talking dog and there was so much going on—”
“If I may,” Zara interjected, and Dean realized Zara and the man, presumably her bodyguard, were watching them go back and forth. “I see there’s been a miscommunication. See, when Castiel arrived for negotiations to obtain the fruit of the Tree of Life, we Djinn were in the middle of a war. I asked for Castiel’s hand in marriage in exchange for giving him the fruit, and we pledged ourselves to each other, agreeing to hold the official binding ceremonies later when the war didn’t require all my focus.”
Dean glared at Cas. Pledged themselves to each other? Cas ducked his head with a sheepish look and set his grocery bags on the table.
Unbothered, Zara continued, “Now that the war has ended, I am able to turn my thoughts towards finalizing our relationship. I came to reunite with dear Castiel and bring him back to my kingdom for our official wedding ceremony.”
“Hold on,” Dean spoke up. “Wedding? Bring him back—Cas ain’t gonna marry you.”
Zara’s eye twitched. “I think that’s up to Castiel, isn’t it, Dean?”
Dean looked to Cas for help, who spoke up, “I’m afraid Dean is right, Zara. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I realized the extent of the commitment I made. I can’t marry you.”
Dean eyed Zara and her bodyguard, tensing for a fight, but Zara’s reaction was only to smile and pat Cas’ shoulder.
“It’s no surprise that you would feel that way, Castiel,” she said. “We hardly know each other, after all. I confess, part of my reasoning for journeying here was to see the real you, to learn about you. I’m eager for us to grow closer during our time together.”
“During our time—” Dean was interrupted by Zara clapping her hands. Instantly, the bunker door opened to admit a line of other Djinn who filed down the stairs, all carrying baskets or trunks or cases.
Dean stared at them. “What the fuck…”
“There’s more of them,” Cas said unhelpfully.
“Alright, we need to talk.” Grabbing Cas’ arm, Dean pulled him into the adjacent hallway. “Stay right there!” he told Zara, jabbing his finger at her.
“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas started as Dean dragged him into the hallway.
“Dude, what the fuck? Getting freaking engaged to a Djinn isn’t just something you forget to tell us about!”
“I was preoccupied!” Cas protested.
“And now you’re gonna let them into the bunker? Are you crazy?”
“They’re not a threat, Dean. Zara is very different from the Djinn we’ve encountered before.”
Footsteps sounded behind them and Dean turned to see Sam running over. “What’s going on out here, what’s all that noise?”
“We’ve been invaded by the Djinn,” Dean said, and Sam’s eyes widened.
“What? How? I’ll grab guns—”
“No, Sam.” Cas put out his hand to stop Sam from bolting down the hallway. “It’s not like that, they’re friendly.”
“Oh, so now you’re buddies with them?” Dean asked.
Cas shot him a look and started explaining the situation to Sam. Shaking his head, Dean peeked out through the doorway to watch the Djinn pile their belongings on the map table, Zara giving instructions.
Preoccupied? Really? Then again, communication never had been one of his and Cas’ strengths.
There were about ten other Djinn besides Zara and her bodyguard. One of the men set down a large trunk and Dean winced at the scuffing noise it made on the floor. Then the man opened the trunk and Dean startled, realizing it was filled with weapons and blades.
“Hey!” he protested, storming into the room. “No weapons allowed in here. You don’t wanna start something with us, this is our home turf.”
The bodyguard stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, but Zara only laughed. “This is a friendly visit, Dean, I assure you. These items are for Castiel, as part of my dowry.” She brightened, seeing Sam and Cas enter the room. “Sam Winchester, I presume?” She extended her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Sam took her hand and made an awkward nod, half bow. “Um, uh, pleasure."
“Charming,” Zara said with a laugh. She looked at Cas. “You were right, he does have such beautiful hair.”
Dean rolled his eyes and Zara motioned around the room. “As you can see, we’ve brought quite a few things. Would you mind having your attendants show mine to the cookery? We brought food for a feast.”
“Um, we don’t have attendants,” Cas said. He looked to Dean for help, and when Dean didn’t offer any assistance—Cas was the one who had gotten them into this mess—he said, “I can show you around.”
He headed off with Zara, her attendants holding baskets of food, and her bodyguard, who cast a suspicious look at Dean before following.
Dean glared at their retreating backs. “A feast? What the hell is happening?”
“She seems nice,” Sam commented.
“Nice? Did you miss the part where she’s engaged to Cas?”
“Yeah. Weird.” He started for the library. “I think we have a few books on Djinn. I wonder how binding their engagements are.”
Dean stared at his retreating back, then at the doorway where Cas and the Djinn had left through. “What the hell is going on?” he asked aloud.
A peek into the kitchen showed the Djinn plating food and cooking—Dean had to force himself to walk away before he started a war with them by barging in and demanding they stop touching his stove.
He followed Zara’s annoyingly regal voice to the hallway outside the bedrooms where Cas was apparently giving a tour to her and her bodyguard.
“How many people live here?” she asked as Dean walked over.
“Just the four of us,” Jack said.
Oh, so now Jack was in on it too. He smiled, noticing Dean. “Dean! You should try these cookies.” He held up something that looked suspiciously like what the Djinn had been putting on plates in the kitchen.
So now they were bribing his family with food? Crossing his arms, Dean said, “I don’t know if you noticed, Zara, but we weren’t exactly expecting you or your, uh, attendants. Just how long are you planning to stay here?”
“At least a week,” she answered, shattering any hope that they might be gone by 6pm. “Cas was just showing us all these extra bedrooms where we can stay.”
Dean glared at Cas, who avoided his eyes and motioned to Zara to follow him down the hallway. “Um, over here is where we keep archival documents,” he said.
Jack made to follow and Dean grabbed his elbow. “What’s her deal?” he asked, watching Zara and her bodyguard follow Cas down the hallway.
“What do you mean?” Jack asked, following his gaze.
“She barges in here with a dozen Djinn saying she’s engaged to Cas? Are they trying to infiltrate us? Can you tell if she’s evil?”
“She isn’t saying she’s engaged, she is engaged to Cas.” Jack finished off his cookie. “Cas told me, when he came back from Zara’s kingdom.”
“He told you?” And not me? he wanted to add.
Maybe it was implied on his face because Jack looked mildly uncomfortable. “I can tell, she isn’t evil. She’s friendly.”
“What else did Cas say about her?” Dean asked, trying not to sound too interested or concerned. No need to panic; Cas had only gotten engaged to obtain the Tree of Life fruit. Not like Cas was actually into the Queen.
“Cas said she was very nice, but that he was in a rush and didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. I don’t think he thought she would come after him.”
