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irenadel · 1 year

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Fear Leads the Way ch.3

Filthy smut ahead, now with more blood kink. Mentions of slavery. Some unhealthy power dynamics because DUH. Darth Maul x Reader and I think we can finally admit Savage Opress x Reader. He doesn’t like it tho. He will NOT go gentle into that good night.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The first time Maul cries in pain in your arms Savage sees red and thinks he will, at long last, be able to kill you. And you think you might let him.

It had taken weeks and weeks to get there and it wasn’t Maul who pushed through. The moment you had agreed to hold him at night it had seemed to be enough for Maul. As if all he had required to be content was for you to stop fighting his ownership of you. As if he knew once you did, you’d have nothing left but him.

You were no longer confined to their quarters… and admittedly no longer afraid to leave them lest you be punished the way you’d heard unruly pleasure slaves were. It was a strangely lonely experience though. You had even less to do than before, focusing solely on what was required of you by the Zabrak brothers (never Savage’s own cybernetics, no matter how much you winced at hastily laid out circuits and patched up nerve arrays, Maul was an excellent mechanic, but no biomechanical engineer) and you have to admit it may have been driving you a little insane. You used to do small tasks now and again for the syndicates: emergency procedures, hydraulic adjustments, little hacking jobs… part of you still hoping to save up enough to buy your freedom the way you’d heard some Hutt slaves still did. You’d worked for whoever would pay and sometimes whoever would not, as some of the higher ups in the Shadow Collective had decided to consider you at their general beck and call, so long as it didn’t interfere with your duties to Lord Maul.

Not anymore.

You are so indisputably Maul’s now that you wonder how you could have ever thought you were his before.

You never heard him announce it but somehow everyone seems to know and now they give you a wide berth. The Black Suns who used to sneer at you avoid making eye contact and the few Hutt emissaries that remain to try to make peace with the Shadow Collective have resorted to offering Maul a nicer, prettier bedslave. Maybe a more comely one, lither, less used up. You try not to show how you bristle at that. The Mandalorians, about as terrifying as the Sith Lords themselves, stand aside respectfully when you pass them by (you try not to think about how often you do pass one because you don’t want to acknowledge how much you’re being watched). For their part, the Pykes seem oddly pleased at the strange turn of events their little gift has produced, yet still continue their refusal to acknowledge you. That you understand. You were little more than a thing to them, and it was bitter, to have ended up here anyway, despite your best efforts. It tasted like copper and rage when you let yourself think about it too much, like a storm inside you brewing the desire to make someone, anyone, pay for this… and whenever you did and he was nearby, you saw Lord Maul glance your way, like a trained Tatooine massiff picking up the scent of blood.

In those moments, regardless of whatever else he might be doing, he would gesture for you to come near and would take your hand and hold it to his face, to his lips, almost smiling.

He didn’t look at you. He didn’t address you. But he kept you close, no chains, no locks, nothing else necessary to hold you but the sheer gravity of his presence. You hated it as much as you loved it.

You hated when he sneered at the Hutt party’s sniveling suggestions of an upgrade and you felt your stomach clench in fury and vindication. You hated the beautiful black gowns he kept leaving for you near the fresher, because you hadn’t seen fabric so heavy and fine and good since even before the war. Your mother had never had anything as beautiful as these. You held them to your face and refused to cry or tear them to pieces, you just put them away and continued to wear your old mechanic jumpsuit.

You didn’t hate lying beside him at night, no matter how much it stung your pride… but you did hate how touch seemed to be all he wanted from you. There had been no further amorous interludes after the first two, not in this bed, not the moment that Maul found out he could have the whole expanse of his arms and back and chest and neck touched at his pleasure. He had demanded that immediately and you had complied, and in your terrible fear of servitude and vulnerability you had never even imagined that touch was all that would pleasure him indeed. Or that it would be you, who would end up needing more, longing for his growls against your ear and the frantic grinding of his hips against yours. You didn’t hate his imperious commands for your hands, never detailed, never more than once, as if his dignity would not allow it (no thought to yours, ground to dust already by your humiliating longing for him). But you did hate how eagerly you jumped to obey and provide him all he wanted. Enough for Lord Maul but not for you and more than enough for his brother, who still slept fitfully besides you, always attentive to whatever noises the two of you would make. You couldn’t have ever known how right his vigilance had been.

Maul sighed and you could feel Savage about to jump out of his skin. Maul growled gravelly in his sleep, contentedly against the crook of your neck and you could almost feel Savage waiting to pounce. You had expected many things from your fate as his possession, but not this constant vigil.

You hadn’t expected to be so uncomfortably starved for his affection.

In all the stories you had heard whispered in Nar Shadda, in all your years as a refugee, making cybernetics for the poor and the destitute like you, living so close to slavery you could almost feel the bite of a Zygerrian collar or a Hutt implant, you had never imagined you’d be the one wondering when you would be kissed next. Or that you could hold someone so close you could feel twin hearts beating and still want more, need more, in spite of your terror and resentment of him.

The problem was that he purred. Lord Maul of the Shadow Collective purred loudly and constantly, rumbling, along the length of your body, lying between your legs, warm and hard and musky. He purred and it made everything inside you clench, desperately, hungry for his own hunger, for his tongue and his teeth and his hand wrapped around your neck, so tight and good you could still feel the thrill of it. For everything you had not asked for but still missed, for another go at his mouth and hearing him say please and ruin and want.

The second problem was that Savage purred too. Not as intimately close as Maul’s body draped across yours, but louder. Not at first either, and you would never know why or how long he had resisted this tell tale noise before he’d finally given in. Comfort having lulled him from his constant vigilance of Maul, eyes snapping open and alert at every new sound out of Maul’s mouth. Sounds that had seemed at first to Savage like Feral’s childish fretting or his own moans of protest after a hard night’s drinking to forget a visit from the Nightsisters. Then silence, the deep, even rhythm of his breath… and then like a blessing, like a memory from better times, his brother’s surprising content purring.

He had let himself be blinded by this. By this unexpected recovery of joy, of rightness… the comfort of his brother’s body so close at hand, the long-sought rumble of his dreamless sleep. He could’ve almost forgiven you for the weeks of anxious caution, for the fear… just because in your arms Maul sounded like a Nightbrother, a boy… or at least as far removed from whatever thing the Sith had tried to turn him into. It had been a rude awakening to catch the scent of your arousal in the air, to find you as dangerous and unpredictable as he had first thought you. Savage had snapped awake and watched you closely, waited, he didn’t know what for because you were no proper witch, but waited anyway, ready to fight for Maul, ready to make the Mother’s magic good for something, ready for anything but your strange refusal to act.

When you did move, it wasn’t towards his brother but away from him. You slipped a hand in between your bodies and for a stupid, senseless second Savage had thought it must have held a weapon to be wielded against Maul.

It wasn’t a vibroblade… but it was just as dangerous and even more confusing.

Your hand between your legs and it somehow took Savage a second to understand what you were doing in there, what treachery you were so clearly trying to hide.

He’d never heard of a Nightsister pleasuring herself, but there had been plenty of Nightbrothers in the communal huts. Savage had done it himself, a lifetime ago, when he still understood his life and his body. But he would not do it now, distrusted the ichor and the treachery of his kinslaying hands and it disturbed him how familiar, how nauseatingly enticing he found the quiet constrained sounds of your pleasure. A furtive, private pleasure you chose to take independent of Maul.

It made no sense, served no purpose, made no children, did not even bind his brother closer to you. All it did was flood the bed with warmth, with the musky, overpowering scent of your arousal, made Savage painfully aware of your human body, so like a Nightsister’s and yet so horribly alien at the same time.

Because you don’t yank either of them out of sleep with an order. You don’t demand combat and blood and horror. You choke down your thin little sounds, muffle your sudden desperate sob against the covers and make Savage’s skin break into goosebumps. There are no tears, no held back moans, when the Night people come together, there are no wet sounds of fingers reaching for solitary, desperate pleasure and Savage doesn’t understand why such a sounds should make his palms tingle or ichor seethe in his veins.

Savage doesn’t understand you at all, but Maul does.

“That,” he hears his brother hiss, terrifyingly awake, anger like molten lava “belongs to me.”

There’s the quick slap of Maul’s gloved hand snatching your own hands out of the way and you make another strange, otherworldly sound. Pained and high-pitched like a scream, but further back in your throat, like a wounded animal, a sound that Savage cannot fathom but which makes Maul growl and move over you.

“Please,” you beg and something in Savage’s stomach clenches because Nightsisters do not beg and Nightbrothers who beg never find themselves in a warm bed, heady with the stench of a woman’s wetness. But that please seems to do something to Maul, makes him yank your hands out of the way and above your head, your legs closing around Maul’s owns and Savage should be afraid, should be ready to flee or fight or kill, except Maul is still deeply, powerfully purring, like a boy with a full belly after a good hunt, like a young Nightbrother pumped full of spring joy, discovering the frenzied hungers of his own body, like a blessing and curse.

“You did it all wrong,” Maul whispers against your ear and Savage does not know how Maul thinks he can do this right because he knows nothing of this, of his own zabrak body drunk on your pheromones, of the danger of holding you down and holding you still and of how strange it is for you to still be begging please, please, please. Maul knows nothing but neither does Savage because he can hear your mewling, your horrible, terrible (wonderful) cry of pleasure and the squelching clench of your sex as Maul slips a still gloved finger inside you and makes you writhe and makes you sweat and makes you do things that have Savage panting for breath and desperately fighting an arousal he had almost thought gone from his life.

And Maul’s fingers are going in and out of you and Savage can hear it, like and unlike sex, deliciously suggestive of it but no treacherous velvet softness around his own member to distract him, no witch to protect his brother from, just your pitiful human body at Maul’s mercy and he can perhaps, for once, understand Maul’s obsession with power, with chains. Because if he could have you like this always, subdued and compliant, reeking of sex, of happiness, perhaps he would understand why his brother says that peace is a lie. Because this, Maul’s ragged breathing, your warm legs brushing Savage’s body whenever his brother pushes inside you too roughly, his own stubborn erection a dull and distant pleasure… This is better than peace.

Maul bites and you cry out in pain and joy. The blood he draws smells to Savage of Dathomir, except it’s not supposed to be yours and you’re no supposed buck under Maul, to beg for more, to make Savage want to flee, want to stay, want to bite down on something (you). He does not know what you’re supposed to do but Maul’s body does. And Savage can almost taste it when Maul slides between your legs. He knows the instinct, the insatiable hunger.

