#i’ve become a fiend for buttons
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teenbiology · 1 year ago
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i made i could take her (not in a fight) templates so i could make them into buttons to wear 😌
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merriclo · 3 months ago
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Tips on Accessorizing for Cheap !!
this has been said to death already, but find the cheapest second-hand or thrift store you can in your area, and become a fiend. there’s a lot of great jewelry that’s hidden in there
furthermore, lots of thrift stores will have auctions to get rid of what doesn’t sell. here, you can get actual buckets of things for like,, $5 USD. you can ask the staff if they host these, and they’ll let you know! in my experience, you either have to be 18+ or be accompanied by someone who is, so if you’re young, grab your favorite trusted adult and go get some shit for dirt cheap. (this doesn’t stop at accessories, actually, i got all of my dishes and some furniture and books this way. just make sure to clean it !!)
if you’re interested in using chains and such for accessories, get them at a hardware store!! they’ll be sturdy and last you a good amount of time, while also being much cheaper than anything you’d find at a store.
ask around!! see if anyone you know has things they want to get rid of that you can snatch up
follow tutorials from punks. the entire subculture is built on rebellion, and thus relies very little on consumption. i’ve seen punks use the waistbands of old jeans as bracelets before, and look sick as fuck while doing it. even if that’s not the style you’re aiming for, you can still take the principles and practices and apply it to your own style.
get versatile!! i’ve used necklaces as pseudo-belts and bracelets before, and have wrapped bracelets around hair-ties. scarves can be ribbons or belts or hair-ties, too!! everything has a second, secret usage
things that aren’t accessories can also very easily become accessories if you try hard enough. bottle tabs can be tied together to make shapes and charms (many tutorials and patterns can be found on Pinterest!) and random pieces of thread can become charms if you learn how to tie certain knots.
diy and crafts!! save bottle caps and turn them into pins, spare ribbons as bracelets or earring charms. dollar stores and walmarts and such have supplies to craft your own jewelry, too! lobster hooks, thread, beads, earring hooks, etc.! you can even bypass this by buying sturdy enough wire and making the earring hook yourself, if that’s your only option. tie buttons together, and you end up with a bracelet, tie even more and you have a necklace or a belt or whatever the hell you want.
if you get some bobby pins and then hot glue charms or whatever onto them, you get hair clips!! just try and make sure the charm isn’t too heavy so it’ll stay in your hair.
libraries and other public services might have jewelry making or knitting or crocheting nights where you can learn how to craft and take what you create back home for free!! check that out (and also support your local library. get a library card i beg of you.)
you can prolong cheaply made jewelry (especially rings) by coating it in a layer of clear nail polish. it’ll stop it from turning your fingers green, and provide a protective layer between the metal and any sweat or water it might come into contact with
kids sections of stores. i am not even playing right now, go get yourself some hair clips meant for 6 year olds. if you figure out how to style it, it’ll be perfect.
remember that you can use and do literally whatever the fuck you want, so long as you like how you look. loop dental floss through buttons and wrap it around your wrist, or make a charm out of knots and hang it on the zipper of your jacket, or cut off the straps off of an old unusable bag and make it a choker. have fun with it
i’m American, so some of these might not translate well to other countries. if you have any advice to add, please do!!
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spidercookie18 · 1 year ago
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I've had this idea in my head that Paul uses M&M tubes to keep his joints in! They're perfect, they start out having candy AND they're air tight! If you can make anything out of that for the love of all that lives, you gotta.
Summary: Paul is a fiend, and makes it grandpa Emerson's problem Word Count: 2.5k
Great ask! I love this one a lot, you’re gonna get a crack response, but it’s a good response. Cause I’m smoking a crack pipe full of these fruity little bitches!
So, I’ve been toying with the idea of the boys going to COSTCO; hear me out. Any TLB AU where everyone survives, means Lucy will take the boys in; no if’s and’s or buts about it. She is the best 80’s mom ever, she’s for sure adopting them. Which makes the whole David x Michael thing weird bc they would be…stepbrothers? Whatever, vampire relationships are complicated. She would also have to be feeding like 10 people. Hold on, lets actually count. It’s the boys, that’s 4 + Lucy, Sam, Michael, Grandpa E, another 4, then Star, and Laddie, which is 2 AND maybe Max, and the Frog brothers… depending on how that goes. Anyways, that’s still at LEAST 10 mouths to feed.
So, Lucy, being the mom that she is, would get a COSTCO membership to get all the things that her new, big family would need. Now, you’re probably wondering, “Ari, where the fuck are you going with this?”
WELL
Lucy would get a COSTCO card so she could get these rambunctious fuckers what they need. Max would foot the bill, and everyone would be ‘happy’ about it and shut up forever.  (FYI, Costco in the 90’s looked more like a Home Depot, which I hate).
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Lucy notices, IMMEDIATELY that her new sons have some interesting snack choices to say the least.
David is waaay too into eggs, to the point where she doesn’t know if he’s even eating them, or if he’s just hiding them somewhere. Marko goes through wheels of cheese like they’re apples. Dwayne likes… pickled fish and marshmallows. And Paul… well, she’s concerned for all of them, but she’s most concerned for Paul.
He’s quickly becoming her favorite. He always helps with chores, even if he doesn’t want to.  He changes light bulbs for her, even catches and releases the bugs that get in the house for her. Sure, he’s screaming and yelling the whole time it takes him to get the damn bug outside, but it’s the thought that counts. He's a mama’s boy through and through.
Lucy started worrying for him though, the second she noticed he would go through candy so quickly.  And not just go through candy, he would go through the damn candy. Paul could eat a whole box of candy, within a few minutes. When she got trick or treat candy for one Halloween, Paul went through several hundreds of dollars’ worth of candy within a few hours. Specifically, she noticed, he would tear through the mini m&m tubes like nobodys business.
Which, if you asked Paul, he’d say it really was, “nobody’s business.”
She would buy the giant COSTCO boxes that had 24 tubes and he would just walk off with the whole box. After he’d done that three or four times, she brought it up to David.
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Lucy: I’m worried that Paul is… going to make himself sick.
David: *Leaning against the kitchen counter* We’ve been worrying about that for a lot longer than you have, he’s just like that.
Lucy: No, I mean, he keeps stealing these… little… *gestures with her hands* tubes of candy and I don’t know what he’s doing with them.
David: Oh, *rubs his chin* well that would be concerning… if it wasn’t Paul.
Lucy: Can you just make sure he’s not eating all that candy, can you boys process sugar fine like that?
David: *shrugs*
Michael: *walks into the kitchen, and grabs something from the fridge*
Lucy: OH, oh, Michael, *waving her hands* tell David about the thing.
Michael: *closes the fridge* Oh, no, not this again. *To David* Is she bothering you with this? *To Lucy, pointing with the soda bottle* Are you bothering him with this?
David: *snorts* This is a real hot button issue, eh?
Lucy: I’m worried about him, is no one else worried about him?
Michael: He’s a weird guy, mom. He’s just like that.
Lucy: But-
Michael: Mom if it’s that big of a deal why don’t you ask him about it?
Lucy: I TRY. But every time I try to ask him about it, he bolts. And, *pointing at Michael and David* with all that damn candy, I might add.
David: *laughing* Yeaah, that sounds like Paul.
Michael: Don’t encourage her.
Lucy: *glares at Michael*
David: Listen Ms. E, I wouldn’t worry about it making him sick. But if it means that much to ya, I’ll talk to him about it.
Lucy: Thank you, David, *pats his back*
David: *already halfway out the room* okay byeeeeeeeeee
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What lucy didn’t know, was while, yes, Paul was a fiend for sugar, he was hoarding the m&m tubes for a much more nefarious reason.
Paul was like a pack rat. Step one foot into the cave, and you’d think it was just a mangled mess of shit. But, if you looked closely, you’d notice all the little things hidden away.
Paul had been, for the last several months, eating, emptying, and refilling the plastic, airtight containers with grandpa E’s marijuana. He had been sneakily snatching the sticky green buds in the middle of the night and stashing them away for safe smoking.
Albeit, not as sneaky as he thought. Cause, on more than one occasion, grandpa E had been waiting outside in the garden with the spray hose for Paul. Whenever Paul would slosh into the cave the boys knew he got hosed again, and they’d laugh at his ass.
But, Paul, the ever persistent, learned grandpa E’s habits, and how to better sneak the weed away undetected. He’d crawl on his belly across the roof of the house with a bag slung across his shoulder (think army style, when they make them crawl through the mud; that’s Paul). He would peep his little face over the side of the roof and watch for grandpa in the garden. The first few nights, grandpa E stood outside for a few hours with the hose, waiting for the wild blond.
His persistence paid off, after a few days, grandpa E thought it was safe, and Paul snatched up his goodies. Paul thought he was being sneaky by hovering above the ground and not leaving boot prints; but the next morning, when Lucy, Sam, and Michael were having breakfast and they heard a string of old man cuss words, they knew ‘smokey the bandit’ struck again. Lucy didn’t believe for a second that sweet Paul could steal from her dad, so she chalked it up to her dad smoking too much and being old.
The next night when the boys went to visit for ‘pizza night’ grandpa E railed into Paul. He would not stop ranting and raving about how he was, “going to hog tie his ass,” and, “turn him into the ugliest taxidermyed vampire there ever was.”  Lucy gave the boys some money and sent them to get the pizza to let her dad cool down, but when grandpa E insisted he didn’t want Paul back in the house until he apologized, she told the boys to just go out for pizza.
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Marko: Paul, you asshole, just apologize so we can go back.
Paul: If I apologize, then that proves I did it- which I didn’t.
Dwayne: Dude, we all know it was you.
Paul: Hey, he’s getting old, that’s 100% not my problem.
David: You know, if you strip the stalk, that kinda makes it more obvious, dumbass.
Sam: You shoulda heard him this morning,
Michael: Yea, it was pretty bad. I’ve never heard him blow up like that.
David: Really? What happened
Sam: He went crazy! He wouldn’t stop screaming!
Marko: *giggling*
Sam: It’s not funny dude, okay? He said words I’ve never even heard before!
Dwayne: Like what? ‘Dagnabbit?’
David: *snorts*
Michael: *Pulling Paul’s jacket by the sleeve* You know if he catches you, you’re dead.
Paul: I’m already dead, also, I’m so not scared of your ‘pappy’.
Michael: Hey, it was a fair warning.
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After that, grandpa E went through with operation: catch that flying asshole. He brewed pots of coffee to stay up all night and traded in his hose for a shotgun. Grandpa E sat outside with a chair and his shotgun across his lap, just waiting for Paul to show.
Paul, the ever persistent, waited over a week for his prize. Lucy watched from the kitchen window, as her dad sat outside and stared at the night sky. Her, and Sam were beginning to worry about his mental state. He’d been forcing himself to stay away for hours, and whenever he did fall asleep, Paul would chuck pebbles at him to see if he’d gone to bed for good. Grandpa E would immediately wake up, startled, and one time he’d rang a shot off into the night. Lucy scolded him, saying what if he’d hit a bird, or one of the boys. And his response was, “good! Those fuckers need to learn to stop stealing my stuff!”
One night, after almost 10 nights, there was an opening.
Paul laid on his back, staring at the night sky, rolling the little grey pebble around between his fingers. He was getting sick of waiting, and if he wasn’t worried about what Lucy thought of him, he would have just gone and taken the whole damn garden already. He stared up at the stars, watching the clouds roll in.
Clouds.
He listened to the water as it began to fall softly onto the roof. The pitter-patter came slowly, then faster, then it came in a downpour.
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Grandpa E: LUCY!
Lucy:
Grandpa E: LUUUCYYYY!
Lucy: What dad?
Grandpa E: Lucy! Bring me the umbrella!
Lucy: No Dad!
Grandpa E: WHAT?! But it’s a downpour!
Lucy: If you want the umbrella, you gotta come get it yourself!
*Lucy had had enough of her dad’s shenanigans and was determined to get him to come inside from the cold. She hoped this rainstorm was the wakeup call he needed. *
Grandpa E:
Grandpa E: SAM! MICHAEL!
Lucy: They’re not here dad!
Grandpa E: LUCY, YOU BRING ME THAT DAMN UMBRELLA BEFORE I CATCH MY DEATH OUT HERE!
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She was done entertaining the notion that Paul, her sweet, kind, always there to help anyone, Paul, was stealing from her dad. He would have to come inside one way or another.
Grandpa E grumbled as his button-up shirt started to get soaked.
Paul turned to lay on his belly and watched his nemesis shift around, trying to determine what to do next. “Go inside, you old bastard,” Paul mumbled to himself. The rain was coming down hard now, if it wasn’t for his vampire eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see anything through the rain. Paul could stay out in the cold and wet forever if he needed to, but he knew grandpa E had to go inside, “go in,” Paul insisted.
He watched as grandpa E pulled the shotgun off his lap and scampered inside. He could hear him mumble something about an umbrella as he ran through the screen door into the kitchen.
Now was his chance!
Paul quickly flew down to the garden. He planted both feet firmly on the ground, what did it matter if his boot prints were in the ground, grandpa knew he was there, and also the rain would wash them out. Paul’s boots squished under him in the wet, burbly mud, he squatted down and grabbed the plant from the base of the stalk and ripped it out of the ground. The roots of the plant dripping down with mud and rain. He repeated his process a few more times. “Fucking old bastard,” he grumbled, as he pulled another plant up by the roots, “making me come out here in the - *grunts* FUCKING RAIN.”
He grabbed a few stalks, tucked them under the strap of his bag and flew off into the night.
Grandpa E heard the “woo-hoo” as he was reaching for the screen door. He ran outside, looking for the umbrella was a flop, it took him too long to search in the cramped closet, so he gave up and decided to return to his green patch of goodness. He scampered back to the kitchen and saw a hurried mess of hair shifting around in the garden.
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Grandpa E: Look! There he is! *Pointing out the window*
Lucy: *Walking to the window* Dad, I don’t see anything?
Grandpa E: What do you mean?! He’s right there!
Lucy: *straining her eyes* Dad, it’s a downpour, I can’t see anything.
Grandpa E: *running to the screen door* I got your ass now!
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But, as we all know, by the time he got out there, it was too late. Grandpa E, stared at the ground in defeat. He watched as the holes where the stalks used to be burbled and filled with mud and water. The boot prints were fading before his eyes. He knew no one would ever believe him now, and he knew Paul knew that too.
If he didn’t hate him so much by this point, he’d might have applauded him. But for now, he just fell to his knees, the mud sloshing under his pajama pants, and he wailed into the night.
Paul laughed the whole way back to the cave.
When he finally landed, he happily stomped down into the cave. He leaves of the stalks rustling, mud dripping off the stalks and the roots.
His boots squelched under his weight and the mud tracked in behind him.
The other boys and Michael watched as the cocky, rain washed out blond walked into the cave.
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Marko: No fucking way.
Dwayne: Oh, Paul you didn’t
David: Atta boy!
Michael: Oooooh, I’m not here.
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Paul hummed happily to himself; he ignored his brothers’ jeers as he walked to his alcove. He slung the bag off around his head set the stalks down next to his bean bag chair. He sat down on the tattered, ratty thing with an oomph. He looked at the stalks, he’d clean em and prep em for use later. Paul intended to pluck the seeds out and plant them near the cave, entirely done with being ‘smokey the bandit’.
He shifted to one side and reached a hand under the bag. He rifled around under the chair for a second before he produced what he was reaching for, an m&m tube. He patted his jacket for a lighter and popped open the blue plastic container. He wafted the open container under his nose and turned the tube upside down. A joint slid out into his open palm.
Paul plucked the twisted white paper and set it in his mouth. He flicked the lighter on and lit the end. He took a deep inhale and laid back further in his bean bag chair, still ignoring his brothers half-assed remarks.  
Victory never tasted so sweet.
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tnc-n3cl · 1 year ago
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Final Fantasy Inspired Spear!
So um, I made a Final Fantasy themed spear...
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The little side blades move!
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Trident mode! There's a button in those two brown sections which control the direction blades point, while the brown sections rotate to twist the blade around.
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Half trident mode?
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Now I'm just showing off. (Side note, This is actually more or less how I was picturing the side blade positions before going with the rotating blades.)
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Some finer details. Why all the bird imagery? Cause this thing's wielded by a bird guy (more on that later)!
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It was even longer...
Check below the cut for a little fic blurb! (Yes, I've got a Final Fantasy fic idea brewing, but at least 75% of my creative energy is still focused on my LoZ fic, which should be getting some updates before the end of the year if all goes well.) [Content warning: fantasy violence, non-specific level of graphicness]
In a large interior space made of stone, a man in pure white magitek armor welding a sword faces off against an avian humanoid wielding a large, elaborate spear.  The man is a Templar of the Glabados Church, the avian is a warrior of the Agixyl (Ah-geese-ill) people.
The Agixyl’s large crest, fully extended much like a cockatoo’s, clearly indicates that this warrior is male.  His plumage, mostly obscured by his predominantly leather armor with metal plates in vital areas, is reddish-brown and white with heavy banding on his wings.  His arms and legs are covered in yellow scales past the elbows and knees, respectively.  His sharply hooked, yellow beak gives away his people’s predatory nature.
His eyes are green, and his breathing is heavy, indicating that he’s on the ropes.  He grips his spear in both hands.  The weapon is mostly a golden color, strongly contrasting the deadly silver blades.  The main tip of the spear is wide and roughly triangular, joined to the shaft by roughly diamond shaped component.  On either side of this are single edged blades, joined to the connector by rounded pins.
These side blades edges are strangely pointed towards the wielder, and stick out straight from the connector.  Just below that are two brown segments of the handle with small red triangular decorations visible.  There’s a groove in these segments, with a small, rounded, orange colored protrusion.
The middle of the shaft is oddly misshapen and a darker color, more goldenrod than gold.  The buttcap of the weapon is shaped much like a bird, with the wings and tail containing razor sharp blades.  The decorative, alternating goldenrod and white lines mimic the plumage of a bird as well.  So does the fact that the “top” of the buttcap is dark with a lighter underside.
“I’ve got you now, fiend!” The Templar shouts, his voice distorted and almost mechanical sounding by his magitek armor.
The Agixyl warrior parries the Templar’s attacks with both the side blades and the shaft of his spear.  The impact of the sword against spear generates the distinct sound of metal striking metal.  The warrior’s spear is made entirely from metal!
The warrior is pushed back and squawks before muttering, “Guess I’ve got no choice.”
The warrior holds up his left hand, revealing a ring on his middle finger.  The ring has a large dark gem in the center surrounded by a circle of 12 smaller gems of varying colors.  The gem in the center suddenly glows with brilliant white light as the warrior flaps his wings and becomes airborne.
The Templar mutters, “A fragment of the Crystal?!”  His reverence and confusion understandable in spite of the distortion caused by his armor.
As the warrior hovers over him, he quickly flicks the protrusion of both brown segments of his spear forward.  The side blades rapidly fold towards the spear tip and it almost looks like a trident now.