“Yeah, he looks real concerned,” Dean muttered, hearing Cas’ voice echo down the hallway along with Zara’s laughter.
Wiping crumbs off his hands, Jack said, “I’m gonna get another cookie.”
Stopping to grab his gun first, Dean followed Jack back to the kitchen. He swore, if the Djinn made a mess… But the room was empty and surprisingly clean for the amount of activity that had just been going on in there.
They followed the sound of voices to the library where the tables had been pushed together and covered in platters and dishes. Dean stopped in the doorway, staring.
“Cool!” Jack exclaimed, going over to a plate stacked high with cookies.
“I told them we could have the feast in here,” Sam said at Dean’s elbow and Dean startled.
“You told them—” Fuming, he glared at the Djinn talking to Jack. “What’s the verdict? How many do I gotta kill to get Cas out of this engagement?”
“Put the gun away, you don’t have to kill anyone. According to a book I found, as long as Zara agrees to call the engagement off before the wedding begins, Cas isn’t tied to her.” He gestured to the book shelves. “You know, this isn’t such a bad thing, them being here. We've never actually gotten to talk to any Djinn before, and the Men of Letters don’t have much information on them.”
“Of course you’d be a nerd about this,” Dean complained. He nodded at where Zara was entering the room talking with Cas. “Don’t think she’s gonna give Cas up that easily. She already seems pretty attached.”
“I’m sure Cas will talk to her, let her know this is all a misunderstanding. In the meantime, try to be friendly, okay? We can’t risk getting the Djinn on our bad side.”
“We could take them,” Dean said and Sam gave him his patented bitch face. He huffed. “Fine.”
A clinking noise drew Dean’s attention to where Zara was standing at the head of the table, tapping a glass with a spoon. The room grew quiet and she announced, “I want to say thank you to the Winchesters and my betrothed Castiel for so graciously welcoming us into their home. I hope this meal marks the beginning of a wonderful alliance between us Djinn and the hunters. Now let us eat!”
Everyone moved to take a seat, Zara gesturing for Cas to sit at her right hand side. Dean pointedly took a spot close by to keep an eye on her. “I think you’ll enjoy this dish,” Zara said, passing him a bowl. “Cas tells me you’re the cook here.”
“Uh—” Dean took the bowl and ladled what looked like mashed potatoes on his plate. “When’d he have time to tell you that?”
Zara waved her hand. “We talked some when he came to my kingdom. He told me all about you and your brother and why you needed the Tree of Life’s fruit. I must thank you for saving the world quite a few times.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam spoke up.
Cas had been telling Zara about him? Inconsequential stuff, like that he cooked? Gathering himself, he said, “You know, we’ve encountered plenty Djinn before you.” He ignored the death stare Sam shot at him. “Had to kill plenty too. You wanna tell me how I’m supposed to trust you? What’s stopping you from poisoning all of us?”
Sam cleared his throat and the bodyguard standing behind Zara’s chair glowered at Dean. Dean glared back.
“Those Djinn were not part of my kingdom,” Zara said solemnly. “Our most sacred law is to never bring anyone harm. If I had found those Djinn you speak of, they would’ve been brought to a swift justice.” She glanced at Cas. “I’ve already gained the trust of Castiel, I'd hoped I had your trust as well.”
“You do,” Sam said quickly, side-eying Dean. “Dean’s just being, uh, cautious.”
Cas nodded, and across the table, Jack tore into his meal, seemingly not worried at all that the Djinn had prepared it. Sam gave Dean a pointed look and Dean rolled his eyes. So, Zara and her crew weren’t evil and apparently didn’t mean them any harm. Didn’t mean Dean was going to fall over himself trying to be friends.
Ignoring Sam’s record-setting bitch face, he hesitantly started eating, finding to his annoyance that Zara was right. This food was pretty damn good.
He kept his mouth shut throughout the rest of dinner. Zara answered Sam’s questions about her kingdom, about the community the Djinn had created in the mountains, hidden from humans. According to her, it was “Heaven on Earth.”
Scowling, Dean drank from the goblet in front of him. Some kind of concoction he wasn’t sure he liked or not. Zara sure was laying it on thick. When she mentioned royal gardens, Dean saw the moment interest flared in Cas’ eyes.
For fuck’s sake. Of course Zara loved to garden. Bet she had a whole bee farm, or whatever they called those. Anything to get in Cas’ pants, no doubt.
He tried another sip from the goblet and grimaced. No, not good, he decided. Way too similar to the healthy crap Sam was always eating. Cas asked about the plants Zara had in her gardens, and Dean wondered why Cas had never planted a garden here at the bunker. He was always talking about the benefits of spending time in nature since, apparently, they didn’t get enough sunlight living in an underground bunker. Then again, Dean hadn’t ever really taken Cas’ talk about gardens and sustainability seriously. He categorized Cas’ interest in plants and bees as just another example of what a dork he was. A powerful angel of the Lord, but a dork all the same.
“I’m so happy to see you again,” Zara told Cas as a few of her attendants served what Dean guessed was some kind of Djinn desert, some weird pale pudding. She leaned forward and took one of Cas’ hands, and Dean clenched his own hands into fists under the table.
Zara stroked her thumb over Cas’ knuckles. “Now that our tribe is at peace with our warring siblings to the North, we are looking to expand relations with other kinds. Humans, for instance, and angels. I think you can be a strong ally in making that happen.”
“I can try,” Cas said. He looked uncomfortable, staring at her holding his hand, and Dean remembered sitting across him in a brothel, trying to get him laid on possibly his last night on Earth. Good times. Even after years of being on Earth and talking to women, Cas never lost the deer in the headlights look when one of them showed interest in him. The sight gave Dean a strange satisfaction. Zara had no chance with Cas.
She was going to give it her best shot, though. As if a feast wasn’t enough, after dinner, Zara presented Cas with gifts—ornate swords and knives with gilded handles, books detailing the Djinn history and folklore, robes and cloaks like the ones Zara and her entourage wore. Cas kept a polite smile on his face, but Dean saw the increasingly overwhelmed look in his eyes at the sheer amount of gifts.
Dean felt similarly overwhelmed and, somewhere along the line, he decided he’d had enough of Zara doing her damndest to impress Cas, touching his arm at any given chance. She had Sam and Jack under her spell too, it seemed, because neither of them were bothered by the ridiculous show she was putting on.
Even when he left the library and shut the door to his room, voices and laughter carried down the hallway. He was glad everyone else was having a good time and completely ignoring the absurdity of this situation. Cas? Engaged? And to royalty?
Seething, he sat on his bed and turned on the TV, trying to distract himself. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he realized he was watching an infomercial for a nonstick pan.