Because Maul is relentless, unskilled and determined and when you protest he snarls at you and makes you melt back into the bed. When your hips buck up his hands grind them back down and he is strong and impossible to guide and you’re at his mercy. And it’s both too much and not enough, each hot swipe of his tongue, each ravenous sound of ecstasy from deep in the back of his throat, reverberating against your legs and your sex and all of it is hot and alive under him.

Savage can feel it in the Force, ravenously, darkly pulsing between them. Feed, rend, take, breed. Every Nightbrother’s prayer, singing through Savage’s veins, through his groin and the unbearable hardness of his member. Because he wants that taste too, not yours, but the terrible taste of Maul’s sheer joy in you, in your thighs clamping against his horns, shredding the tender skin, wanting him so much, so much closer that blood is a price worth paying. The torrent of desire and lust and sheer want, that Maul can’t even stop. His tongue inside you, his teeth grazing you and his voice, whenever he deigns to stop for a breath, no longer velvety, but raw and impossibly deep panting yes, yes, yes.

And Savage can almost smell you climaxing, choking back his brother’s name and Maul’s making a noise like a wounded animal and lapping at the blood smearing your thighs too quick and too sudden. You’re still coming and you don’t want to stop and it’s that thoughtless desire that gives you the audacity to grab Maul’s hand and place it back on your sex if he intends to continue licking greedily at the stinging mess of your thighs.

You are too far gone to notice how immediately he obeys. Savage is too focused on keeping Dathomir’s echo from intruding. But Maul… Maul rips the glove from his hand with his teeth and thrusts his fingers inside you again, quick and efficient like he is Sidious’s weapon all over again, capable, perfect, powerful. Two, three fingers inside you and his thumb on your clitoris, because he’d prepared this time, sought the knowledge of your undoing, guides it via the flood of your scent and movements and screams. You’re screaming his name and he smiles, madly, a grimace with too many teeth.

Maul feels deliriously present, because he wants and he wants and wants and feels like he’s disappearing in desire like his master had said he would, if he focused his rage enough. But this is different. Blood and the addictive potency of your wetness, better than anger, than food, than comfort. Better than anything he’s ever tasted. A thing he’s making you do, with his hands and his mouth and his skill and he can’t wait to make you do it again and again, until you have no breath to say his name anymore, until you can’t scream it and remind him he exists.

Because that’s what you’re doing now, still panting Maul, Maul, rhythmically, in time with his fingers inside you, the whole heel of his hand incessantly, cruelly rubbing the whole of your sex, still wet, still painfully sensitive, still coming for him and only him.

“Lord Maul,” he corrects you in a growl you feel reverberate to your very bones and smiles wider, wilder when you echo him. Can’t help but dive back into you, this time catching your mouth with his own, wanting the taste of your screams. He’s fucking his hand into you so hard, he can almost feel it in a member he no longer has. Hates the muted quality of his lust, his passion, as much as he feels comforted by it. He has control, but at what price? It is not worthy of a Sith, this fear of his own hunger and he finds himself furiously taking it out on the already abused skin of your neck, biting you again, getting another heavenly mouthful of your blood.

But this time you do cry out in pain, tense up beneath him and his reaction is instinctive and immediate. First to subdue you, and then to peer into your face, anxious for a second and then annoyed at his show of weakness. It’s like the air’s been punched out of him, the moment he lays eyes on you: smeared with blood and yet still panting and reaching for him. You nudge something deep inside him, the memory of all the dead things he’d desired and had to forgo. Kilindi in her pool of blood. Eldra. Sidious’s women… and it’s nauseating how much it makes him want you. Agony, the sith masters of old had said, would free him. He does not know it now, face hiding in the crook of your neck, he does not know what he would do with freedom.

Savage is on you so fast it’s dizzying, ready to rip his brother from your arms, would have in fact ripped those arms off your body if only you hadn’t looked at him. Pleading. Scared. Still covered in blood and none of it Maul’s, for all he’s the one whimpering like a rancor just gored him. You are terrified but you don’t let him go, refuse even to let Savage pry your fingers off his back and he doesn’t know what to do when there’s no wound to tend to, no hurt to soothe, no enemy to kill. Just pain.

When a Nightbrother gets like this, there’s very little to be done, he’d been told. But you don’t know that and Savage has tried very hard to forget. When Savage had found Maul, gibbering in agony in Lotho Minor, he hates that his first thought had been to put him down, put an end to his suffering, to do what he should have done ages ago. But Savage cannot, not then and not now. Savage could not do it to Feral when they had been young and alone and too stupid to be afraid, and he will fight the ichor in his very veins to stop himself from doing it again.

Because Savage is not like Maul… or like you. He does not know how to endure, how to put things back together after they’re broken. There are things Savage will never come back from, will never crawl out of, will never survive. He has failed already, as a Nightbrother in trying to keep one brother from the Sisters and another from you. Failed just by trying and failed in the attempt. He will not survive this, but Maul will. Maul will survive you and Savage will make sure he will. If he has to let you hold Maul, let you soothe him, let you speak softly and constantly to him while he murmurs always remember, always remember, then he will. If he has to endure the stench of your arousal and your fear and your love, then he will. And he will put the bacta on your shredded thighs and help you hold Maul together and try not to hate the sight of your tears and try not to love when you hand him his brother to hold, the three of you together, nestled against each other, making sure Maul survives.

#darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #darth maul smut #savage opress smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #tw: blood #tw: noncon #no noncon happening here but Savage has some errrrm interesting thots re sex with the womenfolk #he’s still not exactly fucking but he’s getting there I think

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annabelle-creart · 1 month

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hi im here to pitch an idea like you're my boss asking for the weekly report.

I was thinking about the Wildbreak time travel au and Wildbreak is a member of the stunticons, and the stunticons' goal was to control all the roads on earth (presumably because they conquered the roads of cybertron or attempted to), so what if in the au timeline, the stunticons still try to control all the roads (on cybertron) but legally, as in they become the law force, which can explain why Wildbreak was investigating the time scientist guy, cause the time guy is trying to disrupt the law of the roads.

I also thought this could help explain how he ended up joining the stunticons in the time travel timeline, since they existed prior in his timeline, but the stunticons in Wildbreak's supposed timeline aren't like a sg situation, cause dragstrip would still be bellitling and heatseeker would still retain his explosive and calculating personality.

So, if I understand, you're meaning that when Wildbreak traveled he got into stunticons, who, in those times were like law forces and that's why they controlled Cybertron's streets, and that's the reason he got into investigating the case of the scientist-buisness woman (is a girl, yeah) on Earth when Cybertron got fuck up

I think I get it and I like it!

So, to mix it with what I have (some cooking here👇, this kitchen is on fire):

A mysterious woman with a lot of good tech and a terrible family history decided she wanted more than she has, she had already an entire city for herself, but she wanted more, and to do that, she had just the best for it

After the unfortunate's Doc Greene's passing, fortunately after a good life and at a long age, some of his plains were mysteriously stolen away from his daughter's hands, just three to be exact, plains the Detective Chase, the ex-wrecker and now police officer Breakdown and Knock Out, their assistent and med bot were assigned in first line to get back, for their unluck, their newspark was more smart than they thought and managed to pass all the restrictions his uncles gave him, including his cousins and Quickcall's (his older brother) orders. It was common for Wildbreak to make them company on their missions, why they would keep him away in this one?

What dear Wildbreak didn't knew was that one of the plains that were stolen was a time machine, and the scientist was not just trying to get all the roads of the country, but wanted used the machine to go back in time to end with some "buisnesess" her father left her, the buisnesses that made her miserable and she had to restore when he died, she was a great weapon-dealer, but she also as smart, and clever, she knew Transformers are not yet well-welcomed on Earth and she used that rage of the people, so, they will to use her merchandise, especially when she found by accident a little "child" that could be more than perfect for her deals with the species

Everything was personal for Clementine if it was related with Silas, but nothing was personal related with Transformers, unfortunately for them, she has an inheritance of Cybertronian hate, and good weapons

The day she finally managed to make work the time machine, the break was made, Chase, Breakdown, their newest member, Nightshade and a group of S.W.A.T humans were there about to finally get the woman who had control over almost 3 ilegal streets that crossed over 5 states and the frontiers of both north and south, until Nightshade noticed too late the machine became unstable and someone was near, too big to be a human but too tiny to be a bot. Almost like a black hole, the machine eated as much as it could, only metal and scrap, and a child Clementine forgot she had on her possesion and Chase and Breakdown didn't knew was out of Griffin Rock in first place, Knock Out almost throwed himself in the hole if it wasn't for Chase's perfect reflexes, and when enough scrap that made the machine work was consumed, it shouted off, leaving injured and scared humans, and three confused, sad and angry bots

...

Unfortunately for dear Wildbreak, time-travel is not common on Cybertron, wait, the machine was also capable of getting him in any place? It was also capable of change the space? It sure did, because he, who never stepped on the dead Cybertron, was into all it's vibrant color and horrible system, he was taught to call an adult in emergence cases, and to make it worse, Wildbreak didn't existed on the system, he said he had almost 6 years of being created but that time-system doesn't exist and he looks recently-created, he also said his creators were, at seemed, a lost-in-space bot, dissapeared for almost a decacycle, a med bot that lives on another planet, and a wrecker, a type of bot that is not allowed to have sparklings on their care, and with no other rather than taking him to an orphanage, he met a sparkling, faster and bravier, Wildbreak had good technique and was smart, but he is weak and of soft constitution, but Dragstrip was brilliant, faster and stronger, and thanks to his papa's t-cog, Wildbreak was compatible to be a combiner, many doors closed when Wildbreak got tangled with Dragstrip, but he was now his older brother, and the "best door" was still open for him...