Then the ring’s magic is activated and the warrior is surrounded by an array of ghostly weapons of different types.  As he grips his spear with both hands he taunts, “Now you’re done for!”
Suddenly several of the ghostly weapons point towards the Templar and rush him, followed quickly by the warrior.
The Templar tries in vain to follow the warrior’s movements as he’s struck from all sides by the sacred power of the Armiger.
Within seconds its over and the Templar is on his knees.  The warrior dismisses the Armiger and stands before the Templar.
Breathlessly the Templar asks, “Who are you?  What are you?”
The warrior’s crest folds against his head as he replies, “My name is Faros Tylas, and I am the one who will end your corrupt organization’s tyranny once and for all!” And with that Faros runs the Templar through.
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hotdoghotdiggidydog · 3 years ago
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Bruised & Used
Bottom!Natasha x Top!Reader x Top!Wanda
Summary: Natasha likes to push your buttons. What happens when she gets more than she bargained for?
Warnings: Smut, choking, Safe Word, Spanking, Hair Pulling, GxG (if that even needs a warning?), Crying, Orgasm Denial, Subspace
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Natasha’s POV:
Today’s Wanda’s birthday which means Stark’s throwing a party. Y/N has been very mean and hasn’t touched me for the last 3 weeks. She told me she would touch me when she felt I deserved it, but it’s been too long and I need a release. So, I’ve designed a plan with Wanda.
Third Person POV:
Natasha walks down stairs to join the party. She’s wearing a tight dark green dress with nothing under. It stops just below her butt meaning that if she were to move a certain way or position herself in a way, people would see.
She spots Wanda across the room sitting on the sofa as she talks to Rhodey. Natasha looks around the room trying to find you, and spots you at the bar talking to Carol.
Everyone knows Carol has a thing for you and Natasha hates it. She hates that you were too oblivious to notice the way her hand would stay on your arm a little too long, or the way she looked you up and down while biting her lip.
Natasha could feel herself already becoming upset.
“Tasha, come here love.” Natasha hears Wanda’s voice in her head.
She makes her way over to Wanda and gets pulled into her lap. Wanda wraps her arms around Natasha’s waist, pulling her closer into her. Rhodey has moved his attention from Wanda and turns to Thor, talking about some mission.
“Are you sure you want to do this Nat?” Wanda asks, using one hand to stroke Natasha’s thigh.
“Yeah, look at her. She hasn’t even noticed I’ve come downstairs.” Natasha turns in Wanda’s arms to look at her and crosses her arms with a frown on her face.
“I see that, but are you sure making her jealous is the answer?” Wanda asks, concerned for her best friend. (Maybe more than her best fiend?) She knows how you can be when it comes to Natasha going against her rules.
“I don’t care what’s the right answer. I’m tired of her thinking she can just ignore me. Punishment or not.” Natasha says.
“Okay.” Wanda pushes a piece of Natasha’s hair behind her ear and leans in and starts kissing her neck. This elicits a gasp from Natasha.
“Is this okay?” Wanda asks while still peppering kisses along her neck.
“Yes.” Natasha can’t help but feel needy. She hasn’t been touched in what felt like forever.
Wanda settles her hand on Natasha’s upper thigh, running it up and down, squeezing the flesh occasionally. This causes Natasha to buck her hips unintentionally.
Natasha feels embarrassed at her reactions to Wanda’s small actions.
“Natasha it’s just me,” Wanda chuckles, sucking on the spot that makes Natasha let out a small moan. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Wanda trails her hand up further, making her way up Natasha’s dress.
“Wanda,” Natasha let’s out a whine. She feels pathetic. Wanda hasn’t even touched her properly and she already can feel the tightening in her lower stomach.
“She’s looking over here. She doesn’t seem too happy.” Wanda sees you over at the bar, still talking to Carol. She looks Natasha up and down taking a notice of Wanda’s hand on her thigh, below her dress. She sees you let out a chuckle as you take a sip of your drink and roll your eyes and continue your conversation with Carol.
Y/N doesn’t mind sharing Natasha with Wanda. She has plenty times before, seeing how much Wanda care about her. However, she already knows what Natasha’s trying to do. So, she’s not going to let the red head get satisfaction from her losing control.
“Never mind, she doesn’t look like she really cares.” Wanda moves her hands up further, feeling the heat radiating from Natasha’s center. “No underwear?” She finally touched Natasha where she needs it.
Natasha quickly hides her face in Wanda’s neck and lets out a small moan. “Please Wanda.” She bucks her hips, trying to earn more friction against Wanda’s finger that’s currently circling her clit at a torturing slow pace.
“Jesus Nat, you’re soaked.” Wanda speeds up her movements, only a little. She starts kissing Natasha’s chest where Natasha’s dress cuts low, exposing a lot of her cleavage.
“Wanda, please. I need it.” Natasha whines. She knows she sounds desperate but she can’t seem to help it.
“I see that. What do you need Tasha?” Wanda asks, a small smirk plastered on her face as she cups Natasha’s chin, forcing the red head to make eye contact. Natasha’s eyes are blown, almost black. Her hair is a little out of place creating a natural messy look. Her baby hairs stick to her hair with sweat.
“I need you.” Natasha whimpers as Wanda’s hand completely stops.
“That’s not how you ask for something, sweet girl. You know how, so let’s hear it.”
“I need you to fuck me Wanda, please.” Natasha puts her face back in Wanda’s neck. She feels Wanda’s hand meet with her center again, this time, circling her entrance.
“Good girl.” Wanda kisses Natasha’s cheek as she slowly slides two fingers in her. Natasha let’s out a moan.
Wanda makes sure to look around the dim room, and is relieved to find that no body noticed them except for you.
You and Wanda make eye contact and for a second, Wanda’s scared you may kill her on the spot for allowing Natasha to break a rule. However, she’s instantly relieved when she sees you with a smirk on your face as you motion for her to continue.
Wanda leans closer, places a kiss right behind Natashas ear and whispers, “looks like your girlfriend wants us to put on a show.”
Natasha goes to look towards you, put is instantly denied when Wanda wraps her hand around her hand around her neck, and pulls her in for a kiss.
Wanda’s fingers pick up pace and Natasha almost falls apart when she feels Wanda’s fingers curl, hitting her sweet spot. Natasha let’s out a shudder and bites on her lip trying to keep her noises in.
“You’re so responsive. How long has it been since she’s touched you?” Wanda asks, she continues to hit that spot that makes dots cloud her vision.
“3 weeks.” Natasha chokes out, overwhelmed by pleasure. “Please. I need to cum. Please let me cum Wands.” Natasha’s pleading, tears in her eyes as she tries to hold off her orgasm.
“I don’t think Y/N would appreciate you coming without her permission.” Wanda slows her movements, and is rewarded by a whine from Natasha and tears that fall from her eyes.
“I don’t care what she thinks. Please don’t stop.” Natasha’s thoughts are completely distorted, only focused on her release.
Wanda shrugs and continues her movements. Natasha’s eyes close and her eyebrows furrows, signaling she’s close.
Right as Natasha’s about to cum, she is pulled from Wanda’s lap by her hair. Natasha let’s out a whine.
Y/N grasps Natasha by the arm once she’s standing on shakey legs. Before dragging Natasha to the nearest bathroom, she gives Wanda a high five, both of them exchanging a chuckle. Wanda knew Natasha was in deep trouble the second Your eyes met Nat’s.
Once you both enter the bathroom, you immediately push Natasha into the door, wrapping your hand around her neck. You are quick to lock the door.
“You’re such a needy slut aren’t you? Do you like whoring yourself around in front of everyone? You like the way Wanda touched you? Don’t lie to me, or you’ll make this even worst for yourself.” You move your hand off of her neck.
Natasha gasps for air and coughs from the sudden intake of air. “No.” Natasha knows she made a mistake as soon as she hears you let out a chuckle.
Before she can blink, she’s pushed against the counter, her hip bones hitting the edge. You push her body down so that she’s leaned over the surface.
“What color baby?” You rub her backside.
“Green.” At her response, you immediately push her dress up and get to work. At the first hit, Natasha let’s out a cry. Damn you and your strength.
The second hit has Natasha trying to wiggle her way out of your grasp. You are quick to grab both of her arms, moving them behind her back, grasping her wrists making it impossible for her to get away.
“No, please. I’m sorry. Pl-” she’s cut off by the next hit you land to her butt. This one makes her body jerk forward and her let out a sob. She has tears streaming down her face as they fall down to the counter.
“You know what to say if you want it to stop.” You take a moment to give her an opportunity to tap out, rubbing her backside. After a moment you continue to hit her.
“I can’t believe you would do something so stupid. You’re lucky I don’t have Wanda come in here and watch how red I can make your ass.” Natasha only lets out a sob in return.
Natasha was close to tapping out many times. She didn’t like to say the word, only have said it once before. She hated disappointing you. (Even though you’ve told her a million times that safe wording would never make you upset.)
On your 28th hit, her legs give out for a moment almost making her fall.
You land another one to her, she screams. When you’re about to do it again, you hear her yell out through sobs, “Red. Red.”
At those words, you immediately let go of her wrists and turn her around and pull her into your chest. You move your hand to rub her back side, but is stopped by Natasha letting out a cry and moving your hand right before your hand can touch her.
“Shhh, it’s okay baby. I got you. You did so good. I’m so proud of you for telling me when it got too much. You’re such a good girl.” Natasha continues to sob in your chest.
“No I’m not. I’m bad. I’m sorry for being bad, mommy. I won’t do it again. ‘M sorry.” Natasha tried to hide her face further into your chest as she tightly holds your shirt in her hands.
At her words, your eyebrows furrow. It’s unusual for Natasha to slip far enough in submission to call you mommy. You cup her face, wanting her to look at you. However, she keeps her eyes focused on the ground.
“Look at me love.” Natasha looks up and meets your eyes. “You aren’t bad. You just made a mistake. You are my good girl. You always will be.” Natasha still has tears falling out of her eyes. “Okay baby, Cmon, no more tears. Lets go to the room. I’ll have Wanda bring up some water.”
Natasha wipes away her tears, and tried to compose herself. The aching gets worst when she feels you move her dress back down, covering her. She starts to feel tears well up in her eyes again. You understand her distress as you look at your work. Her butt and top thighs are covered with red and purple dots in places where her blood vessels broke.
“Shhh, I know pretty girl. Let’s get you upstairs. Cmon.” You walk out the bathroom with Natasha holding onto your arm for dear life. Her gaze on the ground as she feels some of the avenger’s eyes on them. Everyone knew what was happening in the bathroom once they saw Natasha being dragged into it.
They knew better than to comment on anything. You make eye contact with Wanda, motioning for her to get some water. Wanda nods and gets to action and heads into the kitchen.
You head up the stairs with Natasha still clinging onto you. Once you arrive into your room, Natasha immediately goes to the bed and lays down on her stomach, careful to not further hurt her butt.
As she lays down, you get a clear view of her center, noticing how puffy and swollen it is. She’s so wet it has leaked on the inside of her thighs.
“Aww baby. I’m so sorry love. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. I’ll take care of you.” You make your way over to her and undress her. She never leaves her position, making sure her back doesn’t touch anything. As you go to set her clothes in the dirty clothes basket, the door opens.
Wanda let’s out a gasp as she enters the room. “Holy shit Y/N. Did you have to hit her that hard?!” She makes her way over to Natasha who in between sleep and awake. Wanda sits beside Natasha’s head and runs her hands through her red locks. The side of her head is wet from the tears the streamed from the side of her face when she was leaned over the counter.
“I didn’t mean to hit her that hard. I just wanted to see what her limits were. I stopped once she called safe word.” You make your way to Natasha, laying next to her, she immediately cuddles into you.
Wanda gets up from the bed and goes to get lotion. Natasha sees what Wanda has in her hands and immediately cuddles further into you and let’s out a whine.
“Cmon Tasha, I know you don’t like this part but it has to be done.” Wanda says. She has tended to Natasha’s after math a couple times before. She was used to seeing Natasha’s body. She has gotten permission from you to have her own fun with Natasha many times before.
Wanda gathers lotion into her hands and softly touches Natasha. She coos when Natasha let’s out a soft cry, and moves her hand to cover her butt.
“Has she talked at all?” Wanda asks you while she rubs the lotion onto Natasha.
“Ummm, only a little bit.” You stroke Natashas back, running you fingertips along her spine. Sometimes Natasha got so far into her sub space, she’s in a sort of trance and becomes completely lost in contentment, only seeking comfort from either you or Wanda.
“Nat, baby. Can you hear me?” You tap Natasha’s shoulder, trying to get her attention. No response.
You and Wanda look at each other confused and concerned. Natasha has always answered when asked a question.
You softly cup her chin, “are you okay, love?” For a moment her eyes move from eye to eye until she comes back to reality and nods her head.
You and Wanda let out a relieved sigh. Wanda wipes her hands on a nearby towel. She moves back into the bed. She moves towards Nat and lays her hand on hers. Natasha immediately squeezes it, scared she’ll leave.
They lay in silence for a couple minutes until Natasha let’s out whimpers and starts to wiggle around. “Natasha baby, what’s wrong?” Natasha just lets a whine and cuddles further into you.
Wanda looks down at Natasha’s body and immediately finds the problem. “She needs you.” Wanda moves your attention to where hers is. You both see Natasha’s thighs pressed together as she tries to seek friction.
“Aww baby I’m so sorry. I forgot about your reward. Watch out so I can help you.” You try to move her so that you can get out from under her, but she just hold you tighter and moves her hand from Wanda’s, holding your shirt with both of her hands.
“Okay okay. I’ll stay here.” You move your attention towards Wanda, “can you go get her favorite from the closet?”
Wanda nods and goes to retrieve it. She comes back with a wand vibrator.
She separates Natasha’s legs, and sets the vibrator on the bed. When she sees Natasha’s center, she’s speechless. “Holy shit. She’s dripping onto the bed.” Neither of you have seen her this wet.
Wanda softly touches Natasha’s clit as best as she can while she’s lying on her stomach on top of you. The softest touch has Natasha crying in relief. She’s finally getting touched.
“Shhh it’s okay sweet girl, we got you.” Wanda grabs the vibrator and places it between Natasha’s legs. She turns it on the lowest setting.
Natasha is immediately overtaken by pleasure. She’s already on the edge. She pleadingly up to you, asking for permission.
“You can come whenever you want baby.” With that, Natasha let’s out cries of pleasure as she’s finally granted what she’s wanted for the past three weeks.
Wanda moves the vibrator away for a moment. Letting Natasha recover. Then, she places it back against her center and turns up the setting. Natasha is letting out gasps, legs slightly shaking.
You run your hands through her hair, knowing it makes her relax. She’s moaning like crazy at this point. Wanda turns the setting up one more and Natasha cums almost immediately. Her vision goes completely white and her hearing goes away. She’s completely taken over by pleasure. Her eyes are rolled to the back of her head, her mouth open in a silent scream. She’s never had an orgasm this intense and this different.
Little did Natasha know it was because she’s squirted for the first time ever. Wanda and you look to each other in awe as you see Natasha’s release spilling onto the bed. You look to Natasha and see that she’s passed out, tears stain her cheeks.
You and Wanda take action. You move Natasha into Wanda’s arms as you quickly get changed into pajamas. You strip the blankets on the bed and put them in the washing machine you had in your walk in closet. You grab wipes from the bathroom and start to clean Natasha.
You then grab an extra blanket and wrap it around Natasha’s naked body. You take her from Wanda’s arms and you both walk to Wanda’s room.
Once you enter, you lay Natasha onto her bed, making sure her butt doesn’t get hit by anything. You make your way into bed next to her and pull the blanket over you both. Wanda gets dressed in pajamas and makes her way next to the both of you on the other side of the sleeping girl.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you turn light to 5% please?” The light go almost completely out, barely able to tell that there was a bit of light.
You and Wanda immediately fall asleep.
There was an unspoken rule between the two of you. Natasha wasn’t only yours or hers. She was equally both of yours, even if Natasha was in a relationship with only you. It was an interesting dynamic, but one that you three understood.
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obeymeluv · 4 years ago
Text
You Steal the Boys’ Clothes
Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.
Lucifer
It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time
Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.
He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there
With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).
He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)
Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.
It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.
Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear
Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes
And the ex-angel falls all over again.
He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled
Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less
Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room
Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.
Mammon
With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!
He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket
Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went
As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it
There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill
In HIS jacket
Mammon’s brain shuts down.
HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!
FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!
“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”
It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat
Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring
You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder
The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.
“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully
Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)
Leviathan
It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.
He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns
You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really
Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform
His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.
Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)
Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.
No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!
His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!
Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother
He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.
All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire
SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.
Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness
He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.
You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.
He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.
Satan
His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least
Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.
You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it
It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence
He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye
The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS
You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.
Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?
Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.
Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?
There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.
Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.
If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.
Asmodeus
He’s the type to let you think you stole something
Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it
Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!
It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because
This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time
Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over
Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER
A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)
Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe
Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself
Spoils you rotten with compliments
This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face
He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).
You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram
Beelzebub
Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers
You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.
He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,
Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though
You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to
Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.
In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.
Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed
You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck
DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket
Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt
Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket
“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”
It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it
Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.
He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.
Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly
Belphegor
He’s another one that’s hard to steal from
You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys
Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)
You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!
Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed
It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest
You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him
It’s not the same but it’s close enough
Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer
He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.
You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.
Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.
“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.
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intheticklecloset · 4 years ago
Text
My Hero Academia Sentence Starters #61-70
A collection of the MHA sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.
~~~
61) Lee Shinsou, Ler Deku
“If you give it back I might stop tickling you.” Deku had Shinsou straddled from behind, his fingers hooked into the dip of his hips, making the poor purple-haired boy screech and thrash and laugh his guts out, pounding the floor.
“I DOHOHOHOHON’T HAHAHAHAHAVE IT ANYMOHOHOHOHORE!!”
This only served to make Deku tickle harder. “Then where did you put it?”
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Dear god, who knew Izuku had it in him to be so ruthless?! Shinsou felt like he was going to die laughing if he didn’t stop soon. “LEHEHEHEHET ME GO!! I’LL GEHEHEHEHEHET IT BAHAHAHAHAHACK I PROMISE!!”
“The issue is that you took it in the first place.” Deku had to work to make his voice sound cold, but from his position behind Shinsou it was easy to let his big smile free. He was enjoying playing with his friend this way. “What were you thinking?”
“I WAHAHAHAHANTED TO MEHEHEHEHESS WITH YOU!! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!!”
“Oh? Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? And since you messed with me, now I’m going to mess with you.” Deku settled himself in further, never letting up on what he knew was his friend’s death spot. He smirked, unable to help the slight playfulness that entered his tone as he said, “I think this is a fair punishment for stealing my favorite All Might hoodie. Don’t you, Shinsou?”
“PLEASE, MIDORIYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Shinsou was practically crying, he was laughing so hard. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I’M SOHOHOHOHOHORRY!!”
“Don’t worry, I’m not really mad. Unless you actually ruined it?”
“I DIHIHIHIHIHIHIDN’T!! I JUST HID IT I SWEHEHEHEHEAR!!”