A knock on his door sounded and he swore under his breath. “Go away, Sam,” he called. If he had to get another lecture about hospitality…
“It’s just me.”
Dean straightened, said, “Come in,” and Cas opened the door, holding a grocery bag.
“I know, I know,” Dean said. “Don’t be rude to our guests, blah blah blah. I get it.”
“You were very rude to Zara,” Cas agreed, shutting the door behind him. “She’s only trying to be kind.”
Dean scoffed. “Yeah. Kind. That’s all.” Cas stared at him, cocking his head, and Dean rolled his eyes. Of fucking course Cas would be oblivious to Zara flirting with him. “You finally get through the fuckton of gifts she brought?”
Cas sighed. “It was too much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it all.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Sam will be up early organizing everything.” He nodded at the bag in Cas’ hand. “What’s that?”
“Oh, um,” Cas glanced down at it. “I thought you might want this.”
Dean took it from him and looked inside. The pie and beer he’d requested from the grocery store earlier that day. “Thanks,” he said.
Cas stepped closer to the bed, then hesitated. Dean motioned for him to sit and Cas did so on the edge of the bed, away from Dean’s legs. He glanced at the TV. “We should have another movie night soon. We haven’t had one in a long time.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He was pretty sure Cas was just trying to appease him, though he didn’t know why. He was the one who’d been rude to Zara, Cas’ “betrothed.”
He opened a beer and watched Cas out of the corner of his eye, heart starting to quicken a little, as it always did when he was alone with him. It was ridiculous, because he and Cas were just friends. Obviously. He didn’t know why he had to remind himself so often.
Cas twisted a loose thread on his trenchcoat sleeve. “Dean,” he started.
“Your girlfriend’s gonna start looking for you soon,” Dean interrupted. Cas lifted his head and squinted at him. “She sure is trying to impress you, going on and on about her kingdom.”
“It's a very beautiful place,” Cas said. “I wouldn’t mind visiting again. But I wouldn’t want to live there.” He studied him and Dean looked away, picked at lint on the comforter. “Dean, she may be trying to impress me, but I have no intention of marrying her, I never did. This whole situation is an unfortunate accident.”
Dean cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah. Of course.” Obviously. I know that. Didn’t mean Zara fawning over Cas didn’t make his skin crawl.
Cas looked like he wanted to say more, but he stood. “I suppose I should return to the library. Are you coming?”
“Uh, yeah, in a bit,”
Cas left and Dean stared at the closed door, then down at his pie. It shouldn’t matter what Cas did, who he was interested in, who flirted with him. Not like Dean had any say in the matter, not like they were dating or something—which was not an option. Because Cas was just a friend. His best friend, but a friend all the same.
Sighing, he picked up his pie and beer before he left his room. He was going to need them if he was going to have to watch Zara and Cas interact.
***
The next day, Zara and her entourage showed no signs of going home. Dean ran into several of them in the bathroom down the hall, two sitting in the kitchen talking to Jack, and four more in one of the archival rooms helping Sam—as Dean had suspected—catalogue Cas’ gifts.
Zara and Cas he found talking in the library, continuing a conversation from last night about agricultural practices in her kingdom. Apparently there was a lot to say on the topic. Last night, before going to bed, Zara had made some cheeky remark about waiting after the official wedding ceremony to consummate her and Cas’ marriage, and Dean had wanted to rip her head off. It only made things worse that apparently Cas wasn’t bothered by that remark, but of course not—Zara liked gardening and was cultured and had given him a million and one presents. There was no real reason to hate her, though that wouldn't stop Dean.
He paused in the library’s doorway, before Cas and Zara could spot him, and caught the tail end of what Zara was saying,
“I know that you are distanced from Heaven, as evidenced by you living with hunters.”
Dean bristled at the underlying meaning in her words—Cas had no place with him and Sam. They were just gross humans.
Zara continued, “We have many in my kingdom who have been displaced from their homes, who are no longer a part of their own. I think you will find us to be an accepting community.”
“I’m sure I would,” Cas said, and Dean’s heart sunk. “But Heaven hasn’t been my home in a long time. This is my home now.”
Dean felt a little stunned at his words. Cas said it so emphatically. As if the bunker wasn’t just a place he’d ended up, but somewhere he chose to be, wanted to be.
Making a U-turn, he grabbed his keys and jacket and took Baby out for a drive. Unfortunately, even the rushing wind through the windows and the blaring music on the radio couldn’t distract him from his thoughts.
Did Cas really think of the bunker as home? Here? With him and Sam and Jack? Well, of course, he told himself. Cas lived here, didn’t he?
It was more than that, though, Dean knew. Cas had rebelled against Heaven to help them. Stuck by their sides for years. If this wasn’t his home, then where else?
And who did Zara think she was? She thought Cas needed a home, that she could give him one. As if they weren’t good enough for him. Well, Dean knew Cas deserved a lot better, but they got along pretty well. Had been through enough shit together, at least.
Zara had met Cas only once; she hadn’t stopped apocalypses and faced demons with him. Dean knew Cas better than anyone, or so he liked to think. Cas knew him better than anyone, at least.
That’s what this is, he told himself. Why Zara annoyed him so much. He was just pissed that Zara thought she knew what was best for Cas. It didn’t matter that Cas seemed to get along well with her, that she had so much in common with him, that she wanted to marry him. Technically, if Cas wanted to marry her too, that wasn’t a problem either.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and glared out at the road. Not a problem.
When the sky was dark, he returned from his drive to a quiet bunker. Zara and her attendants were nowhere to be seen, and as he came down the stairs, Cas walked into the war room.
“Where were you?” he asked, stopping short.
Dean shrugged. “Just out for a drive.” He held out a plastic bag. “Here.”
Frowning, Cas took it from him and pulled out two packets of seeds. “Tomato seeds?” he asked, studying them.
“Just thought, I don’t know. You’re always talking about nature and whatever. You could start a garden outside. If you want.”
Cas looked up at him, some unreadable emotion on his face. Dean almost asked if a garden was still in the works, or if Cas had started to envision the Djinn gardens. “Figure even if you don’t eat you should contribute to dinner,” he said instead. “Start growing food.”
Cas smiled and looked back at the seeds. “Thank you, Dean. That's very thoughtful of you.”
Dean felt his face heat. Looking around, he asked, “Where’s her majesty?”
“She went to bed.”
“She try to seduce you?”
Cas cocked his head. “No. Why would she?”
“Uh, maybe because she’s trying to marry you.”
“Well, I’m not marrying her. I think she understands that.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“I’ve made my intentions clear, Dean.”
“Right,” Dean said, not convinced. Cas studied him, the familiar, peculiar squint to his eyes and Dean nearly squirmed. Turning, he said, “I’m going to bed.”