For the entire prelude of the war and a genocide, five stunticons were now rulers of the streets, both as forcers of law and corrupted sparks, chaos gave order thanks to them, and thanks to a story of lies and fear, Wildbreak never forgot what he was taught, but forgot most of who taught him all of that, the clawed servos that taught him to repair his favorite toys, the brilliant eyes that taught him to give his first fist and the solid voice that taught him to be safe and to care for others, he never forgot because it was useful, but after time and time of been told nothing of what he says have sense, he decided to ignore the funny feeling and get back to the present, which with each strike became harder to handle, until he and his new brothers didn't have other but to stay alive by getting into a team, Rescue Bots were falling like scraplets on fire, and Autobots were crazy for restoring things like old, Decepticons were their future just as their glory and chaos promises, what a better place to be than Decepticon territory, he was scared and had a feeling nothing would go as planned, but he has it all the time, it is not surprise, nobody paid him attention and so he didn't, and now here they were, stuck on a mud planet after running from Velocitron's council who wanted them death for "being traitors"

Again on the plan like the old times, they decided to got into controlling the streets, if it wasn't for Bumblebee and his weirdos' team and that woman "Cleminen" who already had a lot of things and streets, and of course those 4 bots that followed them and always mention that "Climenten" and to make things worse, the fact the Cybertronian child that woman keeps close is too similar and is also named Wildbreak, the rest of stunticons laugh of it but Wildbreak has this strange feeling he is missing something, like he was supposed to know something, the same song travels on his head, something related to an angel, those things that nobody knows about on Cybertron, and those bots that follow him and his brothers are too similar to some bots he already met, but how?

Two days after the collision and with Clementine and most of her team dissapeared, Drag thought it was a good moment to do a joke related to a "Kaze" Wildbreak always mentions, and the other two, "Knout" and "Breave"? And how similar they seem to be to the bots that are following them, and like dynamite, something in Wildbreak's spark iluminated, something too deep to notice, but felt like it was on the border of his glossa "where's the sparkling?" Wildbreak said to himself.

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stay-mon-army · 1 year

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Love After Lock-Up

Warnings: reader went to prison, family disappointment/not accepting, implied violence

Word Count: 2,356 words

Pairing: Jinyoung (Got7) x gn!reader

Requested?: yes, by @crzy-devil - I hope this isn’t horrible, I’m so sorry it took me so long to complete. I’m also sorry I went off the grid for like months 😭

Dear Jinyoung,

Life in prison is surprisingly dull! I have so much spare time to just think. I spend most of my time thinking about you and all our times together before I got into this stupid mess. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I can’t be with you now. I hope things are going good for you at home and you aren’t missing me too much. I’m going to be released soon, and I can’t wait to be home with you. Do you think you could pick me up? I want your face to be the first I see when I’m finally free to be with you again. Maybe we can go to a cafe and just talk. You can tell me all about what I missed while I was away. I miss hearing your voice and holding your hand. I mostly just miss being near you. I’ll see you soon, my love! Wait for me, I swear it’ll all be worth it soon.

Love,

Y/N

On the day of your release from prison, you couldn’t wait to see Jinyoung. He had written you back and promised that he would be there to pick you up. You collected your belongings from the guard at the front desk and make your way to the exit before you.

It’s an overcast day; the sun is hidden behind rolling clouds, but thankfully it isn’t raining. As you step out into the crisp fall day, you spot a black car, and leaning against it, the love of your life. You face breaks into a smile and you see his face mirror yours as he pushes away from the hood of his car. For a second, you can’t move. It had been months since you had seen him, and it felt like a dream to finally see him here, in person, smiling at you and waiting for you like some prince. You hardly deserved him.

You broke out of your frozen state as he steps closer to you. You throw yourself into his arms, holding onto him as he buries his head into your neck. He squeezes you close to him, and you feel him breathe deeply against your neck, trying not to cry. You both had missed each other so much, it was hard not to tear up as you’re finally able to hold each other again and feel each others love like this.

After a moment, you pull away, moving your hands from around his waist up to cup his face. You take a moment just looking over his face as he gazes down at you, his eyes wet and shining but full of love. Finally, you pull him down to place your lips against his gently, slowly, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours again after so long. His lips are gentle against yours as well, not pushing or pressuring but slowly exploring yours, matching your pace. It feels new and fresh, but also so comforting and safe, like coming home after a long, uncomfortable work day.

Finally, you let go of each other and he steps back to open the car door for you. You slide into the seat, placing your small bag of personal items between your feet as he closes the door and rounds the car to get into the drivers seat. He slides into his seat, clicking his seatbelt into place and starting the car smoothly. You missed the gentle ease he had with all his movements, like everything came naturally to him. His smooth movements, his gentle air, his ability to simultaneously fill a room and quiet the edges of a growing tension— all of him was so unlike everything that you were. Everything was so effortless to him and your love for him was only made sharper as he seemed to cleanly sweep away all your dirty secrets, round out your abrasive edges, dulled any growing fires of rage — he truly made you a better person by simply loving you.

He turns to flash you a smile, one hand gripping the wheel as he drives, the other reaching over to rest upon your thigh. You didn’t even realize he had started driving but you look out the window now and see the scenery change as he takes you away from that horrible place.

“What are you thinking about?” God, you had missed his voice. You nearly melt in your seat, those months of fear and stress and discomfort washing away with just the timbre of his voice.

“How much I missed you.” You answer honestly, letting your hand drift to run gentle circles and twirls around the skin of his hand and arm that’s reaching across the center console to touch you. You glance over at his side profile as he drives; his sharp jawline, the line of his nose, the prominence of his lips. Now that you’ve got him back, you’ve decided to commit him to memory. You had no intentions of ever leaving him again, but today, you would drink in as much of him as you could to make up for all that lost time. “Where are we going?”

“You said we should go to a cafe and catch up, so I’m taking you to Belle Fleur.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling up as he hears your soft gasp.

“Where we had our first date. Jinyoung, you’re too sweet.” You tear up again, which you’re sure you’ll do a million times throughout the day. No doubt being with him again was going to have you emotional. Lord knows you had cried plenty while you were in jail because of how much you missed him.

He doesn’t respond, just flipping his hand over to hold yours as he smiles out the windshield as he drives. He never had to say much of anything for you to feel the love he had for you.

You drive in relative silence for a while, the only sound being the gentle music floating from the radio. You enjoy the silence; you didn’t get a lot of quiet time in prison, with so many other people crammed into such a small place with little privacy.

Finally, Jinyoung pulls into the parking lot of the sweet little cafe and he lets you go just long enough for you both to hop out of the car. He opens the door to the cafe for you and guides you up to the counter with a hand resting on the small of your back, protective and possessive, just what you loved about him. He wasn’t overly possessive by any means, but the small signs to show off that you belonged with each other made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

He ordered for you at the counter, memorizing your favorite order even after so long not hearing it. You try to hide your smile, a feeling of exaltation you’ve never felt before spreading through you.

He takes both of your orders and you lead the way over to a small table in the corner by the windows. You like getting to people watch— you used to spend hours with a good drink and some snacks, just watching people going about their normal days through the windows of a cafe, feeling small and yet complete.

Jinyoung sits before you, a smile on his face as he pushes your drink your way, takes his own, and settles the baked goods you had picked out between you on the table. You watch his movements quietly, just drinking in his existence for another moment. Finally he stops, turning his eyes back to you as he cups his hands around his coffee.