Deku chuckled, finally letting up on his deadly assault. “Then you have five minutes to get it back to me before I really punish you for taking it in the first place.”
*
62) Lee Sero, Ler Todoroki
“You scared me!” Sero gasped, clutching one hand to his chest. He was pinned against the wall with Todoroki standing right in front of him. Moments before his boyfriend had had a crazy look in his eyes, but now those same eyes were all smiles and mischief. “Don’t do that again!”
“Sorry,” Todoroki chuckled. “I was just trying to fluster you.”
“There are better ways to do that,” Sero muttered.
Todoroki scribbled his fingers against his belly without warning. “Like tickling?”
“Gahk! Pfft – wahahahahahait!” Sero squealed, squirming against the wall. “No fahahahahair!”
“What? This is flustering, isn’t it? And far less scary.”
“I dohohohohohon’t know about thahahahahat!”
“Ah, well.” Todoroki moved up to his ribs. “I guess I can’t win every time.”
“Stahahahahahap!” Sero pleaded, curling up as best he could while still on his feet. “You jeheheheherk – you’re luhuhuhuhuhucky I’m so nihihihihice!”
“Oh?”
“Not everyohohohohone would l-lehehehehet you tickle thehehehem!”
“You’re right.” Todoroki smiled genuinely, pulling Sero into a tickly hug, fingers teasing his waistline now. “I’m lucky you’re so willing to be my victim.”
“Your whahahahahahahat?! Hohohohohold on—”
Todoroki chuckled. “Relax. I’ll stop once you say the safe word. You may not realize you haven’t actually said it yet.”
Sero whined through his giggles, flushing red. “Jeheheheheherk.”
“Only for you, babe.”
*
63) Lee Bakugou, Ler Kirishima
“You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s so ticklish,” Kirishima muttered.
Bakugou nearly tripped over his own feet. He clutched his coffee cup hard, nearly popping the lid and spilling the hot liquid all over his hand. “What?”
Kiri glanced at him, saw how flustered he’d become so quickly, and smirked. “I said, you’re really cocky for someone so ticklish. Don’t you think you should choose your words more carefully? Especially around someone so prone to tickling you into submission?”
“I – I don’t submit to anyone!” Bakugou shouted, storming on ahead, ears red as tomatoes.
Kiri smirked and trailed lazily after him.
Later that morning, once they’d retired to Kiri’s dorm room for a quick study session, the redhead came up behind Bakugou and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his neck. “Hey.”
Bakugou’s heart raced. He loved when Kiri kissed his neck like that. “Hey.”
“Remember what I said to you earlier?”
“About what?”
Kiri curled his fingers inwards, tickling the blonde’s ribs while still holding him close. “About you being so ticklish.”
“GAH!! Kiri nahahahahahahahaha!” Bakugou had no hope of stopping the giggles that poured out of him. He twisted and squirmed and tried to grab his boyfriend in retaliation, but Kirishima merely hardened his body and then pushed him over to the bed, shoving him face-first onto the mattress and drilling deep into his weak spot. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU JERK, I HAHAHAHAHATE YOU!!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kiri grinned as he settled in, enjoying his boyfriend’s screaming laughter. “I love you, too.”
*
64) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou
“You’ve been sitting here so much, you’ve got dust on yourself,” Shinsou teased, waving his feather duster over Deku’s neck and ears from behind.
“EEEK!!” Deku squealed, shooting up out of his chair and whirling around, dropping his textbook on the floor.
For a moment, there was total silence.
Then Shinsou grinned wickedly. “Oh?”
“I – I know what you’re thinking,” Deku stammered, already backing away. “And I wouldn’t recommend it!”
“Why? Too ticklish?”
“No!”
Shinsou lunged, waving his feather duster at his boyfriend, who shrieked and scrambled to the door. “Get back here!”
“No!”
Bam. Shinsou chuckled as Deku stopped dead in his tracks, body going limp.
“Midoriya~” He hummed. “Be a dear and lay down on the floor for me.”
Deku obeyed. Shinsou climbed on top of him, grabbing his arms and pulling them down so he could sit on them, pinning his boyfriend effectively before releasing his hold on his mind. He enjoyed the look of confusion followed by panic when his partner realized what had happened.
Shinsou waved his feather duster teasingly. “Gotcha.”
“Y-You – you cheated!” Deku cried moments before he found himself sputtering and giggling and trying in vain to scrunch up his shoulders as the plumes of the duster brushed over his ears, neck, and cheeks, tickling him lightly. “Tohohohohoshi! Nohohohohohoho!”
“Toshi yes~” Shinsou smiled. “You’ve been hard at work all day. I think it’s about time you took a break and let your mind relax.”
Deku whimpered, but truthfully, he was grateful for the reprieve. “Meheheheeheanie…”
“You’ll thank me later.” The duster brushed under his chin, drawing another squeal. Shinsou felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “My ticklish little Izuku.”
*
65) Lee Kaminari, Ler Bakugou
“What happens if I tickle you…here?” Bakugou honed in on a spot just to the left of Denki’s belly button, smiling in surprised satisfaction when he actually got a squeak and some light giggles. “Oh? Wasn’t expecting that, sparks.”
Denki pressed his lips together, trying to muffle his mirth for all of five seconds before Bakugou found the same spot on the other side of his belly button, and the electric blonde absolutely melted at the touch, snickering quietly.
“You like this spot?” Bakugou teased, digging in a little more.
Denki whined. “Nohohohohot so hahahahahard.”
Bakugou lightened the pressure, intrigued when his friend’s face flushed bright pink and his giggles seemed to never want to stop. All from the softest of touches. “Fascinating. This a fluff spot?”
“Yehehehehehehes.” Denki crossed his arms over his face, purposely exposing himself even more to the light tickling. He squirmed a little. “Gohohohohohod, I lohohohohohohove this.”
Bakugou bit his lip to keep from saying something snarky. It was obvious that his friend was having a blast being tickled right now. Despite himself, he didn’t want to end that by being his usual smart-aleck self. Instead he mused, “How long can you take it, I wonder?”
“Forehehehehever.”
“Forever is a long time.” Bakugou chuckled. “Want to see if you actually can?”
Denki looked at him, his eyes hopeful. “Wohohohohould you?”
“Yeah, why not?” The atomic blonde settled in, smirking. “I torture you all the time. I can be nice just this once.”
*
66) Lee Kirishima, Ler Bakugou
“I’ve never heard you squeal like that!” Bakugou laughed. He gripped Kiri’s wrists and leaned down to blow another raspberry into the crook of his neck. “I want to hear it again!”
“Nonono – Katsuki, plehehe-HEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Kiri shrieked, laughter being ripped from him uncontrollably with the placement of another raspberry right where his neck was most ticklish. Of course Bakugou had found that spot. Of course he had. “GEHEHEHEHEHET OFF!!”
“You’re so cute when you’re panicked like this,” Bakugou chuckled, smirking down at him.
Kiri bristled. “I’m not panicked. It just really tickles!”
“So you won’t mind if I threaten to do it again.” The blonde grinned when Kiri’s eyes widened in alarm. “See? I’ve got you cornered, Ei~”
“S-Shut up!” Kiri tried to use his quirk to gain extra strength to push Bakugou away, but his boyfriend quickly blew a raspberry at the base of his ribs, making him lose all concentration and throw his head back laughing again. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK!!”
“You love it.”
“SO WHAHAHAHAHAT?!” Kirishima gasped for breath when it was over, leftover giggles spilling from his lips. “It s-stihihihihill tihihickles really bahahad!”
Bakugou leaned down to the crook of his neck again, ignoring the redhead’s desperate pleas for mercy. He began nibbling on the spot he’d raspberried a couple of times, smiling when Kiri dissolved into desperate, squeaky giggles. “You’re so dang cute when you’re being tickled, Ei.”
“Ugh,” Kiri groaned, but he went limp and gave up the fight, surrendering to his mirth. “Shuhuhuhuhut up, Kahahahatsuki.”
*
67) Lee Kirishima, Ler Todoroki
“No! You fiend!” Kirishima screeched, pulling desperately at the ice shackles that bound his wrists behind him when not five seconds ago he’d been free to fight back. Todoroki smirked and pushed him down so he was lying on the couch, now helpless to do anything but take what he dished out. “I trusted you!”
“That was your first mistake.” Todoroki straddled his hips and wiggled his fingers teasingly. “Now, where to begin?”
“Y-You jerk!” Kiri sputtered, but he was grinning uncontrollably already. “Just because you know I love it doesn’t mean you get to tie me up—”
“I can release you if you’d like.” Todoroki cocked his head. “I just thought this would make it easier for both of us.”
Kiri’s cheeks became as red as his hair. He averted his eyes. “Well, I…I didn’t say I didn’t want it, so…”
Todoroki grabbed his ribs. “That’s what I thought.”
“AIEE!! Nahahahahahahaha!” Kiri’s heart raced as he tossed back and forth and tugged at his newfound shackles but couldn’t do anything to stop Todoroki from tickling him to pieces. “Oh nohohohohohoho! Wahahahahahait, wait!”
“Is the reality of your situation setting in now?” Todoroki couldn’t help but smile himself, having a ton of fun making Kiri desperate like this. He lived for these moments, those frantic giggles. He wanted nothing more than to keep pulling them from his friend all afternoon. Todoroki trailed his fingers lightly across Kiri’s belly. “Are you realizing there’s nothing you can do to stop me anymore?”
Kiri whimpered. “Plehehehehease be cahahahareful.”
“Always. And remember there’s a safe word. But until then…” Todoroki went back to drilling into his ribs, pulling a loud scream of laughter from Kirishima. “…I’m going to tickle you until you’re begging me for mercy.”
*
68) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou
“I love seeing you laugh,” Shinsou said happily, digging each of his pointer fingers into Deku’s hip bones.
His partner flopped around helplessly, frantic giggles and laughter spilling out of him in waves. He tried pushing Shinsou away but he would always find a new spot to tickle until his hip was unprotected again. This had been going on for a few minutes by now and Deku was slowly losing his mind – and his will to fight back.
“Plehehehehehease,” he whimpered, his hysterics so out of control that he was already on the verge of mirthful tears. “Toshiehehehehehehe!”
“You’re so cute.” Shinsou growled out the last word playfully, falling on top of Deku and pressing kisses to his neck while he lazily trailed his fingers up and down his sides.
Deku jerked beneath him, giggling anew and trying to twist his head away. “Nohohohohoho! Not thahahahahahat! Toshi!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle~” Shinsou teased into his ear. “Is my Izuku just super, super ticklish? I think he is~”
“Toshiiiiii!” Deku squealed, trying to retaliate by digging into his partner’s sides as well. “Plehehehehehease!”
“Oh, you want more?” Shinsou grabbed his wrists and shoved them above his head, further trapping him as he resumed his tickly kissing attack. “It sure seems like it. Why else would you provoke me like that?”
“Nononono I’m sohohohohohohohorry!” Deku kicked his legs, giggles turning to laughter the longer those light tickles drove him up the wall. “Toshi, hahahahahave mehehehehehercy!”
“But you’re just so cute!” Shinsou nuzzled the space under his ear, trying to hide his own beaming smile and blushing face in his boyfriend’s hysterics. “How can I possibly stop now?”
*
69) Lee Bakugou, Ler Bakusquad
“We’re not stopping until you admit it!”
“EEYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADMIT WHAHAHAHAT, YOU IHIHIHIHIDIOTS?!” Bakugou screamed, thrashing beneath the weight of four of his friends at once, fingers digging into all of his worst spots in tandem, making him howl with laughter he couldn’t hold back if he tried. To top it off, Denki had even had the nerve to blindfold him, so he couldn’t see what was coming next. All he could do was focus on the tickling, and it was driving him crazy much faster than it usually did. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT ALREADYEHEHEHEHEHE!!”
“That you like it!” Mina giggled. “Obviously!”
“Yeah, Baku-bro!” Denki added. “You’re totally having a blast, just admit it!”
“I AHAHAHAHAM NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT!!”
Sero laughed. “Yeah, you are. Tell him, Kirishima!”
Kiri was – of course – closest to his ears, which made it unfairly easy for him to lean down and tease Bakugou right up close and personal. “Come on, Kats. You can’t honestly expect us to believe you hate this?”
“I DO HAHAHAHAHAHATE IT, YOU F-FRIHIHIHIHICKING KNOHOHOHOW-IT-AHAHAHAHALL!”
“Then why haven’t you said ‘red’ yet?”
Bakugou knew his cheeks were turning pink, and he hated himself for it. He growled around another string of laugher. “SHUHUHUHUHUHUHUT UP!!”
“Admit it,” Kiri said, “or we’ll tickle it out of you.”
“Y-YOHOHOHOHOU CAHAHAHAHAN’T MAKE ME ADMIHIHIHIT ANYTHING, YOU—!!” The blonde suddenly dissolved into silent hysterics when his death spot was targeted – that small space between his underarms and upper ribs. His fighting resolve crumbled in seconds, and as soon as he was able to breathe again he cried, “OKAYOKAY I LIHIHIHIHIHIKE BEHEHEHEING TICKLED JUST STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”
All at once the tickling fingers left his body, and the blindfold was removed from his eyes. He was mortified to realize he’d been crying with laughter for who knew how long. His friends all enveloped him in a giant hug, and much as he hated to admit it, he sank into their embrace easily, knowing his secret was safe with them.
*
70) Lee Amajiki, Ler Kirishima
“I love seeing you laugh!”
Amajiki tried to curl up defensively, but it was difficult when Kirishima’s arms were wrapped around him from behind, gently digging into his sides and ribs. Not super ticklish spots, but ticklish enough to weaken him and make him giggle. He whimpered, embarrassed. “Plehehehehease…”
“Aww, but you deserve to be happy, Amajiki.” Kiri moved one hand into his underarm, smiling when his friend jerked sharply and barked out an actual laugh, followed immediately by trying to stifle any further mirth that threatened to spill. “Come on, man. Let it out! You’ve earned it.”
“Nohohohohohoho.”
“Fine, then. Where’s your worst spot?”
Amajiki gasped. “W-Whahahahat? I’m nohohohohot tehehehelling you that!”
“Either you tell me, or I’ll find it myself and tickle you to tears.” Kiri smirked. “Well? What will it be, buddy?”
Amajiki opened his mouth to reply, then clamped it shut again, shaking his head defiantly. Kiri shrugged, then went into full-on attack mode, using his quirk to push his friend to the ground, fingers flying everywhere, determined to find a spot that would really make him let loose.
It only took him a minute to try his thighs, and when Amajiki let out a loud squeal, the redhead stayed right where he was and dug in. “Oh, is it here? Is this your spot? Hmm? Tickle, tickle, tickle!”
“Nohohohohohohohoho!” Amajiki pleaded, his giggles bordering on laughter. He squirmed desperately. “Plehehehehehease, Kirishima!”
“I told you I’d tickle you to tears if you didn’t spill.” Kiri settled himself in on Amajiki’s legs, squeezing and pinching and scribbling over his thighs relentlessly, beyond satisfied when his normally shy, quiet friend burst into loud laughter. “Now it’s time to keep my word~”
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albertasunrise · 4 years ago
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Mistakes - Chapter 2
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Part 1
Summary: You’d known it was a bad idea to get involved with Javier Peña. You were just another notch on his bedpost but you were a notch he kept revisiting. You know you should have stopped it, declined his offers to rock your world but you couldn’t and now you had to deal with the consequences. Consequences that you knew he would refuse to accept.
Warnings: References to sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Blood and Injury, Descriptions of Childbirth
Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader
~
You were in the final month of your pregnancy. Things with Javier had been going well. You’d moved in. Decorated the room that was to be the nursery and the two of you had even started to date exclusively. Things were looking up. Connie and Steve had adopted a little girl, Olivia and you were delighted to have the chance to practice a little before your own came along, maternal instincts in full flow.
‘How's that pump working for you?’ Connie asked as she sipped her wine, watching as you finished fastening Olivia’s baby grow.
‘Wonderful thank you.’ You replied as you picked her up and rested her on your hip, grinning as she planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek ‘I don’t remember reading in any of the books you gave me that I would start lactating before she even came.’ You grumbled ‘Javi’s devastated that they’re now too sensitive for him to touch.’
‘Are you two still… you know?’
‘God I am like a sex fiend.’ You chuckled before nuzzling Olivia’s cheek ‘I thought that I wouldn't be in the mood at this point but I dunno, my hormones are just in overdrive and I want him all the time.’
‘And knowing Javi, he’s happy to provide.’
‘You cannot tell him I told you this.’ You said, your tone suddenly becoming serious.
‘What?’
‘He’s got a serious pregnancy kink.’
‘No… really?’ Connie asked as she covered her dropped jaw with her hand.
‘God yeah.’ You replied ‘The filth that comes out of his mouth about how “sexy I am, round with his baby”. He gets hornier and hornier the bigger I get.'
‘That's just…’
‘Unbelievable?’
‘I just can’t believe it.’
‘Well, it's true.’ You giggled ‘But you’re sworn to secrecy.’ You warned, pointing a single finger in her direction.
‘My lips are sealed.’ She replied, mimicking pulling a zip with her thumb and pointer finger ‘How are things? Things good?’
‘Yeah actually.’ You confirmed as you walked towards Connie’s couch and sat yourself down, positioning Olivia on your lap ‘He’s been really great. Literally runs whenever I need him. He was great when I was forced to take Maternity leave early.’
‘Oh, how are you feeling?’ Connie inquired, rubbing your arm.
‘I have good and bad days. Who knew that morning sickness was something that could come back?’ You paused, shrugging your shoulders. ‘I thought once I stopped suffering from it that that was it.’
‘Pregnancy affects everyone differently.’ Said Connie sweetly ‘But when she arrives it’ll all be worth it.’
‘Definitely.’ You replied, beaming at her as you bounced Olivia on your knee.
~
You were worried when Javier didn’t come home that night. He didn’t call. Not even Steve knew where he was. You lay there, cradling your bump, wondering if Javi was okay. If he was dead in a ditch somewhere. You didn’t sleep. You lay there staring at the ceiling until finally, in the early hours of the morning, Javier finally crawled into bed.
‘Where were you?’ You growled, taking him by surprise.
‘Did I wake you?’ He asked as he kissed you softly but you didn't return it.
‘No.’ You spat, eyes not leaving the spot they’d fixed to on the ceiling ‘Where were you?’
‘I was with Carillo.’ He replied, his tone a little nervous ‘We were staking out a potential bolt hole.’ He paused ‘Ran later than I was expecting.’
‘You could have called Javier.’ You growled, finally turning your head to look at him.
‘I left my phone in the office.’ He replied gingerly and you scoffed at that ‘Baby I’m sorry.’
‘What if I’d gone into labour Javi?’ You asked ‘What then?’
‘You’re not due for another few weeks baby.’
‘That's not the point.’ You snapped ‘She could literally come at any time. I can’t do this alone Javi, you promised me I wouldn’t have to.’