He passed Sam in the hallway near the bedrooms. “Hey,” he said, not stopping.
“Dean,” Sam called, and he turned. “You alright? Where were you all day?”
“Just wanted to get away from our million visitors. I’m fine.”
“Is, um… Is everything alright with you and Cas? He was wondering where you went.”
Dean crossed his arms. “We’re fine. I mean, he brought the Djinn here, but nothing we can do about it now.”
“Right. Um. Well, it’s just…” Sam looked like he was choosing his words carefully. “You’ve been acting… Well, acting kinda weird around Zara and Cas.” Dean stared at him. “Like you’re jealous or something.”
“I’m not fucking jealous! What the hell is there to be jealous about?”
Sam raised his hands. “I’m just telling you what I see.”
“Well, you’re fucking wrong.” Sam started to speak, but Dean ignored him and turned on his heel, continued to his room. “I’m not fucking jealous,” he muttered under his breath.
I’m not jealous, he repeated to himself the next day, watching Zara and Cas talk over breakfast. Or the next, which played out the same way: too many strangers wandering the hallways, Zara taking up all of Cas’ attention. Not that Dean needed Cas’ attention; he just didn’t see how Cas could be so oblivious to Zara’s intentions.
Unless Cas wasn’t oblivious and he was actually interested in Zara.
Absurd, Dean told himself. But the idea sat heavy in his stomach anyway. I’m not jealous, he told himself again. He was starting to sound less convincing.
***
“Hey where’s Cas?”
Zara looked up from where she and Sam were poring over books in the library. Sam frowned, looking around. “I haven’t seen him yet today.”
“If you find him, tell him to join us,” Zara said, “Sam and I are going through the Men of Letters’ books on the Djinn. I’m afraid there are quite a few historical inaccuracies.”
“Right, sure.” Leaving the library, Dean headed back through the hallways, wondering where Cas could’ve gone. He hadn’t left Zara’s side much in the five days she’d been here.
Maybe he’s finally gotten annoyed with her, he thought hopefully.
When his search through the bunker proved futile, Dean had a thought and headed outside. Sure enough, a few yards from the bunker door, next to a bag of potting soil and a tray of small green containers, Cas sat cross legged on the grass holding one of the seed packets Dean had bought for him.
“Hey,” Dean said and Cas looked up at him.
“Hello.” He began placing the seeds into the containers and Dean stood there awkwardly, watching. Maybe planting the seeds was a sign; maybe this meant Cas was planning to stay. Or maybe it meant Cas was going to take his tomato plants with him to Zara’s kingdom.
When Cas remained silent, Dean started turning away to leave him to his planting. “You can fill this tray with soil,” Cas spoke up, stopping him.
“Um, okay.” Sitting down next to him, Dean scooped soil out of the bag with a shovel and poured it carefully into the planting containers. Cas smoothed soil over the seeds he'd planted.
“Zara and Sam sure are getting along well,” Dean said after a few minutes of silence. “They’re going through the books in the library right now. Apparently there’s a lot of ‘inaccuracies’ in them.”
“Hmm.” There was a smudge of dirt on Cas’ chin that Dean was more than tempted to wipe off. Looking away, he poured more dirt in the containers before he was idiotic enough to try.
The weather was warm, a breeze rustling the leafy tree branches around them. Dean wished he could relax, but being in such close proximity to Cas was making his pulse race, per usual. Maybe even more so now, considering the way he’d been feeling lately. Not jealousy, he told himself. Just, concern. Friendly concern for Cas.
Unwittingly, he thought of the way Zara looked at Cas, spoke to him, touched him, and he gripped the shovel tighter in his hand. Okay. Fine. Maybe Sam was sorta right. Maybe he was a little jealous. It didn’t mean anything though.
Realizing Cas had stopped planting seeds, he glanced sideways at him. Cas was letting soil sift through his fingers, a crease between his brows and a seriousness in his gaze that didn’t match the gentle way his fingers moved through the dirt. Dean started to wonder if Cas had come out here to get away from everyone, if something was on his mind.
“You and your plants there wanna get a room?” he asked and, fuck, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. Words were hard.
Cas glanced at him, then his recently planted seeds, and dropped the dirt he was holding. Apropos of nothing, he said, “Zara said she’ll call off the engagement if I really want.”
Dean’s initial surge of relief faded away when Cas kept glaring at the soil. Since he was pretty sure the tomato seeds hadn’t done anything to bother him, he asked, suddenly nervous, “Do you want to call it off?”
“Yes, Dean. I don’t want to marry her.” Looking away, he brushed dirt from his hands.
“But?” Dean pressed.
Cas sighed. “But she wants me to come back with her. Just for a visit. And I don’t know if I should.” He reached for a watering can at his side. “Zara and the other members of her kingdom were very welcoming when I first visited, and I’ve enjoyed taking to Zara during her stay here, but we have work to do. I can’t just leave.”
They did have work to do, but that was nothing new. Dean looked around at the start of Cas’ garden, at the slight rise of dirt a few yards away that marked the bunker underground. Maybe this was home for Cas, but it couldn’t compare to a kingdom, not how Zara described it. Begrudgingly, he thought of Cas and Zara's similar interests and her descriptions of her kingdom and how perfect it would be for Cas.
“Maybe you should visit,” he said, hating the way the words felt in his mouth. Cas frowned at him and he added, “Not saying you should marry Zara, but sounds like a cool place.” One part of his brain screamed at him to shut up shut up shut up, but the other told him this was the mature thing to do. Give Cas the freedom to make up his own mind.
Cas nodded, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know.” he said quietly. “But if you really think so...”
“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, feeling a little sick. Ignoring the sensation, he pat Cas on the shoulder. “Whatever you want.”
Take that, Sam. Could a jealous person do this?
***
Encouraging Cas to leave with his Djinn friends may have been the mature thing to do, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell. Going back inside, Dean holed up into his room, not wanting to hear Zara’s gleeful excitement when Cas told her he was going back with her to her kingdom. He had a feeling Zara wasn’t going to be calling off the engagement anytime soon.
He didn’t emerge until that night, when sounds of conversation and activity had diminished outside his door. One thing he had to say for the Djinn, despite the number of them staying over, the bunker had never been cleaner and they’d all obeyed his command to stay out of the garage. Begrudgingly, he had to admit it wasn’t so bad having them over. If only Zara wasn’t actively trying to impress Cas.
How many days had they been here? They’d probably be leaving soon. His stomach twisted at the thought, knowing they would take Cas with them.
Just for a visit, he told himself. He’ll be back.
He went into the library looking for a drink and found Zara and Cas poring over books side by side.