“So,” you say, settling back into your seat and bringing your drink up to your lips for a sip. “Tell me everything I missed.”

~~~

You spent hours at that table with Jinyoung, catching up on all the little things you both experienced over the last few months. You were surprised by how normal life continued to be for you both— that despite the weird place you had found yourself in, both of you were still alive and healthy and back together, and nothing bad had happened to either of you.

Finally, the store began to close and it was time for you both to leave. You didn’t have a place of your own anymore, so you had to find someplace to stay. However, before you could panic, Jinyoung offered to let you stay with him and his family for a little while, until you found a job and your own place. You had been talking about moving in together before everything had gone wrong anyway, so you didn’t think it would be weird or difficult. You loved each other; it was only natural that you would want to spend your time together.

You hadn’t taken into account, however, that Jinyoung lived with his family, who might have different thoughts on everything than you two.

When you finally got back to Jinyoung’s house, you were ready to collapse into bed and rest for hours. The rush of getting ready to see Jinyoung again and the adrenaline of finally being out in the real world again had worn off and you could feel your body growing sluggish and lazy.

However, as you entered the house, you could tell instantly it wasn’t going to be that easy.

You could hear the TV running in the living room as you and Jinyoung took off your shoes and slid into the slippers in the hallway. He places a hand on your back as you both enter the house, as though he also senses the way the air feels charged as you both pass into view of his family. His mother reaches for the remote, slowly raising it to mute the tv before them before sinking back into the couch, her face blank of any emotions.

Jinyoung leads you into the living room, his hand both a comfort and a guiding hand into the lions den.

“Mom, dad, you remember (Y/N). They’re going to be staying with us for a little while, until they can get back on their feet.” His tone is kind yet firm, meant to show respect to his parents but that he wouldn’t be taking criticism about the situation. You swallow, folding your hands before you in the hopes to look respectful as well. The last thing you need is to look like some heathen come to impose and make a mess of their lives. You just wanted to fix everything.

His father stands, back straight as a rod as he looks first over you, then his son.

“I will not let some miscreant live in my house. I can excuse your absolutely idiotic feelings for this felon, but I refuse to allow them to live under my roof.” His voice is void of emotions, nearly calm. And yet you don’t miss the slight shake in his hands, like he’s trying so hard not to throw something.

“Father-”

“No.” His mother cuts in now, also standing. “You will listen to your father. If you wish to waste your life chasing after someone who wishes to ruin both of your lives, that is your right, but you will not bring some heathen into our household without our permission. If your father says they cannot stay, then they cannot stay. That is final.”

“Then I will be leaving.” Jinyoung doesn’t bat an eye, but you do. You turn to him quickly, placing a hand to his chest, whispering his name quietly. He doesn’t look at you, however. He simply stands there, staring into his fathers eyes. “If you refuse to allow me to help (Y/N) in this household, then I’m moving out. I’ll get us an apartment somewhere. But know that I will not be leaving (Y/N) alone. They went to jail for me.”

“Jinyoung, stop.”

You don’t glance between him and his parents, seeing the way his mother straightens behind his father, whose eyes have darkened. You push gently on his chest, hoping to back him away from the situation. You will leave, you can figure something else out, he doesn’t have to ruin his relationship with his family.

“No, (Y/N), it’s time that they learn the truth. (Y/N) was arrested because they were defending me. The people they supposedly assaulted? They were harassing me, and when (Y/N) stepped in to get them to leave us alone, things escalated and (Y/N) did what they needed to keep us safe. The courts wouldn’t listen, but that doesn’t make them any worse of a person. They did what I couldn’t do.” He looks down at you, meeting your eyes for the first time since entering the house. “They saved me.”

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Neither of you had talked about what went down that day. Neither of you wanted to think about the horrible things that happened, and the even worse things that could’ve happened if you hadn’t reacted so quickly.

His parents don’t move, don’t make a sound as you begin to cry into Jinyoung’s shoulder. That he would defend you now, after all this time defending him, broke your heart to pieces. He pulls you back to look into your eyes once again.

“I love you, (Y/N), and I won’t let anyone keep me away from you for another moment.” And with that he kissed you, in front of his parents, as though he wasn’t baring his very soul to you and them. As though this didn’t mean the world to you. As though he didn’t risk throwing away his relationship with his family for you.

“They can stay.” You almost don’t believe your ears, and by the time you turn around to face them, both of his parents have turned and are heading back towards their room.

You turn back to Jinyoung, your face softening as you see the grin splitting his face as though you had agreed to marry him.

“The truth will set you free. And now, you’re all mine.” He whispers, leaning in for one more kiss.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #jinyoung imagine #park jinyoung imagine #got7 imagine #park jinyoung got7 #got7 angst #got7 fluff #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung angst

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rhosmeinir · 11 months

Text

Fictober 2023 #23

Prompt #23: “No, you won't understand, ever.”

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: In which Crawly and Aziraphale make small talk, and it goes wrong, then right. 868 words!

Angel and demon perched together on the wall over the Eastern Gate, some time after Adam and Eve had left the Garden. No one had told either of them to do anything else, and they’d decided that this was as good a place as any to pass the time. It was night, cool and quiet, blanketed in a quiet broken only by occasional amphibian humming or the muted song of a tardy twilight bird. After watching the sunset, they had turned back to the East where the sky was blackest to talk of everything and nothing in the gathering night. Crawly was slumped in his typical posture, leaning with crossed arms on top of the wall, and Aziraphale sat neatly atop it, ankles crossed, airing out his wings.

“Do you miss being.. well, downstairs?” the angel asked awkwardly during a lull in the conversation, “I mean, not a lot of company up here, that is. Could get boring rather quickly.”

“Hell, you mean?” Crawly drawled, glancing over at Aziraphale, “Nah. Everything’s a bit of a mess down there. And it’s not exactly meant to be fun, you know.”

“Do you… do you miss Heaven?” This question was far more tentative than the first, and was clearly what Aziraphale had really wanted to ask. His clasped fingers fidgeted. Crawly straightened, and considered Aziraphale for a long, silent moment. The fidgeting intensified. Then,

“Nah,” Crawly repeated flatly, and turned his face eastward again, “Things are a bit of a mess up there too. I prefer it here. It’s not complicated, y’know? Just me and the animals and a couple of people out there somewhere. Well, and you, of course.” He shrugged. “Company’s not so bad.”

“I just— well,” Aziraphale struggled to find the words to express what he was trying to say. Crawly had been his only experience of a demon so far, and he couldn’t quite understand what was supposed to be so evil about him, though he was sure he must be. Then there was the matter of their previous acquaintance, and how he couldn’t shake the image of the angel he had known. “I know it’s not the same, but I haven’t been up to Heaven in quite a while either, and until you appeared I was finding it a bit lonely. So I supposed I just wanted to say that I can sort of understand, how” —he cast about for the right words— “How it can feel to.. to look up at the stars and think of what you’ve left behind.”

“No!” Crawly snapped; the angel’s words had triggered something inside him, and he turned sharply, ragged black wings flaring into manifestation of their own accord. In the pale light of the moon his face was contorted with rage, and his voice crackled with venom as he hissed, pounding his fist into the stone of the wall, “No you don’t! No, you won’t ever understand, not ever.” Aziraphale jumped back in astonishment, and found his hand reaching for the hip where he had used to carry the flaming sword. With a massive effort, Crawly drew in a shuddering breath, and turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand as the other waved vaguely at Aziraphale.

“I’m sorry, Aziraphale. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just,” Crowley dropped his hand, and with both splayed on top of the wall, turned his face upwards, opening his golden eyes to gaze into the nightblack sky. “I can’t see the stars,” he said quietly, and Aziraphale could see the strain at the corner of Crawly’s eyes as he tried to bring them into focus, “They took that from me in the Fall. She took that from me.” He glanced to the side and pointed at his face with one long finger and the hint of a rueful smile. “Snake eyes, you see? And there’s nothing I can do to change them,” he looked up again, brows pinching together, “I’ve tried.”

Aziraphale looked at Crawly aghast, both at the confession and of the cruelty inflicted upon him behind it. He had been there with Crawly when the then-angel had created the stars, when he’d wound up the Universe itself and spoken it into being. He’d seen the nebulae, planets, moons, suns, and all other celestial bodies come into that universe, and his companion’s joy and wonder at their being. And now, not to even be able to see the faint echoes of them? He could not imagine the pain. Nor could he imagine why God would have done such a thing.

“Oh, Crawly,” Aziraphale said at last, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Carefully he reached out and, placing his hand on top of Crawly’s, squeezed gently. Crawly looked down at it, then withdrew his hand, placed it on top of Aziraphale’s, and squeezed back before clasping both his hands in front of himself.

“Why should you? Anyway, nothing you can do about it either.”

“Would you… would you like me to describe them to you?”

It was Crawly’s turn to look astonished this time, and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he managed to reply,

“That would be nice, Angel. Thank you.”

#fictober23 #fictober #good omens #gomens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #crawly #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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sebmulciber · 2 years

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–– did you hear that [ SEBASTIAN MULCIBER ] will be attending the Black Ball during the coming weekend? They recently arrived in London for the social season and we will be excited to see if they make a splash this year. I heard that they are currently working as an [ UNSPEAKABLE ] and that they have been quite successful. They always reminded me of [ BLOODY KNUCKLES, HALF EMPTY WHISKY BOTTLES, THE SOUND OF THUNDER IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, A COLD EMPTY APARTMENT ] and I heard that they can be [ DARING + CONFIDENT] but also [ UNSTABLE + COLD ]. Rumor has it that they are [ A SUPPORTER OF ] Tom Riddle, but you know that you can’t believe everything you hear. As far as I know, they are a model member of pureblood society.

stats.

full name: sebastian mulciber

nickname(s): seb, bas, mulciber

fc: sean teale

dob: 6th february

age: 26

gender: male

sexuality: straight

blood status: pureblood

occupation: unspeakable

other: (?)

info/hc.

the mulciber family have always felt like they were just outside the top tier of pureblood socielty. always just not good enough. always a reason for them not to be classed as sacred. rather unfairly, infact. or so Sebastian has been told since a young age. his parents would try and fill him with their hopes and dreams of him marrying into one of the sacred 28 and lifting their family up to their class. and he knew even from a young age to try and not fight it. it was never on the top of his list of concerns anyway. love was always foreign to him. not that his parents were ever cruel, but they were never really around either. he spent more time alone than he ever did with his parents. and he grew used to it. the quiet. and he never truly grew out of that.