‘I know I’m sorry.’ he said, scrubbing his hand over his face ‘I promise I will keep my phone on me at all times. I have a pager now too so you can contact me on that if it's about the baby coming, send 911.’
~
Things only got worse over the next week. He got home later and later, consistently stinking of the cigarettes he smoked and the whiskey he drank. Steve was always with him so you knew that he was truly in the office late but as your due date loomed closer and closer, you started to fear that you were going to end up doing this alone.
‘Baby come on don’t do this.’ He begged as you grabbed your coat and opened the door ‘I’m sorry I’ve been getting home later but we’re really close, I can feel it.’
‘I’m really close Javi.’ You growled, turning on your heels to face him ‘I have literally 2 weeLet'sntil I’m due. Two weeks until our daughter arrives.’ You paused as tears streamed down your cheeks ‘You promised me that you’d put us first. You swore to me and I believed you, let me fall for you.’
‘Hermosa please.’
‘I need some air Javi.’ You snapped, storming out the door and down the stairs of your building.
‘You can’t be walking around at night eight, almost nine, months pregnant.’
‘Uh, I can.’ You growled, not even turning your head to look at him as you continued to walk.
‘Please cariño. Lets just go home and talk about this.’
‘Nothing to talk about Javi.’ You growled, continuing to stomp on.
‘Hermosa please.’ He yelled and you stopped in your tracks, shoulders heaving ‘I’m sorry. Sorry that I haven’t been there but works been so hectic and I-.’ You start to turn, mouth opening as you started to speak.
‘Javi I-‘ You stop dead, eyes growing wide.
‘What?’
The gunshot echos through the evening air. You stare at him and he stares back at you, his eyes then drifting down to see his off white button-up gradually turning red.
‘JAVI.’ You scream as you sprint to his side, remarking the gunman sprinting away ‘Javi, baby, stay with me.’ You pleaded as you pull off your coat and press it down onto his stomach.
‘FUCK!.’ He yells, eyes shooting open as your action tore him away from the darkness that had tugged at his consciousness ‘Cariño… you need to get out of here.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’ You sobbed, hands shaking as you looked around and you realised that you’d not made it far from your apartment building.
You started to scream, as loudly as you can, for someone to help you. You scream until your voice goes hoarse and just when you start to lose hope that someone will help you notice a familiar blonde figure sprinting towards you.
‘SHIT!’ He shouted as he came to a stop at your side ‘What the fuck happened?’
‘He’s been shot.’ You sobbed.
He made some calls on his phone before he finally dropped to your side, taking over placing pressure on Javier’s wound as you then tried your best to comfort him. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin and you noticed he’d started to shiver, eyes hooded and heavy as he tried to keep himself awake.
‘Steve he’s going into shock.’ You said, voice shaking as your stroked some of the sweat-slick hair away from his brow ‘Help’s coming baby.’
You hold his hand and sob, cursing yourself for leaving the house.
Why had you left the house?
The EMTs arrive a short while after, pulling you and Steve away so they could work on Javi whilst throwing medical jargon in Spanish back and forth that you and Steve managed to catch only the odd word here and there. You are both ushered into the Ambulance where you resumed holding his hand whilst Steve stared at him with wide eyes, knee bouncing nervously as he watched the stuttered rise and fall of his partner's chest. No words were exchanged, he didn’t even look at you he just continued to watch his partner as the ambulance sped through the now emptied streets of Bogota.
The ambulance came to an abrupt stop and the doors swung open to reveal a flurry of Medical staff awaiting your arrival. Javier’s gurney was pulled from the vehicle and wheeled into the hospital where he was then taken to a large room filled with a vast array of different medical equipment. Steve had flashed his badge and the doctors and nurses just let the two of you follow but you were ushered into the corner and forced to watch as they attempted to stabilise him. Alarms start to blare and your stomach dropped, the buzz of activity around the man you loved getting more hectic as a nurse finished up inserting a tube in his throat whilst another attached a bag to the end of it, proceeding to pump air into his dormant lungs as the doctor prepped a machine you most certainly recognised.
‘Javi.’ You sobbed as your knees buckled but Steve caught you before you fell to the floor ‘Javi please.’
SHOCK.
You watch his body arch and your blood goes cold, all colour draining from your face.
SHOCK.
His body arches from the bed again and your eyes roll back, darkness consuming you as you collapse into Steve’s arms.
~
You knew what was happening when it started and you'd sobbed as the contractions got closer and closer together but Connie held your hand as she desperately tried to soothe you. When the time came you were moved to a different room. A room you didn't want to be in. Not yet.
‘I can’t have her now Con.’ You wailed ‘Not without him.’
‘Sweetie she’s coming.’ She said gently, stroking some sweat-slick hair from your brow ‘You need to push Hunny. Please push.’
The doctor between your legs desperately tried to urge you to push along with Connie but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to have this baby without him. He should be there with you, holding your hand as you pushed your baby girl into the world like he'd said but instead you were here and he was undergoing life-saving surgery.
You let out a guttural scream as you were finally forced to push, tears streaming down your cheeks as you desperately tried and deliver your daughter.
‘That's it. You’re doing great.’ Connie said, resting her forehead against yours as you let out another scream as you pushed again ‘One more hun, one more and she’ll be here.’
One more you gave.
You pushed like your life depended on it and you were rewarded with the sound of your daughters cries. It was the most wonderful sound you’d ever heard and for a moment you let yourself revel in it, sobbing as you were handed your daughter. She was small but healthy and Connie assured you that she’d be fine despite being a few weeks early. You studied her carefully and all you could see was him. She already had his hair, surprisingly long and curly and her skin was sun-kissed.
‘She’s beautiful.’ Connie said, placing a friendly kiss on your temple before gazing back down at her.
‘She looks just like him.’ You choked, unable to hold your sorrow back any longer ‘He should be here.’
~
You sat watching him as you cradled your infant in your arms. You’d been discharged the following day but had refused to leave, wanting to remain at Javi’s side until he woke up. He was still in surgery when you’d finished delivering your daughter, the bullet having torn a hole right through him and leaving mayhem in his wake. He was still hooked up to the ventilator, the machine breathing for him so that his body could focus its efforts on healing. You’d been told by the doctors that he was stable and that his chances were favourable but that hadn’t given you the hope that you needed. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.
‘Hun?’ Came a soft voice, averting your attention away from your lover to the doorway where Connie stood with an older man ‘This is Chucho.’ She clarified as she gingerly stepped inside with him right behind her ‘He’s-.’
‘Javier’s father.’ You interrupted, giving him a sad smile before glancing down at your still sleeping baby ‘He’s told me a lot about you, sir.’
‘Please, no need to be so formal.’ He replied, waving his hand at you ‘You and I are tied by blood now. Call me Chucho or even pops if you'd like.’
His kindness brought a genuine smile to your face and you nodded at him before pushing yourself to your feet, wincing from the soreness you still suffered.
‘Is this her?’ He asked as you stepped towards him, beaming at the tiny creature in your arms.
‘Yeah.’ You replied ‘This is her.’
‘Javi wouldn’t stop gushing about how excited he was on the phone.’ He started and the sad smile returned to your face ‘I know he was an idiot in the beginning but he…’ He drifted off as his eyes locked onto his son laying in the bed behind you ‘Oh Javier.’ He sobbed as he walked past you and to his side, taking his hand.
‘I’ll give you a few minutes alone with him.’ You said as you turned to leave and Chucho looked up at you.
‘Stay Mija.’ He said softly, holding out his hand to you ‘Please.’
You sat for some time with few words being passed between you. The doctors came by and after explaining who Chucho was, they'd updated him and you on the agent's condition. He’d remained relatively stony about the whole situation, clearly a man that did not like to put his emotions out there for the whole world to see.
‘I need to feed her.’ You said upon noticing that the baby was getting restless in her Moses basket, something that Steve and Connie had kindly bought you.
‘That’s fine Mija.’ He said sweetly ‘Nothing I haven’t seen before but I can leave if you’d rather be alone?’
‘No, it’s fine.’ You replied, smiling at him as you scooped up the baby up and carried her back to your chair, nodding in thanks when Chucho threw a blanket over your shoulders to give you a little privacy as she started to suckle at your breast.
‘She’s strong despite being early.’ He said as he watched her little legs kick.
‘Takes after her dad.’ You reply, watching as she ate ‘God this feels so strange.’ You chuckled and Chucho reciprocated.
‘My wife said the same thing when feeding Javi.’ He stated, glancing at his son ‘She struggled at first with him. He didn’t seem to want to latch but once he did, well there was no stopping him.’
You laughed at that, imagining a tiny little Javier turning his nose up at breasts. He certainly didn’t now.
‘He’ll pull through Mija.’ Said Chucho, pulling you from your reverie ‘You are going to be a family. He just needs to rest for a while.’
‘I know.’ You replied, eyes settling on Javi as your daughter continued to feed ‘I know.’
Over the next week, you got to know Chucho well. He cooed over your daughter, taking any opportunity he could to cuddle her and who were you to deny him that? He was her grandfather after all. Javier was then taken off the ventilator and you’d all held your breath, saying a silent prayer as you willed him to take a breath on his own and he had. Now his breathing was assisted with just a nasal cannula, his chest movements all his own but he still hadn’t woken up. The doctors told you both to talk to him, that people in a coma can often hear you and so as the days continued to go by, that's what you did along with Chucho.
‘So someone's been a particularly greedy girl today.’ You said as you perched on the edge of the bed ‘She’s definitely got an appetite.’ You continued ‘I wonder who she got that from.’ You asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Nothing.
‘Chucho’s gone to grab some sleep and shower. I said that he was welcome to use my apartment for as long as he needed.’ You paused, eyes glancing up at him ‘He loves her. Can’t get enough of her.’ You continued as you looked down at the sleeping infant in your arms ‘Oh Javi you need to wake up and meet her. She’s tiny but so perfect. Plus we need to give her a name. We never settled on one.’
Still nothing.
‘She has your hair and the most beautiful gold skin, I reckon it’ll get darker too as she gets a little older. Too early to tell whose eyes she has but I think she’ll probably have yours. She’s a little mini-me of you.’
He remains silent.
‘Come on Javi it's been two weeks.’ You grumbled ‘How much more sleep do you need?’ You looked at him expectantly ‘Javi I know you’re tired. I know you’re tired of fighting but I need you to fight for us.’
A groan made you jump and your eyes grew wide as Javier started to fidget, eyes scrunching as more groans escaped his lips.
‘Javi?’’ You asked, cradling the baby with one arm and taking his hand with your free one ‘Baby you with me?’
‘Where am I?’ He rasped, eyes cracking open and scanning his surroundings before coming to settle on you ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You were shot Javi.’ You stated as you gave his hand a squeeze ‘You’ve been in a coma for nearly three weeks.’
You saw the cogs in his mind whirring as he tried to process what you’re telling him but there was also something else in his eyes that scared you. Something that you didn’t want to be the case.
‘Javi I had the baby.’ You stated, lifting her slightly so he could see her ‘Meet your daughter.’
‘I don’t have a daughter!’ He growled, his tone suddenly angry ‘I don’t know who you are.’ He snapped, heart rate increasing ‘Who are you?’
‘Javi? It’s me, baby.’ You sobbed, telling him your name ‘We’ve been together for almost a year. You accidentally got me pregnant but after being a complete douche about it at the beginning you realised you wanted her. Our daughter. You wanted us.’
‘I don’t know you.’ He yells and you flinched, tears streaming down your cheeks as the baby started to wail.
‘Javi please.’ You sobbed but you were soon pulled out of the room so that the nurses and doctors that had entered could check him over.
You rocked the baby in your arms in an attempt to stop her cries, your own tears staining her pink onesies. The doctor emerged a little while later, steering you towards a seat and sitting beside you.
‘He appear to be suffering from memory loss.’ He started in broken English ‘He gone through a lot. It may be from the arresting that it caused some memory loss. It should return with time but need to be gentle with him.’
‘He doesn’t remember me.’ You sobbed ‘He doesn’t remember that we were having a baby together.’
‘That will return with time.’ He replied ‘Patience.’
With that, he left and you gingerly stepped back onto the room, a nurse still inside checking over his IV as he stared at the Moses basket in the corner. You weren’t sure what to do. Should you stay if he doesn’t remember you? Or should you leave and get Chucho to stay with him?
‘Doc tells me that you’ve been here the whole time.’ He says, not taking his eyes off of the basket ‘Said that you and the baby have slept here every night. That my father has been here.’
‘Yes.’
‘Who are you?’ He growled ‘And how have you managed to fool people into thinking that's my kid?’
‘Because she is Javi!‘ You snapped ‘Look at her!’ You say, laying her in his arms ‘Look at her and tell me she isn’t yours.’
Look at her he does and despite having no recollection of you he had felt drawn to you but now as she lay in his arm, he felt especially drawn to her. He looked at her and she looked at him, tiny orbs staring up at him and he smiled.
‘Why don’t I remember?’
‘What is the last thing you remember?’ You asked, taking a seat on the chair beside his bed.
‘Um... I just got a new partner. Steve.’ He stated, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the baby in his arms.
‘Javi that was a year ago.’ You stated ‘You and I met a month or so after he arrived. Practically collided with each other in the hall. I’m a secretary at the embassy. We went out one night and I ended up falling into your bed then it happened again... continuously.’
‘Then she happened?’ He asked, motioning to your daughter.
‘Then she happened.’ You replied, a small smile gracing your lips ‘She’s becoming a right grandpa’s girl you know?’ You chuckled ‘Got him wrapped around her teeny finger’
‘Well we can’t have that can we?’ He said as he looked down at her ‘If I’m your daddy then I need to be the favourite.’ He said to her with a softness that you'd never seen before.
‘Oh, I’m sure you will be.’ You piped up, grinning at him as he let his eyes settle on you again.
‘I’m sorry.’ He said suddenly and you gave him a bemused look.
‘What for?’
‘For not remembering you.’
~
Javier was discharged a few days later but his memories were yet to return. He felt drawn to the baby though and so he accepted her readily but you... You he still a little wary of. He felt something for you. A longing that he couldn't explain and it scared him. It was like his body remembered who you were to him, what you were to him but his mind was keeping that a secret from him. Upon entering his apartment he didn’t recognise the place he’d come to call home. There were photos of the two of you on the wall, ultrasounds images stuck to the fridge and toys everywhere. The spare room had been decorated and adorned with furniture for the baby.
‘When did you do all this?’ He asked, holding his daughter close to his chest.
‘We did this together a few months ago after agreeing your apartment was the better one to live in.’ You stated, clearing a few items ‘My apartments across the hall. Your dad's been staying there. I’ll go fetch him. Let him know you're home.’
Javi simply nodded, watching as you left before turning his attention back to his daughter who was starting to squirm against his shoulder. He supported her head as she leant herself back a little to look at him, her mouth open in a tiny ‘o’ that made him grin at her.
‘You hungry Hermosa?’ He asked as her eyes grew comically wide ‘Well mummy will be back in a moment.’ He paused, his heart sinking as he looked around at the home that he’d clearly shared with you for months but had no recollection of your time together.
‘Hello, son.’ Came a similar voice and Javier glanced up to see his father stood next to you, a smile crossing his face as he took in his son holding his daughter.
‘Pops.’ He replied, nodding his head slightly.
~
Chapter 3
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antigonick · 4 years ago
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FIVE CHARACTER TROPES
RULES: List five tropes applicable to your character, then tag others to do the same. (Tropes Wiki), repost / do not reblog.
(okay apparently it’s a Una day today, let’s do this). 
tagged by @forestcreatures​ and @impossible-rat-babies​ ♡ thank you, I’ve been losing my mind on TV tropes for a full hour. Tagging @ace-of-kings @mihqorio @heartbrreak and @ardellian​ if you want to!
Una.
FALLEN HERO / ANTI-HERO / FACE-HEEL TURN Not all villains are born. Some are made, and none are more tragic than the Fallen Hero. As the name implies, the Fallen Hero used to be a hero before doing a Face–Heel Turn. They may even have been an Ideal Hero or another equally optimistic archetype, up until the moment when they suffered something bad enough for them to lose all faith in good and idealism, be it the loss of a loved one, too many good deeds coming back to bite them hard, betrayal by someone they trusted the most, too much distrust from those who should have been allies, or some other faith-shattering event. It might even be a drawn out process of seduction to The Dark Side or fall from grace. Some Evil Old Folks happened to be this type in their younger days.
What they choose to do about it determines what they become:
If they retreat into themselves and fight evil mercilessly to dull the pain, they become an Anti-Hero, though if this fight is motivated by vengeance, they may run the risk of becoming like the very monsters they have sworn to destroy.
DETERMINATOR
A character — good or evil, male or female, young or old — who never gives up. Ever. No matter what.
There is no stopping the Determinator. They do not understand tact. They do not Know When to Fold 'Em, and it's a waste of time to tell them the odds. No one can reason with them. They'll do whatever they have to without question. No price is too great to pay for success, up to and including their own life. Do not expect them to realize they might be better off letting it go, even if they can barely stand. If you're ever kidnapped or lost with no hope of rescue, they'll be the one who will find you. Their adversaries will shout, in exasperated rage, "Why Won't You Die?!". For them, there is no line between "perseverance" and "insanity."
The nobility of their goal is not necessarily proportionate to their persistence. This is just as often an obsessive rival with a grudge as it is a hero on a chivalrous quest, and where their willpower ultimately leads them will depend both on their role and on where the work stands on the Sliding Scale of Idealism vs. Cynicism.
TELL ME HOW YOU FIGHT
and I will tell you what you are. You can tell a lot about a person by the way he fights. This is when a character's fighting style reflects his personality or methodology. Similar to Weapon of Choice except here, it's not so much what you use as how you use it.
• Suicidal Tactics: Character launches forward, not caring about leaving himself wide open to attack. It is a style appropriate for Blood Knight, a Death Seeker, a Leeroy Jenkins or a Berserker. Could be an Action Bomb.
• Self-Imposed Challenge: Character eschews weapons when everyone else uses them, or otherwise limits his power (and it may not be by choice); appropriate for a Proud Warrior Race Guy or variety of Martial Pacifist or "smiling, wrinkly old man" types. May be used by Blood Knights or Worthy Opponentswho can't get a satisfying fight any other way, which shows deserved overconfidence. May be fond of saying I Am Not Left-Handed.
• Fights Like a Normal: If a superpowered character prefers good old martial arts, then either he is too arrogant (villain) or afraid (hero) to use his powers, or he might simply find "normal" skills more enjoyable (either hero or villain).
• Close-Range Combatant: The character in this case is strong, confident and/or reckless, shining on hand-to-hand combat and often overlapping with the suicidal tactics described above, but with an emphasis on this character's lack of reach being a potentially crippling weakness.