“Oh, hey,” he said, stopping in the doorway.
Cas looked up at him, a worried expression on his face. “Are you alright, Dean? You disappeared all day.”
Why does everyone keep asking me that? Going to a side table, he poured himself a drink. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“I’m sure it must be exhausting hosting so many visitors all week,” Zara said. You don’t know the half of it, Dean thought. “But don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”
Dean turned, nearly spilling his whiskey. “Wait, what?”
Zara smiled at him. “We’re returning to my kingdom tomorrow.”
He thought he’d have a few more days… “Tomorrow?” he managed.
“Yes. I’m afraid I can’t stay forever, my people need me back home. And I know they will be waiting to hear news of my betrothed.” She pat Cas’ hand and Cas turned red.
“Oh. Right,” Dean managed. “Okay.”
He tried to say something else, then turned and left the room in a rush. Tomorrow. Cas was gonna leave and Dean had told him he should go.
The kitchen was empty and he sat at the table, stared at the glass in his hand.
I’m being an idiot, he thought. Cas can do whatever he wants, he doesn’t have to stay here. Probably been looking for an out for ages.
Needing to do something with his hands, he stood and grabbed ingredients from the cupboards. Without really thinking about it, he started making a pie, mixing the ingredients with more force than was necessary.
“Fucking ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, rolling out the pie dough. Tell Cas to go to a Djinn kingdom, that’s smart. With Zara of all people? He’s gonna come back officially married to her, talking about the royal gardens. Or just not come back at all.
“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing open the fridge door to grab the butter.
“What’re you doing?”
Dean wheeled around to see Sam standing in the doorway. “What’s it look like?” He slammed shut the fridge door. “Making a goddamn pie.”
“At…” Sam leaned forward to see the time on the microwave. “2:14am?”
“Is it a crime to make a pie at 2am? I had a craving.”
“What are you, pregnant?”
Dean flipped him off and Sam leaned on the doorway. “Don’t see why you’re in such a bad mood. You should be glad; Zara’s leaving tomorrow. You’ve been bitching all week about the ‘invasion’.”
Pausing in draping the pie crust dough over the filling, Dean stared at him. Glad? Was no one else seeing the problem here? “What, you going with them too? Packed your bags yet? Zara seems to have put you under her spell too.”
Sam frowned. “Dean, you don’t think Cas—“
“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said quickly. “He can do whatever he wants.”
“Yeah, but you got this all wrong.” Straightening from the doorway, Sam came to the island. “Cas isn’t going with the Djinn.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he isn’t! Why the hell would he?”
Oh, I don’t know, Dean thought. Maybe because Zara is fucking perfect for him and knows exactly what he wants and knows how to actually talk to him and not act like a goddamn idiot every time he’s in the room.
Furiously, he crimped the edges of the pie crust and accidentally tore a hole. “Son of a bitch!”
“Okay...” Sam said, watching him. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, but snap out of it. Cas isn’t going anywhere and maybe if you talked to him, you’d know that. Or even just stopped to think for a second.”
“Fuck off,” Dean said, and Sam threw up his hands.
“Fine,” he said, leaving the room. “But you’re freaking out over nothing.”
Dean glared at him and put his pie in the oven, sat back down. He’d done plenty of thinking and like it or not, it didn’t seem completely outside the realm of possibility that Cas would want to be with someone who understood him and appreciated him. Not that Dean didn’t understand or appreciate him, of course he did. Cas was his best friend and Cas had saved his life countless times and Cas was Cas—he was dorky and sarcastic and weird and considerate and too fucking earnest in a way that made Dean squirm while also being secretly jealous of how Cas could just say things and, and—
And fuck he wanted Cas to stay.
He didn’t know how long he stared at the table, but he startled when the timer beeped to announce his pie was done. He glanced at the oven, then looked around the empty room.
"I think I really like him," he said aloud.
Taking the pie out of the oven, Dean grabbed plates and silverware and headed to the library, hardly knowing what he was doing, just hoping to find Cas. Thankfully, Cas was still there, sitting alone.
“Made pie,” Dean announced eloquently, setting everything down.
Cas looked up and shut the book he was reading. “Oh.”
Tossing his oven mitts to the side, Dean cut a slice and wordlessly slid the plate to Cas. Cas stared at him like he had two heads. “Figured you might want to try it,” he said. “See what the molecules taste like.” In truth, he was stalling. He didn’t know what to say to Cas, how to share his recent epiphany that yes, he was jealous, and yes, he did like his best friend, and yes, he was panicking a little.
Cas looked like he had a few questions, but he took the plate. “Thank you,” he said.
“No problem.” Dean’s hands were sweating as he served himself his own slice and sat down across from Cas. He had been hungry before, but now his stomach clenched in anxiety, too many words rolling around in his head with no coherency.
Cas picked up his fork and Dean figured the best way to start was with the truth.
“Don’t go,” he blurted out.
Cas paused, fork poised midair. “What?”
Dean’s face flushed, but it was either speak now or regret it forever. “I know I said you should leave with Zara, but I didn’t mean it.”
Cas slowly lowered his fork, and it seemed speaking a few words broke down a wall in Dean’s mind because the rest came flooding out.
“I know I can be a real dick,” he said, “and I know I don’t know anything about gardening or agriculture, and I know I’ve been acting weird lately, but it’s because I really don’t want Zara to take you away from us. And maybe that’s selfish on my end—no, I know it is. But she doesn’t know you, really know you! And I do. I’ve known you forever and you’re my best friend and also maybe I wish we were more.” His face heated further, and he quickly added, “It’s alright if you don’t want more, that’s fine, just forget this conversation, but the main point is that I don’t want you to leave. I mean that. Please stay.”
Cas’ gaze had turned serious during Dean’s rambling, and Dean stopped there, heart pounding, mouth dry. He hadn’t expected to say all that, but he realized he meant what he’d said. Had meant all of it for a long time now, even if he’d been pretending not to. And maybe it was too late to tell Cas now. But he’d finally said it.
“Dean,” Cas said, and Dean braced himself for the I’m sorry, but... The, you suck and I’m leaving with Zara. Or even, you want more? That’s absurd. Why the hell would we ever be more than friends?
But what Cas said, instead, was, “I thought you wanted me to leave.”
Dean stared at him. And, yeah, he guessed he had told Cas to leave. But Cas should know by now that he was an idiot who usually said the wrong things. “I didn’t mean it,” he said. “I’ll go crazy if you leave, honest. I can’t…” He thought about how empty the bunker felt when Cas left for even a day, thought about how much it killed him to see Cas with Zara, and said, almost desperately, “I can’t do that. You leaving.”