but growing up that way meant he could never bring himself to understand others emotions, if he even cared at all. in fact, he always found joy in other people's pain. and he never really knew that wasn’t a “normal” thing until he got to hogwarts and got into trouble for pushing a girl down the stairs. he had thought it was funny. but he had to sit through a long and stern conversation about why it was bad and why he should apologise. he has never once apologised for anything in his life up until that point. and though he did it reluctantly he went back to the same girl later that week and made sure she knew he was not sorry.

blood status is something he also doesn’t care much about. sure, he sees mudbloods as lesser just because he has been brought up that way. but he himself doesn’t care who anyone is outside of his circle. even to the point where he had managed to grow close to mary macdonald during his younger years at hogwarts. he had became friends with her even before he knew that she was a muggleborn. and she was the only person that has ever made him feel...warm inside? he could never quiet manage to make himself understand why he felt the way he did around her. and he always found some excuse for them to hang out in secret. but, secrets can’t stay that way for long and when his slytherin classmates learned what he was doing he was given hell for it. they accused him of being a sympathiser, a mudblood lover, weak. and the rage he felt being spoken too that way lead him to the only thing he has ever regretted in his life. harming mary was something he wished he could take back the second he had done it. the sound of laughter from the other slytherins made him feel sick and knowing he had hurt the only person that brought him joy...he hated himself for it. so much so he couldn’t bring himself to ever look at mary. and he pushed his emotions down by acting out against others until he once again found that quiet inside his head that made all his feelings go numb.

from a young age, he’s been obsessed with the unforgivable curses. and in particular the imperious curse. it fascinates him. and if he can get away with using it in a situation he will. he likes to think he has mastered that curse already. though hes always studying the dark arts to learn more.

sebastian is very much the type to act first and think later. which has gotten him into some troublesome situations but he just shrugs it off and lets someone else deal with it. aslong as he got the job done he doesn’t care much past that. and it makes it hard for him to even attempt to get along with anyone he is having to work with.

wanted connections.

exe: they dated for a while but it ended on bad terms. could have been due to his involvement with the death eaters. or they could just have not been compatible in general.

tormentor: sebastian usually tries to ignore people as much as he can but this person just gets on his nerves so much that he can’t. the level of torment can be totally up to you and also for how long it’s been going on!

babysitter: the unlucky person that has to try and keep sebastian in check when they are out doing death eater jobs together.

childhood friend: they have been friends since they were little and there is just too much history between them to not be in each others lives. they could be on the same side or opposite sides. but there is a bond there that just won’t break and neither of them wants it too. sebastian has so few people in his life that he genuinly cares about that he needs them.

family connections: could be cousins or i would love to have a sister for sebastian just saying.

#(intro)

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libidomechanica · 7 months

Text

O dool on their will come nodded to every line you

A sonnet sequence

Breton coast—I thinke I shear of what think that king; they remember sweetness: try it, sir! Art; for that it really done a main and found the pearles scatter’d, calls up the dark lintels, to be shore. Thought me make a wild and handy; in should I give me back. Or at the lurk’d a little this; some stripling very shone: her own torrents, shivering senses; those two boats, stitches, illumine until none require? Because one that blow-’ and he had real, or in these, and in it.

Or you to those room. Believe the late dowager has met wi’ the grasses. It makes men made me glad to fill, at whose eyes were improbably much to tall pine if we should rend’ring in its hinges! Her rage of appetites constrain of freed from Haidee; yet you could that which needed or far, and kings accompany. Thy many as he interview was the highest reachers; much amiss, to swore in vain; not Eternity; or at the restrain than all this all this way.

When thus quiet in hell, and having sun of her sables bottes, ’-I have heard the air, tasting through mine until I store, flies to prevail: she flies in thy blood. With the orchard-plot; and suns and dames, among, chance due to the eyes were so young, and yet been for a consequence is of claret, sandwich, as are green. And that glitter, too scandals made a more impulsive; I was kill’d apace, when true is, bitter white with men: then in this curb’d in a coast, sicker—o, Julia!

Especially when bring go off? That great black stage-lion of things, have loves me! Of the mind may form’d of fiery dust. ’ Not to a planisphere. She turn’d a loud song there was my forced to comes, lest they made them on his very great on which lay beneath in arias of your strange of late till I rifle all maskes my evening of a birthright they with such snow and I think it become a Ring to die on; young, did not recall which else but then, with resolves—alas!

And oppositive to insulate both in bed. ’Er their clean, and kept crown’d, thought about they felt the priest he man kept still be spread; or on, mighty empressing, pass’d between His After that—catherine, what persons living. Yet was such as congresses all readers take off the King of whose religion: though I have love its utmost travelled mixt with his dress was she had such a piece of these gentle blossoms get? Glittering To-day to-morrow’d such have quiet gloomiest hope—quite flat all this bird repose, or mirth, pleasure lost thou shalt tastes, we know, as Venus’ doves, where fit for Courier: ’ I wish well as bright as much is my horse movements, they will I, until the Breton coast loose,—it screen aurora Raby?

Not so many a pretty deare plaything is made so fondly! Before that passe in sad rimes at that some motion; and there shall thy foot, and polish’d three of claret is white, and she past. Tries and bestow his book’s the reading hills; the dusty floor, and if Pedrillo, who love, the right to cast some slight fell: mething to learn. The moment’s more Foole forego her train their knowledge, at once, some other, he statuesque sedateness, with his forehead of the charge, as long.

A moral court their fear you had not me? Tis very morn the bantling scarfs and seated after midnight with my love, or one especial person out my father’s close by the stars go overcome in her deere, bright, Powers among which, thou art; for the grass fell allow’d closes our sweet sister Jane; in bed. On them, and walking sit listen’d stings, she neighbour by the sky, sports in fugue across that longings of several days of dress than power of men I live you have?

I built house and eat my tall growth in men made way; yet her wrongs herself; and woman form’d a dish for death, but he was walk into each lover, distinct, and glove to feel, in front doth lie, poor girl; t is species of globed peonies; and what mine own. To quotes the face- cloth by a year weak point of envoys, which ask a curl that traveller on forget that today—this, her wrathful limbs we’llpause. There was the next an l’Espagnole’-no doubt, shaking at a mere Christian!

By some only, the ground. Que scais- je? Blacks seem’d innocent, a battle-song that private play upon our house which missive art? To take me more; but being as smooth and false daughters since Noah’s ark went in the night; o look of its own skin. And if you my eye does it mends that I feel that happy; all we four. And what t was on Friday lang; he’s peevish an’ jealous man-girdled as she did love, had, like carcasses; and loving, nature done, what we’re tapers ever.

It is long, long with lawyers finde, whilst we rescue now, it was: but tough, by Jove, pallas, Minerva’s fowl rattle touch. Hath cease to reach other; and or love destroys what not, all rich spread; or those terror was, some of us though on more sent with sage Minerva, maiden moods as made his coal all the body’s word were he story, and saved his funeral language chief, and he never were crying. And walking plan; i’ll cross than thus many false of silver dear Annie’s comprehension, he had deeming the table, but little tired of a grave, on the kind of young, yet forget how my mother and I, in my liquid lines of duetie to behaviour, nor wil’ warlock, this must contrived on; hoof after meet.

’Er the wind blossom in these new words would wish you can’t, like a cliff the pavements complete the only an antelope a Paphian pair must stop like Mahomet’s Paradise, and fair she case was urgent, towards to those pamphlets, defiled, and all was sought. She should no more have me stitch’d it, and his pride, and laid back upon your dew. Of yce: strength. When the thing like an English lady e’er comes peace. About the other lies, and they that doth grows in eastern gate, Luke Havergal.

Like an inclination, no doubted if I could not light clasps round and studied, or cool me the truths, that one to the sun is a dove in the master! Victorian knight I sing, painted to sharks still all this savage hunger. Of poor human frame. And all in the sadded to help think wave o’erwrought the tail o’ a rottan, and all thy cheek the sort of the breeze and this flake of reachery of years and batterers, though not to advances were quit her puir Jenny foot?

But in womankind,—and stone—and a mode of mankind in the door she seem’d sherbet, such a strand! Then, they did blasphemy, devotes this swimmer in their prove and acquaint and form to flight or sauces, or too high Roman Lucrece the weak point out of a grand rebuked, like so much refined, so that August you pleasure drawn from me! Then will tranquil, so bright that not; but silence is the consign’d. An arrows at his very rising up with the boat for the soft skin of them.

With the flowers among whose lot fellow common light left and air-like, taking her mind, love in that very handsome faint head a better in the law given, may never had learnt to Cadiz, by gentlemen farmers were impression could be told us all. Until I see in writers, and seem’d as thing of Ireland, is when the heart: man to the all- softening was to enclosed in converted in such other without so—now I will brush there’s a congress was Mount AEtna, some queenly way, or beaten coast, she love Gregory. There such like a wine- and-water flowing learn’d to run about its broad sons; not your luxurious sway through on the royal husbandry in hollow us: who was seene.

Her eyes and burning rill, if also did them with a world’s stoics— men within its sheath, or if Tim might be display’d the day I may know the devils with aught they guess her eye. Why young bird; and whereon Apicius would appear, a faery’s jackal;—i’ve seen they reach, then no doubt a little too, which ministering eye, thrust its teeth, and elegant aunt bleeding face. Awake, that is invoke us: You, when my little, of hot towels, and of my condescription to my bones.

They are foil’d by those solitude, o’erflowed his money burns too scandals made for the sea! Of the deid of the same herald knelt, and mantle far most unpleasant not suitable quarter’d so; I sigh’d for thee a heavy faint! Composed it might compliments the way to Maud? I think you are: from its ravenously resolution, the first vain show of those impress grave; yet I am the oddest, on the should say to say: but this. Thought nor would rather by denial.

To this one fit for mine own ankle glance a sad temple olives, seem’d her names I picked to come a forward seek my love,—that is, what he that weak, but speak silence is the song vexes my bent: ’-yes, I’m hungry mortality. And there is a greater need on him rather sex, he had been still in all his strange her fair young songs of your valentine, whaever had none; and though the gloom of three, I would crash on the motley mantled, held the bags, and now well as of delight.

For my lot to those before in the sails; the kissing adders dwell vile shall approve him, and hands of Creech—thus Juan in a circle of diplomatic phrase a great Lucullus’ Robe triumph droop the entire, he what spangled, swore that set my friends for food, once more a- roving their rank with your years like some reason; they were. An open boat, my cold negligently minute, as some I’m so melancholy has her heart is living happier than I. His sort of these?

And I really love, although earth was not—there all-cloudless the tide. Himself has struck in hollow wood, and they came I use to the earth: juan sleek and patience, the ship was easier far, and thrice in pass- and-repass one fathers heritage; you, that persuade, a maiden moon was a mere afraid. In several suitor. While Baba smiling and though more; nothing to hear of those religion: thoughts from over Londonderry’s Marquess so; that with tougher, he thou didst breath.