ENEMY WITHIN
A specific form of Split Personality. Maybe the Body Horror became a bit too fused with someone. Maybe the Unstoppable Rage is getting... too unstoppable. Perhaps The Atoner's past is taking on a life of its own. Either way, the enemy is behind the hero's eyes, and its time is coming when it can take over. Until then, it'll do all it can to control him and get him to give in to its Horror Hunger. The thing to stress most is that the Enemy Within is the hero. He or she cannot simply exorcise it out. Often the Enemy Within is the cause of the powers that the hero has that allows them to do what they do. With Great Power Comes Great Insanity, remember?Often, since Evil Is Cool and Evil Feels Good, other characters may realize the danger before the hero and need to convince him.
SHE WHO FIGHTS MONSTERS
Usually, not quite a villain, but they act antagonistically enough that they're little better. Something has happened to our Fallen Hero: his village was destroyed, his friends killed, his puppy roasted on an open spit, his bike stolen, whatever. All that matters is that It's Personal, and he feels that the law just isn't suitable enough (or has become too corrupt and ignorant) to be of any use to him in settling the matter. He may justify his actions by claiming that it's Justice he's after, not vengeance, but anyone with half a brain can easily see that he's out for Revenge... unfortunately, we can also see that the more he hunts the cause of his woes, the more he takes on the villain's personality and mannerisms—something that our "hero" is too blinded by his single-minded goal to realize.
Our avenger may have good intentions—the fiend may well be too dangerous to be kept alive—but ultimately, his obsession with dealing out due punishment (or worse) and his refusal to think about what he's doing twists him into a monster just as bad as, or even worse than, the one he's hunting. And even before he gets to that point, it's nigh-impossible to turn him away; calling him out on it will be ignored or retaliated against. The Power of Friendship and The Power of Love were lost to him the moment the atrocity that sent him on his wild goose chasehappened; he feels that Team Spirit is just a hindrance, and that Love Is a Weakness that he can't afford to have.
Also includes, but not limited to (can you tell I’m cheating yet?): What You Are In The Dark, Beneath The Mask / Becoming The Mask, Escaped From the Lab / Become a Real Boy, Unreliable Narrator, No-Holds-Barred Beatdown, Berserk Button, Blood Knight / Knight Templar / Death Seeker / in Harm’s Way, Don’t You Dare Pity Me!, Heroic Sacrifice, Cute Bruiser, Mugging The Monster, Jerk With a Heart of Gold, Sir Swears-A-Lot, Telepathy, Love is a Weakness, Mind Rape, Roaring Rampage of Revenge, Humans Are the Real Monsters, The Power of Hate, and, indulgently, Birds of a Feather, Interplay of Sex and Violence, In Love With Your Carnage, Undying Loyalty, The Only One Allowed to Defeat You, I Know Your True Name. 
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alwayspondering · 4 years ago
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Roots Intertwined
Hi! I’m absolutely honored to have had such a wonderful artist to work with in @mysme-rbb​ : Loli! Their art style is spectacular and it is a perfect visual for the story below. Check out Loli’s Instagram HERE! ^^
Note: I posted this before, but accidentally pressed the wrong button and deleted the original post. If you could leave a note to build it back up to what it was, that would be lovely!
Warnings: some implied reference to neglect and abuse, spoilers for Rika’s Behind Story, religion
Finally. A moment alone with my thoughts. That was rare.
As quiet and serene the ancient walls of the cathedral were, it was rare to find a moment of peace.
Perhaps “peace” is a loose term. Peace can be defined in countless ways, flexible from person to person. One thing is universal – everyone gets peace of mind from security, from support, from compassion. Peace of mind is one thing, but surviving is entirely different. Too much security is dangerous.
I had learned that early on. No matter what happens - or whoever enters my life - that mindset will always be with me. It protects me. That is the only thing I know for sure in this world.
V tells me that he is my security, the one I can trust, the one I can love - my Sun.
V tells me he will help me rid of the darkness in my mind.
I want to believe him. I want to trust him. I want to love him as much as he loves me. I want to be worthy enough for the handsome, sentimental man that had so sincerely promised his life to me.
A part of me wants to embrace the darkness that I pushed away for so long. Is that so wrong?
The all-too-familiar feeling of dread washed over me. I suddenly saw Mina, curled up on a church pew. The screeching voice of Mother - of the Pastor - berading every thought that could have spun the flashback away.
“This is just a ritual to cleanse the devil from you-”
“Serena, you’re possessed by Satan-”
“This thing will spread its germs! Dear Lord, smite this fiend out of this place-”
“Begone!”
“Satan!”
“I need your help, good people of God!”
A small, trembling hand reached to point at the Preacher, tears streaming.
“Amen, amen...”
Though a million different phrases raced through young Mina’s mind, nothing dared escape her lips. Mina was silenced. Serena was silenced.
“Lord, protect us from this Satan!”
I was silenced.
“Do something about her! The Satan might reach out to us, too...!”
“Get her! Now!”
Silenced. Restrained. Helpless.
Slowly - painfully - the image of Mina soon began to shift. Mina’s emerald doe eyes faded into vibrant golden ones, filled with the same amount of helplessness. Her wavy blonde hair faded into a tousle of red.
“...Miss Rika?” A soft, mouse-like voice snapped me out of the nightmare.
Saeran.
I knew how to recover quickly from these episodes. I learned how to don a mask of innocence and happiness for the rest of the world, at the flip of a coin.
Saeran needed someone who was stable - someone who could be his rock. Just like V was for me. I had to be that for Saeran no matter what. I could never abandon him.
“Hello, Saeran.” My once-dazed expression melted into a smile as he ran to meet me on the bench in the prayer garden that had become my escape.
“I’ve missed you, Miss Rika! So, so so much!” Saeran nearly tackled me into an embrace that I returned warmly.
“V and I have missed you just as much!” I heard my own voice chime out, the smile on my lips genuine now as the lingering dread washed away.
“...You did?” Saeran pulled away from the hug, his head tilting to the side. His eyes were just as doe-like as Mina’s. The same innocence - and fragility - she had once had was evident in him, too.
“Of course we did. How could we not miss such a goofball like yourself?” I rustled his hair, a light-hearted giggle escaping the young boy’s lips. The small peal of laughter was soon interrupted by a sudden expression of uncertainty.
“A ‘goof-ball’... Is that a bad thing?” Saeran enunciated each syllable of this new word, unsure of himself. My own expression shifted as I could sense a new anxiety in the young boy. One that was very familiar.
“A bad thing? No, absolutely not. Being a goofball is one of the best things to be, Saeran. It’s a good thing.” My voice was reassuring, almost motherly.
“A good thing... Hm.” I could see the cogwheels turning through Saeran’s mind after he spoke, and then - “Mother says I will never be anything close to good.”
Tears began to form in Saeran’s eyes but it was obvious he was trying his best to hold it all in. It seemed like he had experience with holding in that emotion. Just like Mina.
“Saeran…” I watched as he struggled to keep an unbothered expression.
He was fighting hard.
His thoughts were so obviously spiraling.
“...Saeran… You don’t have to hide any of those emotions from me. Okay?”
Saeran’s expression remained as stone-cold as he could muster. His eyes glared back at me with bewilderment. It was as if he’d never heard reassurance like this from anyone.
I figured that was accurate, from the way little Saeyoung had spoken of their mother. There was obviously a reason he never talked about her.
Without another word between us, I enveloped Saeran into a nurturing embrace.
As if a burden had been lifted, he sunk into my arms - effortlessly, as if he had belonged there.
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His heaving sobs were silenced as he buried his head in the ruffles of my dress. His breathing soon became hitched - broken - gasping for air.
I could only hold him tight, and comfort him as best as I could. That was the least I could do for this poor child.
Soon, the gasps turned into hyperventilation.
“Saeran, darling - Breathe…” I spoke tenderly, in the most comforting voice I could muster.
His breaths were still fast - too fast. “You are safe here with V and I. You are safe with me… Please, just breathe…”
Slowly, but surely - painfully - Saeran’s breaths began to calm.
“That’s it - just keep breathing… Three counts in, three counts out…” I recalled the breathing strategy V had coached me through countless times. Saeran followed my advice, and soon his breathing pace settled further.
I held Saeran close, like I always wished my mother had. I held him tight. I wanted to protect this child from this world. Even if it meant sacrificing myself.
“...Can you talk to me, Saeran? Tell me what’s swirling through those thoughts of yours.” I asked gently, taking care not to overstep and push him away.
In response, Saeran pulled away from the embrace, staying close but retracting in by wrapping his arms fully around his small torso.
The young boy’s sniffles were the only sound other than the birds chirping in the near distance.
A look of deliberation - of hesitancy - suddenly appeared on Saeran’s face. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his torn, thin shirt. A bony wrist moved to roll up both pant legs to reveal two raw, red bruises around his ankles.
A sharp gasp instinctually escaped my lips at the sight.
Though I kept it hidden, rage for the monster that shackled this poor child boiled up inside.
“It hurts…” Saeran whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. The tears trailed down his cheeks silently.
“Your mother did this to you…?”
A sharp nod in response.
“A mother should never treat their child that way.” My voice was suddenly colored with a new darkness.
“...Why does she?” The young voice chirped, pining for an answer. That was an answer I wanted to figure out for myself. I could hardly fathom how anyone could even think of hurting such a weak, broken child.
A child who needed someone to help him survive in this world.
“Some people in this world are evil, Saeran. Unfortunately, your mother is one of them.” I spoke in a calculated, composed tone. There was no need to let my true emotions out.
“‘E-vil…’ Is that something bad?” Another inquisitive chirp.
I nodded in response before taking his small hand in my own. At first, he flinched at the touch - but soon relaxed.
“...But you know what? I know how to spot the evil people in this world.”
“You can…?”
“Yep, I can. It’s my super power.”
“Wow, really?”
“Well, not really. But I’ve never been wrong about a person, ever.” A laugh escaped my lips before my expression shifted to that of true sincerity. “...I want you to know that I’m going to do everything I can to protect you from her. I will always protect you, Saeran.”
“...Why me?”
I considered this for a moment. I had to gain his trust. I had to be careful. One misspoken word, and I could lose everything.
“Believe it or not, you and I are actually quite similar, Saeran.” I wiped a tear from Saeran’s cheek and realized he was entranced at my words. My eyes searched the ground, settling upon a burst of yellow just beyond the shadows of the bench. Reaching down, I deftly picked it from its shady haven.
“...You and I are like this daffodil. Fragile, beautiful, sprouting even from the darkness.” I spun the stem in between my fingers. “...This daffodil needs someone to take care of it. Someone who will protect it. Someone who will help keep it alive.”
I took a moment to phrase my words - cautiously.
“I will be that someone for you, Saeran. Will you let me be?” I handed the delicate flower ever-so-carefully to Saeran. He twirled the stem in between his fingers, his expression colored with new melancholy.
“You… really want to protect me?” Hesitant curiosity coloured the child’s voice now.
“Of course I do,” I continued, “I’ll care for you, protect you, and help you survive in this world, Saeran.”
Saeran blinked in an almost disbelief, a tear trailing slowly down his cheek. That disbelief melted into a hopeful smile.
That was the smile of a child who was fit for the Paradise I had been dreaming of.
“...Okay.” Saeran’s gaze flickered back towards me, his golden eyes as doe-like as ever. He twirled the stem giddily in between his fingers.
Saeran was the daffodil - as delicate and fresh as the tiny flower he held so carefully. I will do everything in my power to keep him from being crushed, from being choked out by the weeds he would inevitably find himself ensnared in.
No weeds would ever dare ensnare anyone I deemed fit for my Paradise.
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deathonyourtongue · 4 years ago
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Sanguine Nocturnus | 5
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Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : Sorry this took so long. Hope y’all enjoy it!!
The night was cool, despite the sun’s remnants still radiating from the cobblestone roads like a thin blanket, the heat spreading up Henry’s legs as he and Vinicius made their way to a matte black Ashton Martin Vanquish, the car looking as though it had just rolled out of the dealership.
“Spending wisely, I see,” Henry smiled, taking in the car with an appreciation he shared with most mortal men. While it wasn’t a sturdy black stallion, it would certainly do the trick.
“It was a birthday present from Lucy, I had no say in the matter.” Vinicius answered with an equally cheeky grin, unlocking the car with a push of a button, the engine roaring to life simultaneously. It was only once the doors opened that Henry noticed Gregory sitting in the back seat, looking around anxiously, like a junkie looking for a fix.
“I’m afraid he’s still famished. Nearly emptied the vaults of A+, and yet he’s still ready to bite the first thing that moves,” Vinicius explained, nodding towards Gregory, who barely acknowledged him before turning in his seat to look over his shoulder, watching for anything that could pass as food.
“So m’lord, tonight we go hunting for your first real meal!” Vinicius announced as he looked through the rear-view mirror at Gregory.
“I’ve hunted before,” Gregory replied in a defensive, whiny tone, his gaze showing his confusion. In that moment, Henry read the young vampire’s thoughts and had to discreetly move his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Hunting, for Gregory, had consisted of going to a nightclub and picking up the most self-conscious girl there. Their new elder hadn’t even bothered to try and pose her in a way that would keep the Carabinieri from asking questions. It was amateur at best, and Henry was certain Gregory’s victim hadn’t gone to her death in ecstasy. 
“Not the proper way. Not even close,” Henry smirked, sharing a knowing grin with Vinicius as the Vanquish sprinted out of the city center, heading North towards the vineyards.
Once clear of the light pollution, Vinicius eased his foot off the accelerator, preferring to take the two-lane roads at a more leisurely pace, something which, judging from how fidgety he was being, was pure torture for Gregory. 
“What have you lined up for us tonight, oh Master of Feasts?” Henry joked as Vinicius began to look around, watching as much for buildings as he was for the road. It didn’t take long for him to find the farmhouse, the small amount of light coming from the dwelling's windows confirming that it was a family owned vineyard they would be enjoying. Henry could hardly keep the grin off his face.
“Lesson number one, Gregory. If you are going to feed on a human, do so with discretion. Pick wisely, and choose only the sweetest of bloodlines.” Henry explained as they veered off the road and onto a gravel laneway.
“And never drink them dry. That’s the easiest way of getting ill.” Vinicius added, glaring jokingly at Henry, both having gone through the undead equivalent of the stomach flu when they were newly-turned. 
As Vinicius pressed a button on the dash, Henry heard a sudden whoosh of air spill from the tire in front of him. Briefly shocked, his smile grew into one of awe and mischief as he realized why Vinicius had kept such a present.
“You fiend! What else does this contraption do?” Henry laughed, knowing that they now had a verifiable excuse to ask for aid. Shaking his head, he could only chuckle as the car came to a slow stop and Vinicius cut the engine.
“We have a flat. Come on boys, it looks like there’s help just up the drive,” Vinicius smirked, motioning for the other two vampires to follow him.
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Vinicius exhaled deeply, invigorated by the fresh blood he’d just pulled from the now-limp girl in his lap. Looking around, he found their new Elder still suckling from a hearty old man—the owner of the vineyard—and Henry looking down at the seemingly-sleeping form of the wife that he’d just drunk from.
With a sharp look to his oldest friend, Vinicius pointed out Gregory’s quickly-approaching error. Eyes narrowed, Henry waited until the last possible moment before sweeping in and yanking the man’s body out of Gregory’s grip, a move which was met with understandable hostility and a hiss of aggression. 
“I wasn’t finished!” Gregory lamented, standing and wobbling a bit as the blood coursed through his veins, shooting straight up to his head. 
“You would have been if you’d kept drinking any longer,” Henry answered, shaking his head. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get a stomach ache. If you’d kept on and tried to drink her dry, you might very well find yourself in the ground next to her…permanently.” He explained. No vampire to his knowledge had ever tried to drain a meal, but the warning had been there as long as he’d been a creature of the night, and Henry wasn’t about to take the risk of finding out when the vampire in question was the head of the Roman coven. 
“Good stock.” Henry commended Vinicius on his choice of victims, both men ignoring Gregory’s silent thoughts regarding how they could wipe out an entire family so easily. It was natural for a young vampire, especially one thrust into such an important position, to question the nature of how they came about their food. While many newly-turned preferred to stick with the donation system, those born before the 1900’s were accustomed to feeding from the source. It was imperative for Gregory to become accustomed to both, especially since he would be parlaying with the heads of other covens, most of whom expected the luxury of a fresh meal whenever meetings were held or visits were made. Though it was still too early to tell, Henry didn’t foresee Gregory’s initial reaction being any sort of hindrance to his rule. 
“Dessert is back at the house, so if you two don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.” Vinicius announced, getting up and all but throwing the poor girl to the ground, stepping over her as one would step over litter on a sidewalk as he made his way to the front door.
Gregory's fidgeting only increased on the way home, his mind filtering through both Vinicius and Henry at the speed of sound, most of them relating to food or his fear of being prosecuted for murder. The two older vampires smiled, both restraining their laughter at the new vampire's paranoia and hunger.
"Don't worry. We're untouchable." Henry smirked, allowing the thought to filter into Gregory’s mind so subtly that it would seem like his own idea. He watched in the fold-down mirror as their new Elder’s anxiety diminished, allowing him to slump back against the seat and actually relax for a moment.
Almost as soon as they arrived, Gregory was accosted by no less than six coven members, all of them offering their fealty in the form of gifts, all of them desperate to get on their new Elder’s good side, lest they incur his wrath. In a flash, he was being made comfortable; fresh blood, warmed to perfection, a luxuriant housecoat and the finest tobacco. Like any new child in a household, he was being spoiled, something which would only make Henry’s job of teaching him that much harder. It was bad enough he had to walk a newly-formed vampire through the ways of his new life; to do it with one who would be ruling over all of Italy for the next 100 years would be near-torture. 
The older he grew, the less patience he had for new vampires. Though he did his best to stay in tune with society and culture as it progressed at faster and faster speeds, having to put up with the endless questions, insatiable hunger, and now the endless fixation for social media would be trying for even the most saintly person. It was one of the many reasons he could never be convinced to sire his own fledglings. 
Finding the whole scene distasteful and feeling a touch jealous of the boy, Henry turned on his heel and headed back out into the night, his mind venturing back to a time not long after his own immortal birth, when he was still ravenous and wild.
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Four years had simultaneously been an eternity and a single moment. Through it all, his hunger had never abated. Romans who dared live in the darker recesses, or outside the city gates knew to fear the creature that came unbidden in the night. The one who left nothing but terror and blood in his wake. Prayers were useless, as were offerings. Even sacrifices to the gods did nothing to keep him at bay. 
The hunger ruled his every waking hour and removed any notion of sanity, allowing him to commit unspeakable atrocities to anyone unfortunate enough to be in the domos he entered. He drank five to seven bodies’ worth a night, sometimes more if any of them were particularly small. Man, woman, child; It made no difference. They were all massacred, left in pieces, ripped limb from limb in his blind need for satiation. 
When the high of drinking his fill wore off--and it wore off quickly--Herminius inevitably found himself sickened by what he’d done. Many tears were shed over the corpses of those he’d sent to Charon, a litany of apologies whispered over bits of hair and skin before the hunger invariably took over once more, the ache in his belly unquellable.