Cas’ gaze had softened and his voice was quiet when he asked, “What do you mean by more?”
Dean’s heartbeat kicked up and he stared at his plate. Fuck. What did he mean? “I don’t know. Well, maybe I do. I just…” He took a deep breath and met Cas’ eyes. “I just want to be with you. Romantically, or whatever. More than just being friends.” He held Cas’ gaze even though his heart was pounding and a tiny voice in his brain screamed, abort mission, because it felt like such a relief to get the words out, albeit awkward and stilted.
Cas studied him and Dean’s pulse hammered in his chest as he waited for inevitable rejection. Instinct told him to backtrack, but now that he’d voiced everything, it seemed like torture to have to carry it all inside him again. He didn’t know how he’d done it for years.
Then Cas spoke. “I want more too,” he said, like it was the easiest thing to say in the world.
Dean stared at him. “You do?” he managed, and Cas nodded.
“I was never going to leave, Dean. This,” he gestured around them. “This is my home. Here with you. I want to be with you too.”
“Oh,” Dean breathed. Cas never was going to leave. He started to feel a little ridiculous for his panicked pie baking, but a smile tugged at the corner of Cas’ mouth and Dean started smiling too. Cas wanted more.
“Can I… Can I kiss you?” he asked and Cas nodded. He started pushing his chair back, then Dean was standing and meeting him by his chair.
Raising his hand, he touched Cas’ cheek. He was feeling a little dizzy from the remarkable change of events in so short a time, but the look in Cas’ eyes anchored him. This is what he wanted, had been wanting.
Cas’ eyes fell shut when he leaned down to kiss him, and Dean smiled a little before pressing his lips to Cas’, finally.
His brain short circuited a little when Cas kissed him back, and it was a second before he could process the way Cas was pressing up close to him, hands gripping at his shirt. Slipping his arms around Cas’ waist, he pulled him flush, chest to chest. Cas made a small noise in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s head spun.
They kissed until Dean couldn’t catch his breath, until he felt weak at the knees. He let out a breathless laugh when they broke apart, and Cas smiled at him.
“I’ve wanted more for a long time,” he said. “I didn’t think you did too.”
“Yeah, well,” Dean kissed him again, pausing to say, “I guess I just never admitted it to myself.”
“And you realized this while making pie?” Cas asked, gesturing to the dish on the table.
“Yeah,” Dean admitted, a little sheepishly. “But better late than never, right?”
“Right,” Cas said with a smile and kissed him.
Dean kissed him back, then took his hand, tugged him to the hallway. Cas followed easily, smiling, and Dean couldn’t resist kissing him again along the way.
They eventually made it to Dean’s bedroom, but Cas paused when Dean grabbed the doorknob. “Hold on.”
Letting go of Dean’s hand, he went to the room where Zara was staying and knocked on her door.
After a few moments, she opened it in a silk nightgown. “Why, hello, Castiel,” she said smiling. “What a surprise.”
“I need you to annul our engagement,” Cas said and Zara’s smile froze. Dean bit back a grin. “Now,” Cas added.
“I—Um. I thought we would discuss this further at a later time. Perhaps allow you more time to decide—”
“I’ve decided.” Cas motioned to Dean, and Zara leaned out to see him standing there. Dean waved. “My home is here.”
Zara blinked at them and Dean stepped forward. “What he means is,” he snaked his hand around Cas’ waist, “he’s taken.”
Cas grinned at him and Zara looked mildly stricken, staring back and forth between them. Then resignation spread over her features and she smiled a little. “I see.” Waving her hand, she said, “Well, then. Consider yourself free of our engagement.”
“Thank you,” Cas said.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do to repay your hospitality. And I won’t stand in the way of true love.” She started to shut her door, then paused, looking at Dean, “And since I seem to be single once again, please tell your brother he is welcome to visit my kingdom anytime.” With a wink, she shut her door, and Dean stared at it for a moment.
“I don’t wanna unpack all that.” He looked at Cas and smiled a little. “You sure you don’t wanna marry her?”
Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.” And, as if to prove his point, he kissed Dean again. Then he pulled back to meet Dean's eyes. "You haven't been jealous all this time, have you?"
"No," Dean said. Cas' eyes narrowed and Dean admitted, "Maybe a little." Okay, maybe a lot.
Tag List:
@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @mixtapecas @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @queen-rowenas (tagging you bc your post about the djinn queen sparked this idea :))
#PBExchangeReunion#profoundnet#dean is a little out of touch with his feelings#dean gets jealous#first kiss#sam knows what's up#expectingtofly writes
116 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello!!! im going on a very long trip at the end of april and I'm looking for some very long fics to download to keep me entertained! i dont care what they're about as long as there's no major character death or mentions of non-con. ur blog is a godsend ilysm and you do such a good job thank you so much 🙏
hi there!! i definitely have a lot of good lengthy fics i can recommend to you!
quote love unquote by newamsterdam
Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”
“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.
“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”
When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.
acceptance and denial by poteto
It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.
cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops
“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.
Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.
When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)
the weight of your hand by kamin
That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.
One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.
And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.
(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)
so take my hand (your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps
When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage. - Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.
distance makes the heart grow fonder (false) by dragontrappedinhumanskin
When Bakugo and Kirishima get hit by a quirk that forces them to literally stick together or face the less then desirable consequences, how the fuck is Bakugo supposed to keep his crush hidden?! Well, turns out he never needed to.
-- “Well, this fucking sucks, how are we supposed to train?!” "Really closely?"
perihelion by tauontauoff
Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.
During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.
fight me by mr_todoroki
Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.
Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.
-
Bakugou gets a new roommate.
quietly by chezka
“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”
He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.
“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”
“And now you do?”
everyone knows that cats are independent by purplepersnickety
Eijirou enjoys his job, working the graveyard shift at a 24/7 coffee shop. His daemon Riot is always there to keep him company, and he likes meeting the early-morning patrons and giving them the best possible kick-start to their day. It's been his routine for about a year now.
Then one day, a grouchy guy with a daemon in the form of a lion walks into the shop in the dead of night, and Eijirou decides to strike up a conversation with him.
punks not dead by wrunic
“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.
“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.
“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.
“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."
sent, delivered, read, loved by kiribakuhappiness
Kirishima E. [6.49pm]: ur okay for such an angry dude bakugou! :)
Bakugou K. [7.12pm]: FUCK YOU!
Kirishima E. [7.14pm]: haha! :D ttyl!
Bakugou K. [7.48pm]: FUCKING WHAT DO THOSE DUMB LETTERS MEAN???
Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: I JUST LOOKED IT UP DONT FUCKING TALK TO ME LATER!
Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: STOP TXTING ME!!!