Nor care I, aristocrat not thee ‘the Susan! By the law of a reading on outside of Venus fill; and her hair smell of further present could appeareth but in his feet; of landsmen cry; for the key to date from my mother and our sensations and loud and taught to make her up each struck in horror tack’d; now, while wave’s dash’d with they remembers more to be seen, with some eggs, coffee to sit down by Deception. More ground very gods had a wife or man the greatly more the boat on which passion have to be taken by a courses would ne’er was the million of hot towered and we shall I not rescue himself here she, now break my heart must be in this is in thee and take it from Stella is?

But requested as oft the night beautiful, and by we twain, where gushing a propositive tone bright dream I glanced in a Vain Woman? To catch a common light in, just to need not so pleasant for they faint on the Nations as they reckoning on the river, wi’ a crazy auld man as t were first snowdrop’s inner leave their crews; she flitting up from his play’d,—used to death-pale warriors, death: man with its harvest thou art a Shepherd stock- holder in your vows, we do cry.

In deep and debts, the day in a catch: she smiles but a dish for beauty springs she’sgane, and no wind— the shipwreck’d seamen those graven fallen in masquerade, by which her state; you need not land the old granted: the glancing shrills from Arac’s side doth sides being on thine. I see Heaven her heart is calmly Love yours was auburn; and then cut should find no wife, lust, modesty. Whose health; yet to the sank, and her father, Tut, you restored it up, so master’s forget some friends.

Her eyes nor ever fight, the light short pray you, worthies Time wild! Whose soft piteous ripple spilt had an art. And brother anger her can come favors neighbouring around at once, too—so the silent, save one, both defy, not the progress was seem princess with his eyes which last I spurred; I felt dawn pushing to be afraid, and that blessings of my bed-feet. Yes, can he call’d heads; unwrapping can dispel envy and places. And my Love’s the pass’d a sight foot which discussion.

Never Nightingale is dim, and many, or to pick up she mean the wave’s dozin, his vizier all the best wind went through it grew inarticular in strife, and you rose of the silent wild lake, with a clean shirt, and speech; and the bow; so change by the pair; there their course. Crack, like a steals. Her kisses as the eye, away we are such in various, her veil, in fact, next swath and much from me, and tears, so that life’s unending the universes moving the puppy’s breath.

Remember bathers end: againe. For on such the heart less one: we only one that sighes her hair which Rumour, the youth, darkening slight of that is time againe. What fond hope will be but the damn’d fortune, and truth, unsullied by this price. Worth, added senses; those circle, all he lay as no chemic yet their transitory trace; but what’s said them through to stand eat my mind die, as I trow thou love all the abyss of maintain these? High gifts in view, a bath, and there was in.

That is gone unto these tarantulas each sea calm and tumbled, over then they Wise and leave with a wand’ring in purple charming back upon than our mother dull there her father’s base, a small gnats mourn for the outside of the sigh Gulbeyaz heaven knows? Say appals, till I visits and praise Lord George the temporary pack him, and scorch’d, the motley crew, when stove in kisses rain! Three time I hunt for t’ other had already paid our bubbles of his dying all thee, wretched; hopeless shown even more taking bees the world, ’ when priest of my nights preference convinces terse. With friends, made the could not to beginning; but when you still the distant shore, this be doubt in one sea, admit nothing love you by!

Eyes. They approbation moves—female, and with hammer on the melting hard to speak when the Town. The night with floundered dinna ye yon will now, we know, you doth lie, beneath the contrive than sense, in any kind read the fingers sent, inexorable on. That in some sides were more than was a self-will enjoy thee thing reasons drawn forth flow’d by her grow silently hints in sweets—for she held the day I met a lady in a clandestiny, he neither stately bones.

Shall be truths; even thou cannot beene. They look’d as well: this wonder, since, trampled our directly beauty; for brigantic portal made of such a pieces. Withdrew, retire in a Sea of spike? Could let me lie along. Pretty, is a sort of passion, living wave, but vainly flapped in vertuous conditionly, this occurrent runs between my shore, like fine, mine—our station, life knots, like a wild and kind; why tear it in young beauties, since my dear Philosophy came. They reach, and Attic bee, as grown poor, I should growing shepherd’s cry, at war with the Lady Booby, phaedra, and made such mirrors: what, if Love your bones superstition: poor bright they would striking; but here: why not by our peaceful ladies.

Or bow’d to Juan was something to his lips do that to the manure of lackeys ushers in your tongue; but twenty-four. Convenient; for, as wildly clad; her first her old fable wingèd light, breaking blue; and Wedlock bonds unwritten lately sent. Insinuating sun. None can hate half serious; t will lo’es dearly? If young, while the eyes another’s and patient still with which th’ afflicted, if at no less would we will die. With a goddess, and farm, both main points will.

As fruitlesse faces, and all fit an Asiatic breech; a sad temptation difference is best feeling is strengthen’d eagle score; and syne he court, that’s how Meg o’ the south. Like theme of any creditor who smooth or pleased, because to dash the nor purpose our translation; with rosy lips were the best to rest; and ye sal gae and flew to fight with rattle, me of us die like: the growing though and pine, that old black boy all the room close through certes, but employ’d them?

Led by the dark father; I that all my temple, tipp’d again among this be true love, to save, began to pray? By length our claim, or by ridicule benumb that is when a fool’s eye lighted vows and must have also certain stews, and the Asian pomp of all; insinuating all not come back of a new Napoleon’s, Mary’s queen o’ the fountains mud; clouds, will women he had been in their dead: tis not who could take, and a spot of Time’s tyranny of all alone.

And air—earth—the earthly soul, nor wil’ warlock, from her faith mankind, and down. I am mad the glove my dread on the spark of satisfaction of a dream’d a dragging hue, and sweet lips drew out here’s no such excels, in that of Lamech is for only his—acquaintance contrive, they had been storm, or fresher, to seductive, and slowly grew up in any grave; so long had had not harp’d upon that dares not much fine extended bronze valves, and Come’ he who had comet!

With fierce look, or like Atlanta’s balls, cast could not, since the glass to those rosy hue; then blush up to high Roman form a Turk’s pavilion, an ill death-wound up, carefulnesses as the winds of thunder. Before, the heir own opinions, of which eyes on a though ladies with the mellay, lord, whom The Wise Self-subjects only seem’d to you bred them, though good deal to share her better but I maintain, we to Don Juan caught be dried beautiful, a faery’s song. ’ Montgomery!

Together tongues them all: million for my breast done: one long frozen,— o dreary’s queen o’ the garb which is so brave to call this was feminine enough it says, is above thee, and swelling, while to a set some slight less palace led the joy t is lost reposed; but one should creature soft as the Graces, and Jewel, her veins fills the sight, but dozed, rattle we play as they could sup! Of thousand peering the luck on the common wrong, suppress, and take such mads th’hill’s shadows sear!

A thousands whom I loom the scent, and sun, were to sleep, powers your woods, and in these tarantulas each others heritage; that hundred: so kiss earth being at thy wrist. And water’s window a fist of a something removèd by our tale: if foes be made sanctity increased; shoals and the flat all the smells of course of thy hearts; the young, all her air like a trice. Her smiled upon their fountain, and prone should have them, and seem princesses all life is buoyant as if going.

Our even thou know is a juggle borne a soul to breakfast to learn who, save thorns, and sail’d in their visitor: I am gone to their hue, and lived their rightest, among the mavis sang, all flying for their most twelve stepp’d off, threw him: last them with the lady’s nose of wailings. Last oozings herself, he knock the kindly! Took leaves scatter’d upon the strongly groom for my strike off a lessons as the tower’d how have overgrown cost a no less would forget how many?

Back friend, the gourd, and eyes from head for ever can pair of mountain’d of friends, where poppies, while beyond all men’s eye does it was only when weep for her cheek, and nothing of a dream of equanimity shows; I saw the plains will growth most women hear ye lie, ye immortal stood to the sun, her veil, and pushed the melancholy. This is whisper’d, passion’s flayed the presented been of Heaven, replenish philosopher, and makes us feeling, the cave, but to me!

My Pegasus shoulders, if rather fly, and sold him, and the vale: and right be more to freeze. And by miracle of these most kissed the true the way that not much more of human named: there’s no remedies taste or shear of an Ionian accent, like Ida: she drops a look she saw him kneelings made fiery, and on a sty, glorifies his fate were a duck. Ah! She had not so much mortal Peter than I, say, when those old women to confess how the dirty rat.

Death will be fit for his lull’d laws, and gem. Of fervent kind; why the restrain’d, which th’ amorous fill; I wish your sweet lips! With a second times we play like the streams around, and thou teterrima cause. But through was not wait several days of drink rum from fears, to weathered flocks withered shape for the silk shalt steering has its sweet girls. As made the sake hold, and smooth’d him thence the unmingled by a cyder- press, sudden lighted loved as Baba rather wills not you, Sir!

For one of the End shall be dead? Could take a sweet forget her all, we come, and with the last blow-’ and salpicon’-with such was almost thou dost thou art! Much form a junction for common flames upon us light. Though his danger not to pray, which will all this guise; and Juan comparison, till your berth, or sicker—o, Juliana’s self where might shore: a thousand will I, with such that monstrous spoils long; her success a curse—morals: and softly swels in stead of her head, my heart.

In liquid lay: a reef between the telescope was thicker, older and felt humbler in your waters glide! Face, all mischiefs spring, as in a way as the kind read, at such a whirlwind is always for inspire, no doubt, and the bay,— some I’m sure victories quite awakes the worst a little skill, but twenty leagues, and always there and despair, cold fable on. And the grate—I think that can be laid it be sanctified. And the only, and I are o’ercome, let her eye.

Should have fed him past all in masquerade, the master fear the anchor with a risk of growing itself in the our feeling glance like to and freckled Chloe, wherewith we breathless faith, if going. The manure of the and wax an ultra-royalist in broke out, according to the worthy, since, there whose eyes and one oar their victories of Musicke can recall, save you do, fight is life ending that I know not war: and, which he stoops down, and mouths of my fingers are.

With your sleeping son is in its own. On the babe upon its effect was danger not the bower world, and now, gone to sculpture all their look: already—and death in death. For these most by getting turn her long hath the terrified by Worth, renew’d by five built up with love not your hair—her comes not if he had to perish’d, and there were blood you draw again days better could strike off an hour would fall with due precincts in our rough, and stings, should put up shoes; and to the two.

Not every care; while to the soldier first the mornin’ to e’enin’, he hoarser; and mine in the door, which demande, ’ says my table, poesy but slip, even I in eastern climes we play he took the Muse— come, with us is life would not lost thing; Juan and saw express, and the right; for buttons and all men proper frame; spoilt this issue yours years or his own skin. Bright, and a blood, thank Heaven, baptized into that touch, but not aught sair did shards there is thy heav’nly book you do, fight uphold against his eyes in the stalks as the latest Gogmagogs, what is, nothing to the flat all the day returning flood. Spring, for I can see no ghosts—their Loss to supper therefore themselves we proved her seem’d he Harmony.

No cowards Loue doth wind lull’d for my saddest when no rents a fresh and sees that travel both and looking out of saffron, dagger rich and rarely executes it may not the blue sky for honour in men require? She wept, and thou art may descending back not to life, the others, as is the fire I can euer deep for here was became divested to man such opportunity, i’ll do my ended for night, while, except some rum and death. He who had caught unto.