Night after night, he scoured his birthplace, looking for those who were already near death’s door, those too feeble to cause a scene when his teeth sank into their flesh. More often than not, their blood did little to satisfy, and he would be forced to find a family of young, healthy, Romans to feast upon. It was a vicious, never-ending cycle that Herminius thought would be nearly impossible to break. At his most desperate, he attempted to end his existence, but not a single method he attempted did anything other than temporarily open his immortal vessel. 
When it became clear that Rome was no longer a safe haven, Herminius wormed his way into the hull of a ship heading for Alexandria. By the time it reached the Pearl of the Mediterranean, he was the sole inhabitant of the vessel. Though he’d learned some restraint on the voyage, being in a new city seemed only to amplify his need for blood.
Herminius had only been in Alexandria a few nights when Caesar’s men--his former brothers--set the port alight, maligning any chance of him returning to his beloved Rome without further risk to his life. His maker had only taught him one lesson, and it was one which made travel nearly impossible for one such as himself:
The sun is your death. 
Homesick and famished, Herminius watched as the library of the great jewel burned along with the port, the vast knowledge turned to mere ash by the carelessness of men he’d once fought alongside of. He wondered if any of his brothers had given any thought to what they were doing or, if like him, they’d thrown themselves headlong into the task with blind fury. Though they were now two very different animals, seeing the glee on their faces eased his guilt some; at the base level, all people were bloodthirsty creatures.
His hunger eased some that night at hearing the cries of anguish from learned men who were forced to watch as their life’s work disappeared before their eyes. By the time the fire was extinguished, nearly half the library had been engulfed, tiny scraps of papyrus floating through the air like the snow in Gaul that had so marveled some of his brothers.
He drank from only one soul that night, that of a young prostitute. Unlike the madness of meals past, where anger and desire coursed through him in equal measure, this time, Herminius sought only to drink and enjoy the nubile woman beneath him. For the first time, he heard the sweet music of pleasure come from his prey, her body writhing, begging him for more. Piercing her neck with his teeth as he pierced her core with his cock, Herminius made the girl sing. Her slim figure trembled in his arms as he slowly drank, fingers pressing her down until he felt the familiar ripple of delight sprint its way up her back. 
She took no note of the blood streaming down her neck as he moved his lips down to her small breast, nipping gently until he found the perfect place once more. Sinking his teeth in brought another moan from the girl, Herminius smiling as he drank what little there was left of her. Her final breath came as he spilled his impotent seed, unlatching from her breast just as she went limp in his arms. 
Setting the girl down, Herminius covered her and quietly slipped out the window, feeling solace for the first time since he himself was bitten.
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A few patrons still lingered at Romulus when he entered, and though it was accidental, Henry couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction when his scowl had them all scampering for their belongings, not one of them making eye contact as they headed for the door. 
“Wow, you sure know how to clear a room,” the bartender smirked as she dried a row of shot glasses, unphased by her other customers’ quick exits. 
“It’s a gift,” Henry murmured, taking a seat in front of her, still feeling the barbs of anger pushing into every fiber of his being. 
“Long night?” She asked, ducking her head a bit to try and catch his gaze. Henry finally looked up, feeling the edge begin to dull on his mood as he was met with a warm, open smile. 
“You could say that. Glass of the old stuff with a splash of bourbon, if you please,” Henry requested, jerking his chin towards the wall behind her, pointing at the bottles of Sanguinem that held a place of high regard among the other booze.
“You and your buddies are real fond of this stuff, huh? I’m not sure I get the appeal,” Carla chuckled, shaking her head as she got everything ready to go. 
“There’s a certain…generation of us that grew up having sips of it. It became an old habit.” Henry explained, giving her a wink, his smile growing as he saw a blush flood Carla’s cheeks.
He fell silent as he watched her prepare the drink, intrigued when Carla took a shot of the sanguinem before looking over her ingredients. Eyes narrowed, she chose carefully. Henry was hooked as he watched her light a few Cloves until they smoked, quickly turning what he assumed would be his glass over the smoldering herb and a sprig of Thyme before allowing the glass to cloud with the white plume. In her shaker, she put the sanguinem and his requested shot of bourbon, sprinkling cinnamon on top before shaking it up, knowing better than to add ice, as she’d yet to see any of the patrons who ordered it ask for it on the rocks. Finally, she turned the glass over, quickly pouring the drink into it and trapping the smoke in amongst the alcohol. 
“I present to you, the Caligula. Get it, ‘cause the sanguinem tastes like blood?” She beamed, taking a joking bow before watching Henry take his first sip. 
Before he could even let the liquid touch his tongue, the scene brought him back to the Rome of old, Henry’s eyes closing of their own volition as he drank. Savoring it, he did his best not to swoon, memories of meals past coming back as though he’d just finished them, the flavor bringing back with it memories that actually made him smile. 
When he finally came to, Henry’s expression had softened into one of wonder and appreciation. Staring into Carla’s eyes, he felt something he had felt in ages; attraction. Without allowing his mind to crawl into the decrepit place it usually went when it came to any sort of relationship outside of friendship, Henry let his mouth and heart do the work. 
“Carla,” he read her name tag, “my name is Henry, and you, bellissima, have just created the only way I’ll take this drink for the rest of my life.”
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alpaca-writes · 4 years ago
Text
Mystics, Chapter 22
When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….
Read Chapters 1-21 and more HERE
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump
CW: very sad... like quite sad. Not the saddist I have planned for him, but obviously Lyrem centric because it is sad. Also Memory whump :) and Cancer mention :( 
If you enjoy my work and are reading my stories then please do me a teeny tiny favor and reblog my work! Xx. - Alpaca.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: ROOM 111
        Lyrem opened his eyes, exhausted from the effort to stay awake. The nurse released his hand from the man’s shoulder as he remembered what he would be waking up to and Lyrem jolted upright in the navy cloth seat. The waiting room was painted white from top to bottom with just a bit of colour on the walls in the failed attempt for the area to feel welcoming.
        “Sir,” the nurse addressed him. “Your wife is out of surgery now.”
        Lyrem sniffed and stood up, the weight of a clear stone sat in his pocket. On it was etched a symbol of an oddly shaped wheel with three prongs. It was the only thing holding him together-especially now as his legs were fighting him the whole way down the hall. Truthfully, he didn’t want to see her. He was afraid to see her.
        He imagined tubes. Too many tubes. Sticking out of Maria at every direction- smeared with rusty patches of blood- in pain and breathing with difficulty. He’d have to deliver her water, probably; Ask for a nurse to give her more pillows and more pain relief, too. He should have brought flowers- what kind of idiot forgets to bring flowers to his wife’s hospital bed?!
        “Can I speak with the surgeon?” Lyrem stuck out a hand, brushing the forearm of the nurse who would lead him to Maria. “Can I know…”
        He couldn’t finish the question- how much longer she has?
        The nurse paused to nod him a sympathetic smile.
        “The surgeon will be available to speak with you both soon.”
        Lyrem choked back a small breath. Maria was awake? He didn’t think she would be awake. The nurse left him outside the door with the silver numbers 111 beside it. His reflection, nailed to the door jam, played his fear back to him. It reminded him that he couldn’t be afraid. He wouldn’t let her know he was.
        He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes before crossing over the threshold- perhaps it was out of habit. Part of him even wished the Labyrinth might take him instead of Room 111.
        “Oh, who’s this handsome fella?”
        Lyrem’s mouth curled at the edges. Before speaking, he reached into his jacket, and pulled out a small yellow book.
        “His name’s Aurelius.”
        Maria chuckled lightly. The book was set down on the attached table to the bedframe. She didn’t reach for it. Lyrem found his eyes drifting away from hers each time he felt the contact lingered for too long. Her eyes like storm clouds, were once bright and lively. Today, and for many days previous, they had sunken in her growing sickness.
        “Did they tell you anything, yet?” Lyrem asked with his eyes to the geometric carpeted floor. It was badly stained and needed desperate replacing.
        Maria shook her head and closed her eyes. There were tubes just helping the oxygen flow and not much else other than an IV and blood oxygen monitor clipped to her finger. He could hear the laborious breathing though. That was something she didn’t have before she had come in. Before she had said much at all, Lyrem sensed that she was tired.
        “You should keep it,” she said softly, nodding to the book. “I’ve read it a thousand times over. I don’t need it anymore.”
        “Are you trying to tell me you’ve finally achieved enlightenment?”
        “Stop being a goose,” she commanded. “You’d learn a lot from it. Just take it already.”
        Lyrem’s eyes clouded over. Swallowing, he sat down beside her on a simple black chair, and shook his head.
        “No, I don’t need it.”
        Maria sighed. Her eyes disappointed in his condescending and stubborn refusals, though she was not at all surprised by it.
        “Lyrem… we both know what he is going to say”-
        “No, we don’t. We haven’t heard anything from the surgeon yet”-
        “The chance that I recover even with chemo is extremely low”-
        “There are always alternative treatments if it becomes too hard for you”-
        “I know I don’t have much longer”-
        “For fuck sake’s, Maria! Are you really so desperate to get rid of me?!”
        A hush fell through the room. There wasn’t a sound, save the steps of nurses and doctors directing themselves through the halls and the odd traveling visitor. Lyrem’s head fell, his face red with shame…
        “You think that I want to get rid of you?”
        “No, I didn’t mean that.”
        “You think I’d rather die than be by your side, Lyrem?”
        “No, I”-
        “I would never,” her voice shook with an anger hardly seen. Her eyes burned with tears of betrayal and what Lyrem would have only seen as regret if he was ever brave enough to meet her gaze. “Ever tell you that. I would never choose to discard you like that”-
        “Maria, I”-
        “I stood by your side. I was always there for you and I waited for you for ages”-
         “I know, my love. I’m s”-
        “I loved you, Lyrem.”
        “I’m so sorry, Maria.”
        Loved.
        He waited, holding his breath, but Maria was finished speaking. In fact, she didn’t even notice how she had placed that single letter at the end of the word that meant so much. He had noticed it immediately. He rubbed the palm of his hand down his face and stood up.
        “Where is that goddamn surgeon?!”
        Lyrem stepped out of the room, only to find himself face to face with a doctor- or who he assumed to be one. She was tall, dark skinned and donned a long white coat. Her hands clasped in front of her, as if she had expected him to appear there.
        “Lyrem Nomadus?”
        Startled by the sudden contact, he straightened against the door jam and nodded in confirmation. His striped button up shirt billowed out slightly and was left partially untucked; the last evidence that a man of his position had given up. Stepping out of the way, he allowed the woman into the room.
        Maria had already drifted into an exhausted sleep in the time that he had left for the door and returned to his chair. She deserved the rest. Reaching out, he held Maria’s hand. Her skin was rough and dry from the cold, unfeeling hospital where she had been staying for some time. There was a small bottle of lotion near the headboard. He took some in his hands and began to massage hers tenderly as she slept; almost placing him into a calming, meditative trance. It smelled of lilacs.
        “Stage four,” the woman said simply.
        “Yes, we know,” Lyrem said robotically. “You’re not the doctor we spoke with before she went under. Where is he?”
        “He was on his way, but became distracted with more …important patients.”
        With a fire in his eyes, Lyrem snapped.
        “My wife is the most important patient in this fucking building!”
        “You’re quite a mouthy one, aren’t you?”
        He huffed, and returned to attending Maria, concerned that his voice had woken her, he became still. The woman in the white coat closed the door gently and with a keen eye she studied Lyrem as he cradled his wife’s hand and placed a gentle kiss at the tips of her fingers.
        “May I ask you a personal question, Lyrem?”
        “What do you want to know?” He said tiredly.
        “What is your definition of true love?”
        He looked up, furrowing his brows.
        “Excuse me?”
        “What is it? True love, to you?”
        Lyrem shifted in his seat, and thought for a couple moments. The inkling that this person was more than a doctor, or a surgeon for that matter, was quite clear.
        “It’s something that is meant to be. It’s destiny, and it’s perfect.”
        The woman hummed. “That is very cute. I hope you don’t mind me saying.”
        “And may I ask the same question of you?” Lyrem posed indignantly. He lowered Maria’s hand to her side again. His eyes became more steeled. Serious.
        The woman grinned and approached and danced her fingers along the bedspread. Her eyes continued to linger on him as she explained herself.
        “True love…” she began. “To me… Exists and does not exist…
                 At the same time.
        Everyone loves in a thousand different ways every single day.
                 And yet we do not count a thought, a touch, a kiss, as acts of true love?
        What is any type of love, if not true?
                 If love is not true… Is it truly love?”
        “Forget I asked,” Lyrem grumbled a sigh.
        She giggled, like someone was tickling a feather against the back of her neck.
        “What is so funny to you?”
        “Oh, well,” she started. “I can feel your friend…the fiend. He’s trying to visit us now.” She lowered her voice to a playful whisper. “He can’t. I won’t let him interrupt.”
        Lyrem nodded and stood up from his chair. Pulling out a pale yellow, cloudy stone from his pocket, he held it up. She regarded it with a nod.
        “You’ve made yourself a moonstone. That is quite the feat.” she acknowledged. “All to summon little old me?”
        Lyrem’s grip tightened on the stone. So, she was Hekate. She finally showed up. Only took her four bloody weeks. Maria had done a lot of suffering in that time.
        “Yes.” He confirmed. Suspicious, more than hopeful, Lyrem placed it back into his pocket.  “And I would like to make a deal with you”-
                                                 . . . . . . . .
        “No!” The voice shouted through the darkness, the deeper one. “Where is it?!”
        “Oh, for goodness sake’s Hades!” Persephone hollered. “Maybe it has nothing to do with Maria? Maybe his call was somewhere else. We’ll find it eventually; we just have to keep searching.”
        “Hades!” Lyrem shouted. Once again, he was awoken into darkness from a deep memory. “Persephone! You both stop this charade right, bloody now!”
        “Oh great, now he knows we’re here.”
        Lyrem scoffed, his hands reaching his hips, he screamed right back once again. How dare they sift through his memories like old photos in a box, pulling him in and out of all the moments he wanted nothing more than to forget.
        “You utter fools! I knew I would arrive here! I knew you’d both be waiting! And I absolutely despise this attempt at torture! It’s boring! It’s… It’s… aggravating. Just let me die, already!”
        “I’m very sorry poor thing,” Persephone piped up, “But it’s really not meant to be torture for your little soul. We’re simply… looking for something”-
        “I don’t care what you’re looking for. Get out of my min”-
                                                   . . . . . . . .
        He was in a room.
        The backroom.
        Maria sat at the table with her small, thin, and wrinkled hands folded neatly. She only ever saw the back room once in her life and this was it. She had hardly looked around. Mystics was her pride and joy, but she wouldn’t be able to have it. Not anymore.
        A bejeweled and bloody knife sat beside her hands.
        “There’s enough money in your account for you to live happily. You’ll never have to worry about a thing,” Lyrem said as he sat across from her at the table.
        “I never wanted to break your heart.” She spoke softly.
        He should have noticed it earlier; the small changes in her voice when she spoke to him, the softness in her eyes that had grown calloused; the unfeeling nature of her hand in his. It wasn’t the sickness that had brought it on. This had been the nature of their love for a long, lonely time.
        “My heart’s fine,” he said coldly.
        Perspectives had changed since she had survived her battle with cancer. Maria loved him well for many years, but her life with him was over now. Lyrem saw that now too- he was just too afraid to admit it.
        After Hekate’s deal, and Maria had been miraculously healed in a way that doctors would study for years to come. She had reconnected with an old friend through the ordeal when Lyrem was away, searching for ways to keep her alive. The friend was one who had divorced his wife and was now living in Cuba, retired and carefree. Phillip had a lovely beach house, with a dock, and a yacht, and one of those jacuzzi tubs that Maria could never get enough of when she found herself in a nice hotel.
        “Give me your hand,” he requested, holding his own out for her to take one last time.
        The hand she offered had been scarred many times over and rarely had her wound ever been re-opened on purpose. Occasionally, Maria would see something she was not supposed to or know something that could have dire consequences for Lyrem if it ever was released into the world. It was safer if her memories were simply removed.
        This time, he wanted to erase himself.
        Everything they had ever done, he wanted it gone. He ushered her out the back door as her escort. Their final words had been shared. A cab would pick her up outside of Mystics in a few minutes to take her to the airport with a pair of packed yellow suitcases.
        “Memorias vim ex”-
        “Wait,” she stopped him, and stared up at his aged features. She wondered if she would still see him as handsome as he was now when her memories of him were gone. “I still… I care about you, Lyrem. Please, take care of yourself. Promise me.”
        Any softness left in his eyes immediately hardened. He told himself he didn’t care what she had left to say. She had wasted enough of her life with him already. There wasn’t a moment to lose.
        “Memorias vim extermina.”
        The cut on her hand healed itself thoroughly, fusing the skin together to leave not much more than a thin red welt on her palm. She turned back toward the street. The only thing on her mind now, was where to wait for her cab.
        He stepped into the back room, as silently as possible, just in time for Hades to bring him back into his present situation with a well fueled rage.
        “If you hedonistic cretins don’t stop what you’re doing, right now, I”-
        “You poor mortal man,” the deep voice claimed. “You still bear my mark, don’t you?”
        There was a dim blue glow. Finally, something for Lyrem to address properly.
        “Yes,” he spoke through gritted teeth, nearly pulling his hair out at the madness that was threatening to overtake him. Instead, his hand hovered over a spot on the upper left of his chest, mindful of the brand that Hades had blessed him with many years ago. “Quite frankly, it’s been a thorn in my side for decades.”
        “A simple reminder of what you owe me.” Hades corrected him, stepping out of the light. His towering figure loomed over Lyrem. Hades snapped his fingers, bringing more light into the cavernous realm. Deep bluish hues overtook them both, painting Hades’ stark white beard with a cobalt glow.
        “Your essence, your memories, everything you are,” Hades spoke; his voice echoed through the deep, dark gloom, “belongs to me.”
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98prilla · 4 years ago
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Hidden Shapes
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AO3
...
“Virgil!”
 “Kiddo, come out, please!”
 “Doom and Gloom, we’re worried about you, please!” Roman looks up, surveying the trees scowling. “This is pointless. He could be anywhere, you heard Janus, he’s an expert at hiding.”
 “We can’t just leave him! If we don’t find him, he’s just going to become more and more convinced we don’t want him at all, I won’t leave him out here, where anything could get him!” Patton protests, voice shaking, and Roman stops, turning to face him.
 “Padre. I know, trust me, I know, it’s taken us a long time to get there, but I care for him too, and I hate… this, as much as you do, but,” He takes breath, steadying his voice, “Virgil has experience, surviving out here, much more than you do, than I do, on Remus’s side. He is fight or flight. Anything out here, he can either out run or out do. It’s the creatures that should be avoiding him.”
 “How… how do you know that?” Roman smiles ruefully, rubbing the back of his head.