- OR -
Bakugou's and Kirishima's relationship develops from classmates to friends to more, as told through their text conversations.
flicker by mr_todoroki
He was starting to feel depressed. Life was so uninteresting. It was so mundane and forgettable. He had no one to hang out with besides Kota, his family didn’t even live in the city.
He grew his hair out as some sort of rebellion, some sort of stand to make his life the slightest bit more interesting. But he could already feel himself giving in to the pressure of cutting it. He needed to work to live. Without a job, he’d truly have nothing.
OR
Kirishima never applied to UA, therefore never became a hero.
let’s get down to business by kjelfalconer
Katsuki Bakugou, one of the brightest rising stars on wall street, is in need of a new personal assistant. Again. Could Eijirou Kirishima finally be the one to last more than two months?
Katsuki's long suffering HR department sure hope so.
something about us by bigstupidjellyfish
nothing like being in highschool and having no idea how to deal with emotions
fireproof by inkbender
Four years after a classmate nobody seems to remember is kidnapped by the League of Villains, Kirishima drags an amnesiac hobo he found washed up on the beach into his apartment, attempts to teach him how to adult (with varying degrees of success), and discovers along the way that the line between heroism and villainy is quite fine indeed. Plot-divergent after episode 45, the Forest Training Camp arc.
blood riot by magicallee (alternatively)
Kirishima from a universe with no quirks is mind-swapped with an alternate universe version of himself where there are superpowers.
And in that universe he’s a super villain.
And Bakugou is the superhero who caught Evil-Kirishima and put him in prison.
blindside by drowclericpelor
“You’re the first guy friend I’ve had that I can just like, be friends with. You’re either the most unthirstiest boy ever...” Camie shrugged and made another wobbly illusion appear between her hands. It looked like a sparkly rainbow with the word ‘friendship’ beneath it, accompanied by what Bakugou assumed was supposed to be a twinkling sound effect, but it had a tinny quality to it and sounded far away. “...or I just ain’t got the kinda straw you like to ssssip.”
Carefully, Bakugou considered the strange turn this conversation had taken.
He had never been asked, point blank, if he was gay before. And he honestly had never thought about how he would respond. Lying about himself didn’t sit right with him. But he’d always wanted to wait until he was the number one hero - when he stood above everyone else - before coming out. Though he’d had times when he’d thought about doing it before then and had almost gone through with it once. But being the number one hero came first. It wouldn’t matter what people would say about it then as long as he’d risen to the top.
Bakugou knew his lack of a response would give Camie all the answers she needed.
flour power by wingsonghalo
“I’m telling you now, Shitty Hair,” the blonde growled, “I am not gonna play house with you. We will cart this stupid flour around for a week like the assignment says. But some of our idiot classmates are naming the thing and setting up ‘playdates’ and dressing it and I am not doing anything that stupid. Got it?”
Kirishima and Bakugou are paired up to take care of a flour sack for a week. It would be so simple, except nothing with Bakugou is ever simple. Also Kirishima might be kinda sorta completely head over heels for him.
sunchaser by chonideno
that feeling when you suddenly want to jump off a cliff for no reason but instead of a cliff it’s your best friend and instead of jumping it’s growing feelings out of nowhere
or how Bakugou has to try really hard not to throw everything to the wind, and Kirishima doesn't help
i also have a tag specifically for fics that reach somewhere between 30k-70k words long if you wanted to check that out as well! i hope you enjoy the fics here and that i was able to help, ily enjoy your trip!!! :D
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 17 second part
(Masterpost) (Previous Post) (Pinboard)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!!
Breaking Good
Wen Qing comes to visit Wen Ning in their backyard meth lab, and tells him that he fucked up a recipe, merely by taking a whiff of the concoction. She uses the approved "wave fumes toward self" way of smelling that you learn in high school science if you live in a country that believes in teaching science, which OP does not.
Wen Ning wants to know if they are going to have a feud, and she tells him there already is one. She tells explains to him that they're good Wens, not evil Wens, and that Jiang Cheng is fucked, and they should send the Jiangs away in the morning before Wen Chao comes around.
Wen Ning whines at her about all of this, shifting into little-brother persona and acting like he didn't just take down 40 of Wen Chao's soldiers in a single night. He does this same persona shifting in his later unlife, with Wei Wuxian. When there is trouble, he's extremely effective, and can even tail WWX and Lan Wangji without getting caught, but then he is hopeless when dealing with turnips or children.
Here, it seems like a version of Wei Wuxian's own little-brother persona, in which he pretends to be helpless so that his sister can take care of him.
#studyblr
Wei Wuxian comes into Wen Qing's head shop to ask her for medical books. He loves his brother so much he's volunteering for a research project. We've seen him be clever before; we've seen circumstantial evidence that he's a good student, but now we're going to see him actually buckling down and doing intellectual work.
Wen Qing thinks its hopeless and wants Wei Wuxian to get some rest. But he gives her puppydog eyes, so she sets him up in her library.
Wei Wuxian reads a huge pile of medical books and learns interesting things about the human body.
(more after the cut)
Hopefully he does not splotch ink all over them while he holds this wet brush directly over the page. Why does he even have a brush in his hand? Is he taking notes in the margin?
Wen Qing eventually tells him to take a break and go see Jiang Yanli.
Segmentation fault (core dumped)
Jiang Yanli is tending to Jiang Cheng, gently telling him to suck it up by citing their father, which is probably not the greatest idea.
Yanli's wearing dark blue with white and looks awesome. It's not Gusu Lan blue, but the blue and white is an interesting choice for the excruciating heart to heart they're about to have.
Wei Wuxian shows up looking terrible, or the Xiao Zhan version of terrible, i.e. handsome and a little scruffy. But also worn out, unhappy, and fragile.
Jiang Yanli wants him to rest, but he wants to find a way to repair Jiang Cheng's core, and his mind races, trying to think of where he can get books and who can help him. His thoughts instantly go to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji. His face lights up at the thought that Lan Wangji will help him, and he hops up, ready to dash off and find him.
The first time I watched this I was like, dude yes you’re in love, but you can’t just dash off to find Lan Wangji, not when there’s a war on. This time I was like, actually wow things would turn out a whole lot better if you got Lan Wangji to help you, instead of coming up with your own plan.
Mother Mother Can You Tell Me
Jiang Yanli tells him to slow his roll. He's pushing himself too hard and she's afraid he will collapse. Then Wei Wuxian comes out and says what's driving him: maybe all these disasters are his fault.
It's telling, I think, that he cites Madame Yu, not Jiang Cheng, in this moment, even though Jiang Cheng has blamed him much more thoroughly and consistently. He's talking about one mother figure, to another mother figure, and looking for absolution.