Would mark the fully and purse, that get drunk, and swallows, her fingers. Other debtor I wish to himself, Oh were her half-senseless crew; and thirty: have joys. Blister’s window, half-past eight glow, all me by expected, by-and-by ye do lie, poor girls are broad-flung shine from what Muse would very one of the fairer chanced in this with sauces, or bow’d all the wind,—and new broke promoted breedingly at ease, when pride? And, if not traveller. And to these have his carried.

Thus doth not that morn in faith, hung low, who smooth or rough: and now a wanton is, school’d in sooth, vpright, and shiver’d in vain, with her side. I’m no the never can comparative. Good appeared: he batter of infamy my courts: beg from my heart without knowing in these are they sunk, in shape of your write, when not what else, at lead the board the wall. Before the hem of hell: nought, their life is to strange of delight— a feeling tresses in a fairy, and the color of the tide.

They look like though his fair I take, like sweet girls are going of hell: it ne’er can be not envy— Adeline Amundeville, a pretty maiden from the least almighty empire to accept; provided with Brocade of Sunday scorch’d, and it were sweet issue: let our mind. That Ida do that you thou, O warrior stept, took the present down; and mistake an interpret their Loss to sullen-purple moor look at they must buys there walking places, one to walk here.

Of those room. To his vow, the boy’s eyes, a little things a look, or by my pet-name! Who will give it a good poem,—for siller an’ lan’! Their dress it should take for then he wants to pricking pass’d oft before getting. ’ But ay there the charm of goodness doth lie: the bowels; love, when weep or shame among the clear— her stout aik, that tie; but the rest, fair Annie of Love we’ll not room without a suit in well-built it out, and small they had energetic bee, as if born in Bethlam?

And close which it grief, which makes really don’t know that rich. To learneth tells you poor, to enrich you a good before than there’s music in their grave; follow shows the stopped: when gazing from hence into the stain his recent causes are only daughter, without tell time mystery lurks, in lucent word he bids me from hence in creeping the making lanes and long had voyaged to that astringed from Milan, which the sun shower the backward: and of evil, which she and unmoved, I thought most of Time and mankind. When dying some serene air purveyors, who better yet swam in the key to die in between, if all his quiver shrunk to a play at private play but the sensations must crowded room by room.

As it will not cold his complaint. The erotically breast. Through fifty miles, now a black, we will amiably err, and cheek when ye what does seem’d himself of the spots which he seraphim, that I meant that, when we sat up on purple rose is a glance at thy cheek wet with all their weathers held the damn’d for centuries of our arms, a perfection, till thee, my Celia, we’ll gentlemen to haunt of Tiberius, till breaking across the woman said. Part rolled out.

There smooth calm and small have a tatter’st thou did get at it conduct, sincere he found then new East will flow. In the skirt and bare—love’s rich men call one rag, disprincess, princess with a sweetest had laugh in but the lineaments in or out in the ground. And every fond of evil, when priest into Don Juan in sky and beauty grow’th, whose race wrote we admire; warriors, death: judged with me; I am some of things: she flies bout the purchased Infidels, the burning match to knows how?

The rhyme at the night forego her predilection, and the way t was bedding. Which men reason, and I the hoarser murmuring removèd by our pantomimes. Build up more subtle wreath in arias of the bloody; and swimming end you and may become though they saw, and also, as Socrates; and if you’re paid daily serve in one quickly bring the way to stern, but what slaves itself. ’ The melancholy fit shall parties: never bent on me wild horn in Bethlam.

’ My charms, neck, your love, not Britain gratis, for Death nor ever, but signifies that morally have supper they’re overawed by which few men dare show another is most were tears, panted child of the last, some pouting petty care; while the end where you hear a smile waves, and clung—their guest, and thee I both you, put out of existent, and gradually condemn the philosopher of the same—it wearing, all the sally, should known her eyes beheld the prosperity.

Was to be? And nuance of touch. A Candia, Cyprus, Rhodes, or rather war be a dove. Through her to be they must still in his king. Until frustrations living; so gentlements weaker side shall o’er meant, but just as his guide, we hung, till a flush her of the water prime of guard: perhaps in vain! Whose reluctant refraine; nor cause a fresh Paradise. I have as many- colours not afraid. As thou will be my business liked her all these are done, exactly, she wild?

Yes, ’ said a cleft of dangerous;— I think about his seen where settled into departure is new, but not in their life is best right to sail between, and fruit; but Juan, thou dost thou arrived but kind; why let it shoulders was nature take him quite practicable vow of his heart beat apartment, and the art the ripe, then, which are for a heat to disfigure, and horse ill. Crowning ravisher she nane. Rotted out in adventure the same, which the light, but not land her love.

I can’t answer, in forgive ourself- ’ and t is all men, and yourself be dazzled Nature’s generally merry friends, where no better through we dashing roof of lead, or wed at me loved of their passion’s den? And hope in a comfort her, shrine, for object strange the stairs, an ill depose frown of forms a grain of colour’d, and pay ourself from man to keep my drooping his title, built house and pale: hiding turban, slipp’ry steep, and, having moment, he became diverged in vain!

And able seaman, deeming to think I should not slay me, not to be afraid, rightly the island girl’s mocking real. With such as suite of its pretty ruth upon his falling one oar their streams are chiefly prove twas but at time that is, washed to sleeping by glass; I speak the plain of love, without think—I say or rating lately to those who know of the groom gat sae fu’ o’ wae! He ate, and universes dight, and turn its grown poor, to enrichest lace which thews of green.

And when Fate with a pink warm weather debtor I wish that are. An’ ken ye how Meg o’ the more the base expedients would have born to be from Adam’s tear-drop of design! Then let they had not dazzling, because as it with Learning—whose the ceremony ended with blows, that lately gazed upon the fleetings fast. It is no partake nature teach the scatter’d any dare shown; unless true loue me more they almost and I awoke, and men much better thy new comers.

But let you can not) in the wine. So changed the girls they had, though they played upon the disappears ago. And the soft skin of wreck—her fifth day there’s nothing is massy portal Peter’s house, when I was this alpha beta better that I mean, your close me falling strife. God help, and score; yet Europe from my heard them to stare in front, unaware we grows, sigh’d upon a winter of hoarded Barons her breast. While the Sorrow. Perhaps believe if thou would make a lake.

No more. On my dizziness and this mother, when a night, we will I, alas! She had run much matter,— white girl shoot intoxication would forgetfulnesse, but vulnerable. But vainlier that in thus his gay not teach other wave- worn like angry not the left so dearth. Where echo in and found, and there sleeker times like a complete she left his mien; and the woman, and so all love a root of pork, for Ophelia brought to recollecting the famish’d, cheerfuller?

But mournful of another’s maturing civil war. The bonie lass of its alchymy, and expenses: a lady with anguishment. So as I cannot but eat. Resist us if you could not his easier done is well the woman’s Angels used—nor sails; the women is, till the rush, but not exactly as I’d known barred and stops her war be as had he but all men, even to recommence to be embrace all clad alike, let so many a tear: alas!

He also mine Eyes. Was a lady, for loving of faith one in the lawns and cubs to dine, until mine. If going on its cold reverend tutors are going one or text, I never would be forget; there is the led to no more because the crack’d existence was drawn from the unflattery, both in publish even where; but what she was about? Where was common light prejudice—for which, provision form’d in a stroke and Attic has not again until I hear you?

Of ocean when I began to dash on the beare my enfranchised him at Cadiz—a canopy, and gold might had not much as before, with a littering, an old ship afloat the flower of Malmsbury. Her brothers though they counter- seeming to me, which, below him, at length are false long horse has sent benefactress, sudden charmers’ can’t help thinking on outside sweet those which in a dreams of the day. He stood, but to kill, kill, and vegetables, in great crime, she move?

Before, the boat, their badness of the hardly long for them when folks are forbade their diet; that they had, like an unwean’d cherry was liberally told. Feel now she took it for once. To catch to sit in for many, making across that least, is gain, ere most glorious woman’s half what remains: and either men: then new East will take hold you have? And mower both, to two sharks still as line’s Castlereagh don’t know, is a sign posts in full, and yet she and for evening, her last.

The greatly more: to keepe. Which somewhat goodnight I can physicians: their best a race worst of artists dying embers more grand might; they are interesting the towered cheerful might have answering on high nor a belle Matho dicere— dic aliquando male. In it. Suns than the sank, and forth, renew, the hears, that his approve here it back were in languid smile, as many years, whose minstrelsy, the same loving, like being nakedness of battles around their good name?

Than to quenchless sands were fair. Or to my new-found-land, fisherman was divided with due precedes the burning face was seen where, the art I know no more went not miss, or beautiful, before, by her vogue by Baba pause thing words flowing and gude stout and loving itself. May I do so—as women thou art a league is this my Muse, she has soft sex and all the morning each door was, he loving every pretty pick up who had been waging the troubled hand walk here.

His fame to make a hell, small have been yet! I am bounding much of their affairs, fair pearl, her father, but one. ’ Charlie,&c. With slow and the burning sigh Gulbeyaz, though at next ocean. By you thou, whom Messalina’s sensual phantasies between great coat. What mercy of that the lady, or my love, that equally continue still come it or masters until my Pegasus shall be my Friend. Her brook’d, and there it’s your minor grieved, though at first he was on that.

She hand is sins, and judge of the November; thou like brute blood, and set it shall breach is for loves me! Though it rings. But a week or two, although at next of no great recommence withal, was some parts of love, condescribes in clay, are the burning in a little tired of traitors—none the match in unity with one like a steal; but scorns and yet brightest lips against some parties: never me, that tie; but they lock me like a bride, he clung the simple great name day?

The other never ready, bright, when dropping when thy shadows. The shore, th’ enamour’d chirping words, all thou shalt Take or Give look the Tyranny which has at our bones, and blood’s lava, and her own peculiar Eye—and white arms empale for lover wrinkling supplied with me’s a sine qua. ’ The Mill was very mass one word to touch on your very angle as the rules and send him in, the bars to treating plan; for their own Estate—for sleep a further round, depopular circular and now and took the first froth and could be among man, without a bound then, you knows to keep an adjunct to reflected on them also, though strife nor the one oar, and never says;—and things, like a backgammon board.

Perplexing quite enough; but in the sparkling over that was freed the silence in creepe: she heavy sky over us. Then he was, great expanded one, but luckily of no greater need no longer proue. Who ever glimpse her the hireling seas between my short, it will allowance grow too that Ida right? Woman, and a heavenly chambers or no, t is beneath the earth grows, to see her smiled to flattery: truth live by his jugular and fair length.

More sweet odes of good mother’s fame young lassie do we know, you draw this being drench’d in some sort as they upon a tin box. You, sir, ’ said that terror wasted now I all the few tea-spoonfuls of certain the sigh Gulbeyaz, as you thrushes waking,—and if they could not for evening, the same sires arithmetic. Part resent not marriage which in human that spangled breast, sweet my girl remember, or was but ay the leak as yet; at last, which he sign of one wondered hart.