 “I’ve gotten into a couple… close calls. I don’t know how he knows, but he always does, when it’s real, not just part of the story, not just for the dramatics. Oh, you should see him fight, Patton, it’s… well. It’s something else.” Terrifying, was the word he was going to use, terrifying and incredible, the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen, movements almost too fast to follow, every punch and kick followed by cracking bone, his eyes glowing violet, imprinting in the air, confusing the enemy as to which is real, until there’s a thousand eyes staring at them, and they tear themselves apart. It’s a terrible beauty, a terrifying grace, an electric elegance, it’s the only time Roman ever sees Virgil truly, one hundred percent sure of himself, confident and tall and unafraid, and it makes him wonder, each time, just how much of himself Virgil is holding back.
 Well, they have a partial answer now, don’t they?
“Roman-“ Patton gasps, cutting himself off as he pushes past Roman, sprinting over, grabbing a piece of cloth off the ground. A patch, from his hoodie. And there, beyond the tree line…
 The ground is scuffed, grass torn up, another fabric patch pressed into the dirt. Examining closer, Roman inhales sharply, seeing a few drops of blood. Boot imprints and a long drag mark, where the earth had been flattened, a tail.
 He kneels, pressing a hand to the ground, feeling the slight tingle of magical residue, the all too familiar pop and sting.
 “Dragon witch.” He growls, shoving to his feet, stalking away before spinning back around, fire in his eyes. “She took him.”
 “What… what does that mean?” Patton asks, voice shaking once more, in fear.
 “That we have to get him back. I should be able to work a trace, to find where she took him. Pat… you should go home. This is dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
 “no. No, Virgil's already hurt, and I’m not going home without him. This…this is my fault, and I’m going to fix it.” He can see the determination in Patton's eyes, the fierceness there, and knows he won’t win this battle.
 “alright. Alright, padre. Come here. Let’s work some magic.”
“EN GUARDE FOUL FIEND-"
 “shuthefuckupRoman!” Is not what he expected to be whisper screeched at him by Remus, who is seated at a table, feet resting atop it, the dragon witch sitting across from him, both of them now glaring at him.
 “What- Remus- where-"
 “Hush for once in your life. He is fine, and finally resting, no thanks to you, no doubt.” Roman bristles at that, eyes narrowing.
 “What is that supposed to mean?”
 “It means unlike you and your precious standards of purity, I’ve never hurt him, or made him fear himself. Hate himself.” Her eyes flash, a puff of smoke escaping the corners of her mouth, and he feels suddenly small.
 “ok, everyone, let’s just calm down for a second.” Patton steps out from behind him, a sheepish smile on his face as he properly enters the home. “um. Hi! I’m Patton. Nice to meet you.” He ignores Roman hissing his name, extending his hand. The witch glances at Remus, who shrugs, before accepting.
 “Tabitha. It is… overdue, I suppose. Take a seat.” She offers, Patton easily slipping into a chair, Roman making a sputtering noise, before sulkily stomping into a chair, eyes flicking from person to person.
 “And what are you doing here!?” he finally explodes, glaring at Remus, who raises a brow.
 “This is where Virgie went. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
 “Why is Virgil here?” Patton interrupts before Roman can go off, his question full of genuine curiosity instead of accusation, catching Tabitha off guard.
 “And how do we know you haven’t done anything to him?”
 “oh come off that high horse, RoRo.” Everyone freezes at a small sound from the back of the room, Patton and Roman catching sight of Virgil for the first time, covered in blankets and sleeping soundly, a small smile on his face, a tiny dragon curled around his head.
 “does that assuage your doubts, your highness?” Her voice isn’t heated, now, just a tad bitter, a faraway look on her face, a gentle smile lighting up her eyes as she looks at Virgil, an expression so far from her normal ferocity and disdain that he can barely reconcile it.
 “He always used to come here. When he was still with us. Practically lived here. Then, well, everything happened and we fell out of touch, but I knew when he panicked, this is where he’d go.”
 “I found him bleeding and broken on the ground. He was never like this, before he moved, he used to be so… himself. Now he is constantly afraid, to let any of himself show.”
 “I know. And that’s… a lot of that is my fault, even though I didn’t mean to make him feel that way, I did. But I’m not scared of him. He’s… he’s one of my kiddos! Creepy crawly death dealer and all.” Tabitha looks at him hard, for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh.
 “Well, that’s a start, I suppose. You just have to convince him, of it, which will not be an easy task.”
 “Come on, Ro, time for us to get going.” Roman's brows skyrocket as he looks incredulously at Remus, then at Patton.
 “I am not leaving Patton here, alone, with her!”
 “Roman. If I intended harm I would already have acted. Contrary to your belief, I am not a villain. I am just as much an actor as you.” Roman opened his mouth to say something, Patton's hand on his shoulder stopping him.
 “I don’t wanna overwhelm him, when he wakes up, but I need to be here. I’ll be fine, Ro. Go update Janus and Logan, I’m sure they’re worried, too.” He hesitates, but nods reluctantly, glancing back at Virg. He looks so… peaceful, a rare thing, for the anxious side, even in sleep, and he feels another twinge of guilt.
 “Take care of them.” His voice is hoarse, as he meets her eyes, and she nods.
 “On my life, nothing will harm them.” Then he takes Remus's hand, and they sink out.
….
Noises. Muffled by the blankets around him, but they manage to make it through his sleepy mind. The sound of pans clanking against each other, of measuring cups tapping against bowls. A soft conversation, a warm voice followed by a low giggle.
 He rolls over, a small smile on his lips as he stretches, blinking open his eyes, trying to decipher what he is looking at.
 Patton, nose dusted with flour, stirring a bowl held in his arms, giggling up at Tabitha, who looks slightly exasperated, flour covering her apron. He can smell yeast, something baking, something sweet.
 “whoops.” Tabitha huffs a laugh, attempting futily to brush off the flour.
 “I told you to stir slowly, sunshine.” She gently takes the bowl from Patton, slowly folding in the flour.
 Neither have noticed him, yet, as he swings his legs over the edge of the cot, sitting up and stretching once more, noticing with relief that his spider traits have shifted away. Usually they’re controllable, but Janus's bite made it impossible to hide the truth, trapping him in the semi form, until it wore off.
 Oh. Everything came crashing back in on him, suddenly, the warm content of seconds ago fleeing into a cold fear. His breath hitches as he pulls his knees up, the movement getting their attention.
 “Virgil. Hey kiddo. How you feeling?” Patton asks softly, moving just a few steps closer, crouching down to be at his level. Virgil hugs his knees, looking away, taking in a shaking breath. Patton can see the little button eyes under his normal ones, shiny and dark, before they blink shut, hidden.
 “sorry. I’m… I… sorry.”
 “No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He just shakes his head, burying it against his knees. Patton sounds so soft, and he can’t handle that, he doesn’t want his pity, he doesn’t want to exploit that, doesn’t want Patton to care just because he has to. “virg, honey, look at me.” He shakes his head again, voice trapped in his throat. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, though he leans into it, when it goes to pull away, and now he’s pressed against Patton’s side, breathing in his soothing scent of laundry and warm bread.  
 “I love you, Virg. I’m so, so, sorry, that I made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself. You’re wonderful and amazing and perfect, and I couldn’t be prouder of you, kiddo, I really couldn’t.”
 “I’m the bad one. L-like always. N-n-no matter how hard I try, I’m always the wrong one, or the bad one, or the scary one, and I… I don’t want to be, I don’t… I can’t even help it this time, it’s just… just what I am.”
 “Hey. That’s not true. You aren’t bad, kiddo, you aren’t scary, at least, not when you don’t want to be.” That gets a small sniffle laugh, and he continues on, “youe animal traits don’t make you bad. Janus has scales and fangs, and we don’t treat him as evil or scary, anymore, right?” He nods, shakily inhaling.
 “that’s different.” He mumbles. “he isn’t-“
 “A spider?” Patton finishes, and Virgil hums in agreement. Patton shifts away, making Virgil wince, curl in on himself a little tighter. “Kiddo, look at me.” Virgil inhales shakily, looking up at Patton, eyes red rimmed and watery. “can I see? I didn’t really, before, you darted away so fast.”
 “o-ok.” He stutters, swiping a sleeve across his face, before taking a deep breath, letting his legs unfurl from his back, settle on the ground around him, his teeth lengthen into fangs, his extra eyes open, near glowing violet, an aura of darkness surrounding him, hazing his form as he stands, much taller than usual, with the extra height afforded him by his legs, though he still has his usual slightly thin and willowy look.
 “Can I..?” Patton asks, gesturing towards one of his legs, and Virgil looks startled, that he hasn’t screamed or fainted or run away by now, not that he can blame him.
 “yeah, I guess.” He shivers slightly at the hand against his leg, an unfamiliar sensation, though not unpleasant. He’s staring a bit surprised at Patton, who’s tentatively smiling, meeting his eyes with that same softness still in them.
 “They’re soft! It’s like… like petting a bumblebee!” He blushes slightly, ducking his head. “your eyes are pretty, too. Like a cat’s when they’re happy, all dilated and huge.”
 “Pat, stop.” He groans, face nearly beat red, he’s flushing so furiously.
 “Nope. Because you are perfect, kiddo. I love you. And nothing changes that, ok?” Patton asks, as he shifts away his spider traits, except for his extra eyes, which stay in place. “Are those there all the time?” Patton asks, Virgil biting his lip as he nods.
 “yeah. They’re like Jan’s scales. Usually I cover them up with the eyeshadow. It’s dark enough you can’t see them, even open, unless you know what to look for.” He yelps, stumbles, as Patton barrels into him, wrapping him in a giant bear hug, squeezing him so hard he can barely breathe, though it feels oddly nice.
 “you don’t have to hide them. You don’t have to hide, not ever. I promise.” He inhales sharply, then he’s crying, tears streaming down his face, and he can’t stop, the relief is so sweet, the weight lifting off his shoulders and allowing him to breathe easy for the first time, truly, since he’d moved to the light side. The stress of keeping everything hidden away, out of sight, watching what he says, does. It’s all melting away and leaving a lightness in its wake he doesn’t know what to do with, besides cry.
 “You’re r-really n-not scared?” He mumbles.
 “Of course not, Virg. It’s just… you, after all! Now, maybe if I was coming down the stairs at 3am and saw you glowing from the kitchen, that would be a different story.” Virgil laughs wetly again, finally stepping back as the timer dings, Patton’s face lighting up. “Oh, we made muffins! Tabby showed me her recipe, they’re sugared blackberry.” He spares a glance at Tabitha, who’s own face a slight scarlet, grinning.
 “Tabby, huh? Did she tell you those are my favorite? Whenever I was having a real bad day, we’d make those together.”
 “Yes, and the little heathen that you were, always trying to shove three into your face at a time, like some kind of rabid squirrel.” Patton giggles, and he shrugs.
 “Lived with Remus. You gotta expect me to pick up some habits from him.” He answers, slipping into a chair, Tabitha ruffling his hair, before pulling the pan out of the oven, setting it on the windowsill. “And Jan was just trying to keep us from killing each other.”
 “You fought a lot?” Virgil snorts, shaking his head.
 “Nah. Usually it was all in good fun, though our version of fun involved a lot more biting, pincers, stabbing, and far too many limbs, than you guys’ probably does, but there were times where I was having a bad day, and Remus always enjoys poking the bear, to see what happens when it does get angry. Part of the reason I started hiding out here, instead of the dark side. Remus camouflages, part of being an octopus. He could literally be anywhere at any moment waiting to pop out and scare me, or whatever, and some days that just… it was too much.” Patton is silent, mulling over what Virgil had said, biting his lip.
 “I didn’t know that. You never… really talked about it, being over there. I always thought it was because you hadn’t been happy, but… you were, weren’t you?” He sighs, shoving his hand through his hair.
 “It’s… complicated. I was. For a long time, I was, and I loved them, and I know they loved me back, took care of me, but things… changed. Thomas grew. And so did we. And Janus started becoming bitter, about being hidden away in the dark, started wanting more. And Roman stopped playing with Remus, which made him hurt and angry, which made him louder and more violent. And everything seemed… scarier, to me. Everything was scarier. There was all this tension and Janus became colder, absorbed in all the ways he’d get revenge, and Remus was wilder, not in the fun, tussling way we’d had with each other, but actually violently wilder, and I didn’t trust him not to hurt me on purpose, anymore. And I started drawing away from them both, isolating myself, my own anxiety not helping anything, telling me they hated me anyway, so what am I even doing, here?
Then… then the door showed up, and suddenly I was on the stairs in the living room, with all of you, and it wasn’t… great, my reception, but it wasn’t nearly as scary, as what life had become, so I thought, maybe I can do this. Dee didn’t really give me a choice. He was furious, he was so angry, that after everything, I had shown myself. Really, he was jealous it was me, the door had appeared to, that it was me who hadn’t done anything to deserve it, hadn’t worked for it, hadn’t aimed for it, that got to meet Thomas, after all his years of trying to figure out how to do just that and failing. I left.
But it wasn’t much of a choice. Janus made it clear I was no longer welcome, and there would be consequences, if I showed back up. Thinking about the good times, the happy parts, just made it hurt, so I shoved those away, and let myself only focus on the bad, only remember the fear and the pain and the hurt, because otherwise… otherwise I think it would have killed me, leaving like that. They were my family.
And they didn’t want me, and you all didn’t want me, and I just… I just decided, why am I even trying? Why do any of this, why… if no one wants me, fine, I’ll give everyone what they want, because it’s not like I wanted myself around, either. Then you came, anyway. And I said screw it, fuck them, I don’t care about them anymore, I have something better now, people who actually care, and want me, and it made me so angry, even more angry, at Janus and Remus, because I could barely remember ever feeling like that, with them. I hadn’t in so long, it was easier to pretend I never had at all. And now… now I guess we’re back where we started, all together in a group and I just…
I keep waiting, for it to all fall apart, again. For it all to shatter, and it scares me, Pat, it scares me so badly because I can’t make that choice again, I don’t… I don’t know who I’ll choose.”
 “You won’t. You will never have to go through something like that again, Virg, I promise. No matter what happens, we are not splitting up again, and I was so wrong, to let it happen in the first place. It just hurt all of us. No one is being sent away, never, ever, ever.” He states it firmly enough, conviction shining in his eyes, that Virgil can almost believe him.
 “yeah. Ok, pat.” He looks away, huffing out a breath, blowing at his bangs. “We should probably head back, shouldn’t we?” He’s not exactly looking forwards to it, but he knows the others are bound to be worried.
 “probably. But there’s no harm in staying a little longer, if you need.” He catches Patton’s small smile, Tabitha beaming softly at the both of them, pride radiating off of her, and he looks down at the table, a warmth settling into his chest.
 “ok. Toss me those muffins, ‘Tabby’, I’ve got some stress eating to accomplish.”
48 notes · View notes
pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years ago
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animaniacs - s1e60: the cranial crusader
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sorry this one’s late! i went out tonight. it was nice. uvu
episode summary: after realising that the superhero they apparently live with has just one guy left to take down, the mice don capes and masks in the hope that getting there first will gain them noteriety.
the rundown:
we open on a shot of Mouse Car.
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according to the narration it’s an opossum car, actually. never mind! rodents are of course interchangeable. opossum car is owned by the caped opossum, who seems to be doing some cool shit with it.
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yeet.
thankfully, despite his track record with dangerous driving, the caped opossum makes it home safely, it seems.
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good for him.
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“chalk up another caped opossum law enforcement victory, alphonse.” obviously, yes, he’s supposed to be batman, but he’s less batman and more a man who’s been smoking 70 a day for longer than i have been alive.
good thing alphonse doesn’t seem to mind! if we’re going full batman here he probably raised the dude, so i can only assume his chainsmoking habits were encouraged.
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“astounding, sir. remote?
“thanks.”
as the caped oppossum trundles off to “see if he’s made the eleven o clock news”-- oh? is that a grumpy boy we see in the background?
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oh, that is an extra grumpy boy, today. something about superheroes must piss him off. either that, or AKOM got hold of this one.
brain pauses his seething temporarily to devote his attention to pinky, who is narfing quite happily to himself.
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“what spectacular adventure awaits the caped opossum in his next issue?”
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“grow up, pinky.”
the boys are fighting ):
brain’s in a bad mood today, apparently. as the two of them bicker over whether the opossum is a “crime fighting genius” (pinky) or “a self obsessed, nocturnal loon with a dreadful fashion sense” (brain) the aforementioned object of their discourse is watching the news.
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it’s captivating enough for the mice to stop mid-callout post, anyway. i’m so sorry this is the only frame i could get of pinky. flashdance.
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“tonight, the caped opossum’s calling card was found again, making a near perfect record for the masked marsupial.”
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“except for!” oh god it’s this horrifying lady again. “arch fiend johnny badnote.”
(me: what would you do if i changed my name to johnny badnote? my boyfriend: scream.)
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“that cursed johnny badnote! he’s the only thing standing between me and true superhero fame.”
and then he starts to cry and has to be taken away by alphonse.
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to that, brain makes a funny face. i’m not sure why.
“are you pondering what i’m pondering?”
“i think so, brain, but i can’t memorise a whole opera in yiddish.”
okay.
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as brain picks the lock on their cage-- actually, as brain does that i need to tell you that for some reason there are horrifying squelching noises at this part. i have no idea why. it’s like there’s a portal in there leading to a pasta bake. be thankful you can’t hear them from here. it’s incredibly visceral.
but anyway, no, as he squishes around in there, he explains to pinky that he shall “become a costumed, crime fighting hero, and thwart johnny badnote, overshadowing the caped opossum.” and then he’ll be so famous he’ll be elected, like, world president or something, immediately.
worked for batman. so anyway they go off and do that i guess.
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TAADAAAAAA.
MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS. pinky actually looks sick as hell. i love it. i’m sure i went to class dressed like this once or twice. what an icon! hell yeah! the pink wonder is ready for action!!!
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brain has put an awful lot of effort into padding out his muscles, and none at all into wearing any trousers.
hm.
undeterred by the possibility of Embarrassing Slip, the Cranial Crusader (which is his new name now) (better than the john, i guess) shows off his own calling card, which is basically just art theft.
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not particularly original. still, they have shit to do, so they go off and steal mr opossum’s car.
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which is a crime in itself, but they’re not going to let that stop them.
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somehow, brain magically knows where johnny badnote’s hideout is. how? i can’t say. maybe he left his details at the Secret Club For People Named John B that they both go to.
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“too bad we can’t use the power possum’s prehensile tail hook to lower ourselves down.” says pinky, who is in the middle of drawing The Caped Crusader Comic Book.
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“why, who says we can’t?”
so they do.
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good thing there’s no danger in dangling precariously over the edge of a cliff like that.
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ah! wait, no, the train says you can’t. sorry, brain.
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oof.
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the mice are fine, don’t worry. pinky is immune to damage and brain had an albinistic edition of the yellow pages to break his fall.
look at his FEETS.
but that aside. the mice are undeterred, and pinky suggests they use the “power sniffer” to sniff out johnny badnote’s lair, and pushes a bunch of buttons to make that happen.
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“you seem to know much of the crimefighter business, pinky.”
“i learnt everything from comic books.”
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et voila! the power sniffer!