He super does not get what he's looking for.
Jiang Yanli slowly lets go of him and goes the fuck off. She asks, rhetorically, what he's to blame for, and then lists off all of the shit that's happened. She finishes up by saying, look at our situation; blaming won't help anything.
It's unclear, because language/translation, if her answer is "it doesn't matter who's to blame" I.E. "yes, it's your fault, but I'm letting it go" or if she is saying "how does blaming yourself help anything?" I.E. "it's not your fault, stop being a drama llama."
Her body language, though, seems pretty blameful - she lets go of him, yells at him, sits down and turns away from him. And his reaction is not one of shared grief, or of someone who is trying to get over himself; he's totally crushed, and he literally never unburdens himself to her again. Even when he asks her, much later, about love, he immediately backs out of the conversation.
There is no violence in this moment and her reaction is understandable, but this is kind of similar to that one time when his brother choked him in a beautiful field of grass, in order to make himself feel better.
Then she kind of relents and takes his hand, telling him that she needs him and reminding him that he promised that they will go back to Lotus Pier. I don't remember him promising this, but okay.
He puts his head on her lap and he cries, she cries, comatose Jiang Cheng cries; FUCK this episode.
Jiang Cheng manages to cry only one tear and does it on the side of his face that his siblings can't see because he's not going to give them the satisfaction of sharing this moment with him, I guess.
When Wei Wuxian puts his head on Jiang Yanli's lap, it's part of a ritual for them, that they both are comforted by; he does it again much later, after they return to Lotus Pier. But this ritual does not actually do anything to relieve his burdens. As a male adult, and the only Jiang Clan disciple with any abilities, it falls to him to save the clan, whatever it takes, and he is heavily aware of it.
Wen Qing comes along and sees the sweet part of this complicated Shijie-Shidi dynamic, and decides to help with Wei Wuxian's research project. When the trio had just lost their parents, gotten sick, been pursued by enemies, & had one of Yanli's little brothers horribly wounded, Wen Qing was like, eh, I'll do the doctor stuff but that's it. But lap-crying is another level.
Wen Qing: Nooo don't put your head on her knees I failed my saving throw
Group Project
Wen Qing goes and cleans up the mess in the library, putting everything in order and settling in to read systematically. Wen Qing probably has the prettiest bullet journal. (OP looks proudly at the 100 loose slips of paper and piles of random stuff on her own desk)
Wei Wuxian has shaved and rested and comes in with a tray of food for Wen Qing, and then goes to his table in the back to start working. He claims he made "porridge" for her and that she has to eat to gain strength, and she gives him an intrigued expression. This moment is just blatant het baiting.
In fact the food he brings her is clearly not porridge, which might just be a translation error, but also he totally can't cook, so it's not clear if he's joking and Yanli or Wen Ning made the food, or if this is just inedible.
The Things We Do For Love
Yanli is working in the meth lab and coughing a lot. Yanli's chronic illness is a sign of what's to come for Wei Wuxian, because strong cultivators don't get sick. Yet Yanli, as a physically vulnerable person, who has either a weak golden core, or none, is still intrinsically valuable. Her presence in this scene is a reminder that Jiang Cheng's life is not, actually, over; he just feels like it is.
While Yanli cooks the meth, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing have a study montage that is the equivalent of a training montage, except without "Eye of the Tiger" on the soundtrack.
Jiang Cheng remains unconscious. Apparently if you stick nails in the top of someone's head, you make them sleep, and in the back of their head, you turn them into part of your zombie army. Fortunately Wen Qing's aim is good. Jiang Cheng is looking devastatingly handsome as usual the TV version of unwell, and has grown a perfect Dorito-chip of stubble on his chin to go with his new 'stache.
Eventually Wei Wuxian changes back into his non-vampire robe and he finds the answer in an old scroll book. The Ikea instruction picture shows arrows going from the guy on the left to the guy on the right. Clearly it's not a great procedure for the guy on the left.
Wei Wuxian's face shows us exactly how not great.
Like walking in the rain and the snow and there’s no place to go and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying
He goes outside and gazes up at the trees and the sky as he contemplates the sacrifice that circumstance is forcing on him. He's not even making a choice at this point; his choice was made the moment he found the procedure. But it's going to be a tremendous loss for him. He values sword cultivation at least as much as Jiang Cheng does; he even fell in love with a boy over crossed swords. So he sits and just kind of comes to terms with this new understanding of his future. (Big gifs here)
Wen Qing finds him sitting, stunned, on the porch. She doesn't know what's up so she just sits quietly with him until he's ready to tell her.
She doesn't love the plan.
Thunder, Th-th-thunder
Wen Ning is bringing food up when he sees them arguing, and he is startled by situationally appropriate thunder and lightning. Having recently watched The Lost Tomb Reboot I've come to expect thunder and lighting to appear on cue in any possible situation, so the fact that this mini-storm clears right up again doesn't bother me.
What About You?
Wen Ning dashes inside to see what Mom and Dad are fighting about. They're having a polite shouting match because Wen Qing refuses to yank out Wei Wuxian's core.
Wen Qing: I hate the idea of harming you Wei Wuxian: I don’t even understand that sentence
Wei Wuxian doesn’t, of course, feel that he is important in any way, and ignores her concerned and appalled expressions in favor of telling her to just do it anyway. Amazingly, this does not convince her.
OP’s 177cm-tall son keeps telling her this
Then Wei Wuxian plays the "you know Jiang Cheng" card, which...I guess she does? Maybe he was chatting her up more than we saw in Cloud Recesses? He hasn't given her the comb or anything yet. Wei Wuxian explains that Jiang Cheng cares about gain and loss, and cultivation is his life. If he can only be ordinary the rest of his life will be ruined.
Wen Qing asks the question that nobody ever asks him: What about you?
Wei Wuxian has literally nothing to say to that, possibly because the question is so new to him.
Wen Ning doesn't know what's going on but comes squarely in on team Wei, of course, and begs his sister to Do The Thing. How fucking horrified is Wen Ning going to be when he learns what The Thing is? What he is personally going to help do to his beloved friend? Yikes.
Wen Qing caves, warning them that the chance of success is only 50 percent. Wei Wuxian is happy to take those odds.
Lan Wangji, projecting his voice from Episode 46: fifty percent, are you fucking kidding me?
Soundtrack: 1. Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham 2. The Things We Do For Love by 10cc 3. Thunder by Imagine Dragons
#fytheuntamed#the untamed#the untamed gifs#wen qing#wen ning#restless rewatch the untamed#canary3d-original#my gifs#episode 17#OMG this episode#god I miss lan wangji#warning: psychic pain
239 notes
·
View notes