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seems to be in working order. “egad!” yells pinky, “it must really smell something stinky!” before immediately crashing into the wall.
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lol.
conclusion:
so it... doesn’t actually take them that long to identify that they’ve crashed right into johnny badnote’s lair.
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regular bard, this dude. brain mentions that “thwarting the arch-twerp johnny badnote should be child’s play,”
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before they get squoshed by a piano. hee hee.
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“if that’s not a song cue,” says the adult progeny of the snow and heat misers, “my name isn’t johnny badnote!” and his name is johnny badnote, so you can tell it’s-- it’s the-- never mind.
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he cradles the mice so gently in his palm, and tells them enthusiatically that he’s going to blow up the world.
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OH I’M JOHNNY BADNOTE ARCHFIEND FELON SLIME
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THE PUBLIC DIDN’T LIKE MY SONGS AND SO I TURNED TO CRIME
i love this bastard. he ties the mice to this giant egg.
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“when my metronome yanks out your firing pin, my music box egg grenade will play lovely music for a few, precious, seconds, before kaboom! it gives me your last downbeat!”
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“you call that a diabolical plan?” says brain, who is pictured near the bottom there. he’s the tiny white blob.
“oh, there’s more. when i hear that downbeat, i’ll play my missile launching pipe organ and blow up the wooooorld!”
man, i love this guy! why doesn’t he come back? i want him in every episode of the reboot.
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“is that diabolical enough?”
“yes.”
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but! as johnny badnote prepares himself to play the Johnny Bad Notes, he, uh.
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he forgets they’re mice, and they can just... wriggle out.
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with a triumphant “narf”, pinky rescues his beloved comic book,
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and manages to yeet the grenade in the process.
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oops.
still, never mind. nothing bad could come of that. brain leaves his Art Theft Calling Card.
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“pinky, let’s get out of here.”
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“hey, what’s keeping that downbeat?”
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well, job done, i suppose. satisfied, the mice head back to the... possum cave? i guess?
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but oh wait, what’s this?
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you have got to be kidding me.
still, the imperceptively convenient inkblots do their job, and the mice get the bad news a little later, from the weird, weird looking woman from earlier.
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“in other news tonight, johnny badnote was finally captured by a masterful crime fighter and great hero--”
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“the caped oppossum.”
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well.
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that’s... that, i guess.
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brain turns off the tv. his facial features seem to have shrunk in righteous rage.
brain: 3 ½ pinky: 5 ½ outside influence: 7
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“minature crimefighters??? i’ve got to get out more.”
19 notes · View notes
kurooskitten · 5 years ago
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All Eyes on Me. [Kuroo Tetsurou]
A/N: i got inspiration for this while finishing my biochem hw packet 😗 and like, kuroo’s canonically really good at biochemistry so it works out
Summary: Kuroo sees you need a little more encouragement to get your work done.
18+ content ahead!
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“Stressed” was an understatement.
You felt like you were being completely and utterly destroyed by your classes at the moment, and the fact that you had procrastinated so much on your biochemistry homework packet and didn’t pay much attention in class didn’t help either.
You had answered everything that you could with your note packet you had gotten in class, but as for anything the packet didn’t mention? You were stumped. Swamped.
As a last resort, you called your boyfriend.
“Yoww!” The greeting that could’ve usually made you giggle elicited no reaction from you.
“Hey, Kuroo? Can you come over?”
You hear shuffling on the other end of the line.
“Uhhh, practice just finished up. I can head over after everything’s taken care of back here if you’d like.”
You sighed in relief. “Please. I really need your help with this damned biochem homework.”
He chuckled. You were positive he was grinning on the other end. “Oh? Is my Kitten having trouble in class?”
You groan, sliding your hand down your face. “Oh, put a lid on it. I have other classes I’ve been worrying about, you know. Not everybody just ‘gets it’ like you do.”
“I’m only teasing you.” You hear more shuffling and a sigh escape from his lips. “Alright, you big baby, I’m on my way. Don’t give up till I get there, alright? I’m not doing the whole thing for you.”
“I know, I know. Just— hurry up, okay?”
He chuckled. “Alright. See you in a few. I love you.”
“I love you, too. See you soon.”
With that, the call came to an end, with you resting your head on your arms; a sound of distress escaping from your lips.
“Oh my goddddddd!”
——
If you were being completely honest, by the time the door bell rang, you’d only gotten about 5 more questions done.
‘It’s been half an hour and I barely scratched the surface!’ You groaned internally and dragged yourself to the door, looking up exasperatedly at your amber-eyed boyfriend.
“Who pissed in your cheerios?”
“The fucking science teacher.”
He let out a hardy laugh at your retort as he followed behind you back to where you set up shop in your living room; your textbook opened with others stacked beside it, your folder, an open notebook with a pen on it, highlighters, and the thick, 5 page packet you were currently working out of.
“At least you’re organized.”
You scoff and sat down next to the coffee table where you were seated, Kuroo sitting next to you and taking out his own supplies.
The tomcat was a lot more organized than people would give him credit for. His handwriting was neat and pleasing to the eye, his books were color coded, and he never forgot a single material needed to complete his work that night. His set up was much more minimalistic than yours, but contained the essentials nonetheless.
“I will never be able to get over how nice your handwriting is, Tetsu.”
He chuckled, grinning at you. “Stop gawking and get to work, you fiend.”
You huffed and turned to your packet, but couldn’t find the motivation or will to even pick the damn thing up. You could feel Kuroo's eyes flicker from the packet to your face multiple times before he sighed and shifted where he sat.
"You're gonna need some motivation, aren't you Kitten?"
You felt your cheeks heat up at the pet name he gave you, setting your face in your hands in an attempt to cool off your warming face. "I have no motivation to work right now, Tetsurou."
In response, he grinned. "How about we play a game, hm?"
You raise an eyebrow.
Kuroo says nothing, but instead pulls you to sit between his legs where his arms quickly found themselves around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a little squeak as his breath tickled the shell of your ear when he spoke.
“For every question you answer, I’ll reward you.”
One of his hands leaves the clasp of his other that sat at your waist to slip underneath your t-shirt and rub the skin that it hid. You felt yourself swallow a lump that was forming in your throat. “And if I get it wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll go through and correct them later. For now, all that matters is that you start writing, Kitten.”
You nod shakily and inhale deeply to calm your nerves before sliding your packet over and grabbing your pen.
“What are the four types of organic compounds?”
‘Oh,’ you thought. ‘This is easy!’
As you wrote down your answer you couldn’t help but think of how much Kuroo’s presence (and his proposition) both motivated and calmed your nerves. ‘Boom. Carbohydrates, lipids, nucleus acids, and proteins.’
“Nicely done, Kitten.”
You feel the hand that had slipped underneath the edge of your top slide higher up, tracing where the underwire of your bra met your skin. The lips that were hovering above your ear began placing soft kisses in a trail all the way from behind it to the dip in your shoulder.
You felt yourself instinctively fall back into his touch, your head rolling to the side to give him more room to work, but he just chuckled against your skin and went to whisper in your ear again.
“Nuh-uh-uh, Kitten. You have to work.”
You let out a frustrated huff (which was borderline a whine) and attempt to collect yourself. ‘Okay,’ you thought. ‘’Explain the differences between a monosaccharide, disaccharide, and polysaccharide sugar.’’
You smiled slightly. You’ve seen all this material before. This was more review than anything. Why were you so stressed before?
You wrote down your answer.
‘Monosaccharides all have the formula C12H22O6 and a single ring structure. Disaccharides are double sugars with the formula C12H22O11. Polysaccharides are formed out of three or more simple sugar units.’
You feel yourself smile once again, however, it’s short lived as your boyfriend hums against your neck and begins groping your breast through the fabric of your bra. The hand that held you still in his lap abandoned its idle state to pop open the buttons of your jeans.
“Hahh ..”
“Get back to work, Kitten.”
You muster the best nod you can, and read the next quest from behind lidded eyes. “Explain two factors that can denature enzymes.”
You try to open your eyes wider so you don’t mess up writing. ‘Extreme pH values and extremely high temperatures.’
Kuroo doesn’t make a noise of approval this time, but instead slips his hand into your panties, rubbing circles onto your clit.
You find yourself gripping at his arm for support (even though you’re sitting down, laying against his built figure), as if letting go meant certain death.
His other hand busies itself with undoing your bra clasp, sliding the cups underneath your breasts and pinching your nipples.
“Oh my god—“
He licks a long stripe from the juncture of your neck to the middle of your ear, biting down on the cartilage.
“One more, babygirl. All I want is one more.”
You could feel your face flush an even deeper shade of red at his words and the feeling of his own arousal pressing against your back. You struggled to form your next words.
“I— I can’t, fuck-“
The sound he lets out at your whine is scarily similar to that of a cat purring. “I know you can. C’mon. One. More.”
As some extra encouragement, he speeds up his fingers on your clit, adding an extra to slide down and push at your entrance ever-so-slightly.
You inhale shakily, and grip your pen with a deathly tight grip, hoping it will keep you from dropping it mid-sentence. You knew Kuroo would stop if you didn’t give him one more answer, and you wouldn’t let that happen.
You could barely make out the question on the paper. “List the major functions of proteins in the body.”
‘Easy enough,’ you thought to yourself, your very own thoughts barely coherent as your mind fogged up with pleasure like a mirror in a bathroom when the shower was running.
‘Growth, repair, energy formation, and to act as a buffer to help keep the body’s pH constant.’
You felt Kuroo grin against your neck one more as he muttered a good job and pushed the lingering finger into you, slowly pumping itself in and out of your body. You whine quietly at the feeling, knowing that last question you answered was your ticket to bliss.
“Take off your shirt for me, baby.”
You sit up slightly, trying not to dislodge the finger inside of you and shed your shirt; tossing it haphazardly to some forgotten corner of the room. Your bra soon follows, sliding the straps off your shoulders to bare your chest to your lover.
He gently gropes your mounds before sliding that calloused hand up your chest to grip your jaw softly, turning your face to his. He stares into your eyes for a moment, those amber eyes now molten pools of gold— both glazed and brimming with lust and desire.
He lowers his face to yours, kissing your lips hungrily as his ministrations on both your breasts and clit become quicker. The finger inside your walls becomes more accurate, and you can’t help but spreading your legs more in a way to let your boyfriend reach further inside of you.
All of your cries and moans were swallowed eagerly by the raven haired tomcat of a boy who was intent on kissing and biting your lips swollen and raw. He neglected his own erection to reward you for you hard work— your own satisfaction more important than his own.
A second finger was added, stretching you out deliciously as you clenched around it in earnest. You pulled away from Kuroo to let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and he just grinned that cheshire grin of his before taking to your neck to leave a large hickey where no one would be able to see but you and him.
Your pants grew labored and your moans increased in volume as Kuroo carried you towards release, shutting your eyes and letting the tingly sensation of the build up envelope your body.
Kuroo pulled away from your neck to growl into your ear huskily.
“Go on, cum for me, Kitten. Cum on my hand. I know you want, too. You deserve it.”
You found yourself gripping his arm a little tighter this time around, your nails digging crescent moons into his bicep as you bit your puffy and red lips to try to stifle the noise, the effort ultimately failing as your jaw dropped open to let the noise of pleasure out from the depths of your throat.
“Look at me, Kitten. Let me see your face.”
You turned your head best you could as your eyes fluttered shut, although you were able to catch the predatory look that lingered in his eyes. You heard Kuroo groan as you spasmed around his fingers— your moan catching in your throat and turning into a broken whine. He never let up in the motion of his hand while you came, determined to help you ride out your high to the fullest.
When you finally stopped squirming in his grasp, he pulled his fingers out from your panties and removed his hand from your swollen breasts. You opened your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s who quickly slipped the digits still covered in your slick into his mouth, keeping eye contact all the while. You felt yourself involuntarily whining at the sight and he just chuckled.
“Now, how about we get you cleaned up and then finish this packet, yeah? I think you’re motivated enough now.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. God, did you love this man.
104 notes · View notes
ofstarsandvibranium · 6 years ago
Text
Pull Over
Fandom: Marvel (Cop AU - SACS Universe)
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky decide to try out a little roleplay...
Warning: smut, semi-public
A/N: tagging my chubby!bucky lover counter part, @cametobuyplums
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You were driving down a rocky road. It was abandoned and the sun was setting. You usually don’t go this route, but you were desperate to get home to be in the arms of your love. 
Your foot added more pressure onto the gas. Your speed increasing with every second, eventually surpassing the advised speed limit of the road. Your body was buzzing from excitement of seeing your love soon as well as from the couple of beers you had at the bar with your friends. So into getting home, you weren’t aware of the cop car that was hiding behind a tree and soon enough you saw those red, white, and blue lights flashing behind you.
You cursed to yourself as you pulled over to the side, coming to halt and putting your car in break. You kept your hands on the wheels and waited for the officer to approach you. Your heart was pounding in your ears. When the crunch of the rocky pavement became louder and louder and to a sudden stop, that was when you rolled down your window and looked up at the officer.
You innocently smiled at him, “How may I help you today, officer?”
He cleared his throat, leaning down to become eye level with you, “Ma’am, do you know how fast you were speeding?”
You shrugged, “Can’t say I do, officer-”
“Sergeant.”
“Sergeant...?”
“Barnes.”
“Barnes. Well, Sergeant Barnes, I’m sorry to say that I don’t know how fast I was going. My brain was just on autopilot. Lots of things on my mind, you see.”
“Like what, ma’am?”
You shrugged again, “List of things to do. Dishes to wash, bills to pay, boyfriend to fuck.”
“To fuck, eh?”
You nodded, “My boyfriend is quite the sex fiend. Looks like he’s quite the gentle, softy, and he can be, but really he’s such a beast in bed.”
Sergeant Barnes licked his lips, “I see. Well, that boyfriend of yours must be lucky to have a gal like you. You must tire ‘im out.”
You shook your head, “Not at all, sarge. He’s quite energetic and enthusiastic when it comes to our bedroom activities.” you lean in, face mere centimeters away from Sergeant Barnes’, “You see, officer, my boyfriend is a bit older than me. He says he’s an old man and all that, but he’s just as spritely as us young folk. A lot better than guys my age too.”
“You like older men, huh?”
“Very much and, if I may say...you’re very handsome, Sergeant Barnes.”
Barnes licked his lips again, his head looking left and right to see if any cars were coming his way, “Lemme tell ya something. How’bout we make a deal: you, uh, sample me some of your moves and I won’t give you a ticket.”
You looked at him excitedly, “No ticket, you say?” 
He shook his head, “No ticket. Just a little slap on the wrist and a fair warning, and you’re off your merry way.”
You giggled and it just riled him up even more, “I can’t say no to that, can I?” you opened your car door to allow Barnes to get closer to you, “What would you like to sample, sarge?” you bat your lashes seductively up at him. 
“Well, sweetheart, it seems like you like to talk a lot. Why don’t we use that mouth of yours for something else, hm?” his hands fumble with his belt, the metal clinking as he unbuttons his pants and pushes it down to reveal his hard, leaking cock, “Now, sugar, you’re gonna suck my cock like a good little girl. Got it?”
You nodded, “Yes, sarge,” and you immediately wrapped your fingers around Barnes’ length. You smirked when you heard a sharp inhale come from him and then a groan as you lowered your mouth onto his tip and down his shaft.
“Ah fuck, sugar, your mouth is fucking heaven.” he rests his hands on the top of your car, leaning in as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible. When your nose his the underside of his round stomach and you felt yourself begin to gag, you immediately pulled away. 
Sergeant Barnes was having none of that, “No, no, sweet thing, you gotta take all of me. Come on. I thought you were a good girl.” You nodded and let Barnes guide your head back down onto his cock. A hand wove through your hair and he gripped tight, using his hand to maneuver your head up and down his length. 
“Oh fuck yes, sugar. That’s it.” his eyes shut tight as he relished in the warmth and wetness of your mouth. One hand in your hair and the other in a tight fist on top of your car. Your head and his hips worked together as your mouth moved along his dick.
You looked up at Sergeant Barnes, the way that the golden hour shined upon him. The orange-gold hues making him look so goddamn sexy, highlighting his slightly chubby cheeks that were covered by his graying facial hair. 
You moved your hand to your clothed pussy. Pushing up your cocktail dress that you wore to the bar and moving aside the lace thong you wore with it, to touch your wet and wanting core. Just when your fingers began to rub fast circles along your hardened nub, your hand was snatched away.
“I didn’t say you could do that, sugar. I was going to fuck your pussy after this, but looks like you won’t be getting fucked at all. Couldn’t even bother to ask if you could touch yourself. Use those hands only on my cock, sweetness, nothing else.”
You groaned in disappointment as one hand wrapped along the base of his dick and the other fondled his balls. He continued to fuck your mouth as you did so. His face scrunching up in pleasure.
“Fuck yes! That feels so fucking good. I’m gonna cum down that pretty mouth of yours soon, sugar. Just keep playing with my balls like that, shit, yes. Like that. Oh goddamn!” he slaps a hand against your car startling you, but you continued to let your mouth be used by Sergeant Barnes.
“Shit. Yes, yes! Gonna cum! Agh! FUCK!” he pulls out your mouth, but only slightly. His own hand jerking off his cock. White spurts of his seed landing inside your mouth, onto your tongue, down your throat. He continues to pump his own cock until he’s spent. He lets out a growl as your lips wrap around him one last time, sucking off any remnants of his debauchery. With an evident gulp, you swallow his seed, opening your mouth to show proof. 
Sergeant Barnes bends down and presses a hard and rough kiss to your lips, “Goddamn, sugar,” he grumbles and then pulls away. You giggle as you help pull up his pants, zipping, buttoning, and buckling them back up again. 
“So, Buck, whatcha think?,” you ask cheerfully. 
Bucky wipes the sweat off his head, “Goddamn, sugar, that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever done. Not to mention risky.”
You nodded towards his cop car, the small blinking light on the dash notifying you that the dash cam was still on and recording, “Think you can swipe this footage so we can rewatch it?”
Bucky chuckled, “I’ll see if I could bribe IT. Might take a lot since Parker likes to ask a lot of ques-”
“Sergeant Barnes, this is Wilson, do you copy?” Bucky’s radio interrupted him.
Bucky sighed, mumbling, “Sorry,” and replying back, “Barnes, here.”
“We got a 10-66 that may need back up.”
Bucky groaned as he replied, “Yeah. I’ll be there, Sam. Gimme ten minutes.” he doesn’t wait for Sam’s reply before lowering the volume on his radio, “Sorry, sugar, looks like duty calls.”
Your shoulders sagged in disappointment, “Damn. I was really hoping to finish this back home.”
He chuckled, “Tell me ‘bout it. But I’ll get going to get this done as quick as possible. I’ll let you know when I’m coming home. I want you ready for me, ‘cause I needa return the favor.” he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. 
You giggled, “I’ll hold ya too it, sarge.”
“I love you, sugar.”
“Love you too, sarge.” you gave each other a wave before driving away in your respective directions. A sergeant’s job was never done.
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