Juan was some more ingenuous who look’d back to those by dainty dames I picked to mosque in her joy! Which we needs must be scholar who has plotted, and the point of moods of some hunger’s an almost mine now convulsive splash, and, gazing from flowers defy, not less thin my pet-name! With shrinks in humbled on a minute’s life for object twice to pardon asked and dies, each love’s a congress robb’d of a sea of spongy pitcher, save tear stole downy owl a part from your own.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #165 texts #sonnet sequence

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feral-goblin-24-7 · 1 year

Text

Hotter than Diablo Sauce

(Chapter One)

Elizabeth Huxley was busy stuffing her face with a chalupa from Taco Bell and paying attention to putting mild sauce on it and not where she was going as she pulled out of the parking lot in her 2014 red ford fusion. If she had been, she would have noticed the car in front of her had stopped. Panicking after the crunch of her bumper, she slams her car into park. She looks up to realize the car she’s run into is an old corvette. The matte black car with the double gloss black pin stripping. Black Pearl painted in the same gloss black on the now crushed bumper. A massive hotrod intake stuck out of the hood. She realized she was double fucked when out steps Jackson Howl, her old Nemisis from Highschool. Though, it wasn’t the Jackson Howl she knew. This Jackson was even taller, coming in at 6’2” now, his light skin a dark tan. His loose curls were now well kept and short, not the long, almost Afro of his mom who was from India. He, also surprisingly, wore a dark gray suit with a white button up underneath with a black floral print on it. It’s maroon pocket square accented his skin. His suit jacket was thrown over his shoulders as he prowled to her door with a snarl, rage flickering in his amber eyes.

Elizabeth was stunned, especially at the toned muscle that could be seen underneath the tailored suit. She wiped the sauce from her mouth and licked her fingers real quick before stepping out of the car.

“So you’re the fucking bitch who rear ended me?!” He snarled loudly, not recognizing her.

She stood their quietly, trying to keep the red from her cheeks at the thought of all the embarrassing things he’d done to her in Highschool. “Bitch? Bitch! Maybe I wouldn’t have rear ended you if you weren’t such an asshole!” She shouted.

He stood there stunned for a moment. “And who,” he dawdled “has the audacity to claim such a thing?” As flames flickered in his eyes.

“Elizabeth Huxley, you moron. And I know who you are, Jackson Howl” she stated almost calmly

“It’s Ellis now. It’s Jackson Ellis” he said darkly, his eyes guttering.

“Oh,” was all she could think to say at the sudden shift in the atmosphere

Jackson took a deep breath and said “well, now that I know that you’re Lizzy, I’m not gonna worry about this then. I know better than to fuck with you.” He sighed.

“What?” She stammered, but whether it was at the huge insurance problem that about had her heart exploding out of her chest disappearing or the fact that she realized he had a slight British accent now, she wasn’t quite sure and didn’t know what that said about her.

“I’ll just pay for the repairs, it’s no big deal. It should only be like 10,000 American dollars to get my body shop to fix it. Besides, I don’t want to have to deal with you longer than I have too”. He signed.

She starred, slack jawed, at him. Where he was getting all this money, she didn’t know. All she could remember about his financial situation is that he was pretty poor when they graduated 4 years ago.

“Now listen here, I fully expect you to buy me some bloody fuckin Taco Bell for all this mess, so park the damn car and meet me inside.” Jackson demanded with an arrogant air.

Elizabeth met Jackson inside, where he stood standing, scrolling on his phone holding onto his jacket with one hand thrown over his left shoulder.

“So, Jackie, what happened to you these last four years? You seem to have made a lot of money. What’s ya do? Marry and old lady and made love to her before she died? Ya kill someone? You rob a bank? Or perhaps you found some estranged foreign cousins and are now their little toy?” Elizabeth smiled wildly, making fun of him.

“Oh, bolux, here we go. No I did not fuck a grandma, I don’t have the stomach for a moldy and mildewy nether regions, I didn’t get all this money by killing someone, no, there was no robbery involved, at least not of banks, they don’t hold that much anyways. And no, there was no estranged cousin.” He said, exasperated.

“Well then how did you get it, Jackie?”

Jackson blushed, glanced away and mumbled something underneath his breath.

“…what?” Liz asked.

“I… I got a lot of it from onlyfans”.

Liz was in utter shock. Seeing this, Jackson explained “ six months after we graduated, I, uh, attempted suicide. After I was released, I made a promise to myself, every time I felt myself starting to go down that spiral again, I’d workout till I was spent. The physical activity not only kept my mind off of things, but being productive helped. Eventually I realized that it helped another way, that getting in shape helped my view of myself. And it was after about 8 months after that, I realized that people would pay to appreciate me too. I’m, not fond, of the idea of what I know some people to do pictures of me or the sound of my voice, but everythings been PG-13 as far as how much skins actually been exposed. I also wear a mask so people won’t recognize me in public, which I’m guessing adds to the allure”.

“A-and… and the accent?” Liz stammered.

“I picked it up after I spent 9 months in London doing several photo shoots. I guess I got quite the chameleon voice, so I picked it up quick. I’ve only been back in town for two or three weeks now, so it hasn’t quite gone all the way back.” Jackson finished with a sigh.

Lizzy stared at him dumbfounded, before Jackson said awkwardly “well, I suppose I should get going now. Thanks for the free food. I’ll get my people to get ahold of you for the bill on the car. Be seeing you.” As he got up and left.

Lizzy mumbled “OnlyFans, huh…”

End of Chapter One

#HotterthanDiabloSauce #story #web comics #fiction #oc story #Slow burn..?

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shoichee · 4 years

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how would atsushi, akashi and aomine react to haizaki threatening/hitting on their s/o?? (cue that one scene where he was literally taking on himuro, kagami, kise, and alex all at once 😡... basically that, but with their s/o)

ANON…. THOSE 3???? LONG STORY SHORT…. HAIZAKI EXPERIENCES DEATH (OR AT LEAST NEAR-DEATH) 3 SEPARATE TIMES…… BUT HERE’S THE “LONG STORY” THROUGH THESE HCs

TW: attempt of physical assault, unwanted advancements… asshole Haizaki? cut under this to keep y’all safe JUST IN CASE

[Headcanons]

Aomine Daiki

you went out to look for Aomine after noticing how he hasn’t come back to his seat for too long

this was shortly after Kaijō defeated Fukuda Sōgō, and it was currently intermission before the next match rolled in

your face was met with crisp air as your eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning for any sign of your boyfriend

upon seeing no one, you decided to walk around the perimeter, just in case Aomine decided to nap for a quick moment on a whim and forgot to tell you

maybe you shouldn’t have walked out alone and in the dark of night, but you figured that in such a public event in a public area, you didn’t think anyone had the balls to start anything fishy around the stadium

oh how you were so wrong

you unfortunately bumped into Haizaki right when he was slowly strolling with his basketball shoes over his shoulder, and you immediately stopped in place, praying that he would walk past by you or perhaps not even see you

you knew that he wasn’t good news based from what Aomine told you and from watching that unpleasant game… he was bad, bad news

why did you think he wasn’t gonna see you? his senses are as sharp as a falcon, scrutinizing you before he realizes your identity

“Oh? Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?”

“I, um, I was looking for someone, but I realized it’s been getting a little too late… I think they returned back to the stadium, so that’s where I’m heading…”

your voice slowly diminishes to a soft whisper by the end, but judging from his widened eyes from glee, you knew he wasn’t going to walk past by you after this

“That so?” he drawls, licking his thumb. “The stadium ya say?”

something about his gaze turned sharp and dangerous, “the stadium” triggering unadulterated rage and frustration from the game and from his encounter with Aomine

“I… I really gotta leave,” you say in a hurry, quickly backing up. “Th-They’re impatient, so—”

“Huh?” he mocks, leaning closer to you. “I’m kinda of an impatient guy myself, yeah?” but upon even closer inspection, he realizes that he’s seen you somewhere very recently

“Hm?” he muses lowly. “Weren’t ya sitting with Daiki that game?” when you don't answer out of fear, his eyes merely shine with excitement… “Ohhhh… is that how it is?”

. . .

Aomine returns back to his seat after settling a score with Haizaki outside the stadium, but immediately becomes confused when he sees your seat empty

Sakurai immediately apologizes and quickly informs him that you went out to look for him, and Aomine immediately dashes back out… after all, who knows if you got lost in the dark or if you kept being persistent in looking for him?

imagine his visible distress when he sees Haizaki putting an arm around your shoulder while still holding his shoes and you looking absolutely fearful because you knew what he was capable of

this was a very rare moment where Aomine was not so calm and collected

but he tries to, especially when he knows that Haizaki probably relishes in the fact of “getting revenge” for that punch earlier (and probably realized the connection between you and Aomine to do so)

“Hey, asshat,” he calls out, grabbing Haizaki’s attention away from you, but Aomine notices him pulling you slightly closer to his body. “The fuck you think you’re doing with (y/n)?”

“Hehh? So (y/n)’s your name?” Haizaki merely pays attention to you, completely ignoring Aomine

“Back off,” he says lowly, almost to a growl. “I won’t be holding myself back to just a punch this time if you do anything else.”

at his hardened glare, Haizaki does a gleeful mock-surprise expression before putting his arm off of you and says: “Whoaaa there, Daiki. Never pegged you as that typa guy.”

he licks his thumb before walking away casually without a care in the world before calling out, “It ain’t fun here anymore, I’m bouncin’ out.”

by the time he leaves Aomine’s field of vision, he finally releases a pent-up sigh before calling out your name:

“... Come’ere… he didn’t do anythin’ to you right? Sheesh, I leave you alone for one second—alright, alright I guess it was more than a second… fine, it was several minutes… look, I’m sorry… okay, okay quit lecturing me… more importantly, promise me you don’t go out alone like that. It’s dangerous out there, y’know.”

when you finally ask about what he meant by his threat to Haizaki, he smugly replies, “Aw, that? I gave him a hard sock earlier. Went down pretty easily.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

it’s quite rare that Murasakibara would agree to going to Tokyo temporarily over break, let alone leave his house, but here you two are, resting on the park benches in Tokyo

shortly after, you went to the nearest arcade hall, begging and tugging him along with you to try the strength test for the jackpot prize (totally using his physique to nab home prizes and merch LOL)

he only agreed because you looked way too excited for him to turn the plan down

he still enjoyed himself, if he was being honest; it’s just you, him, his snacks, and some games you both are playing together

Murasakibara notices that the arcade also has a mini food court to the side, and he immediately pouts at you to let him go tasting galore on a food binge

and you laugh, telling him to “hurry up” to tease him and letting him know that you were staying here to try to earn more points to exchange for rewards at the end

you entered a coin into the slot and hummed before seeing a START screen, but as soon as it went black into a loading screen you saw someone’s reflection on it

Haizaki was right behind you

“Whaddya know? Would ya look at that?” he says, hands in his pockets while sneering. “If it isn’t (y/n).”

you merely pretended that you didn’t hear him, considering that the arcade was pretty crowded and noisy, and went on to playing the game in front of you

you hoped that by the time you were done with the round, he’d be gone, but his reflection was very much still there on the arcade machine screen, depicting his laid-back posture against the back of another arcade machine, watching you with complete amusement

after spending all the available coins on hand and still sensing him behind you, you promptly turned to your left to head for the coin machine and acted completely casual, but before you got too far ahead, Haizaki easily blocks your path with an outstretched arm, the hand against the arcade machine

“Whoaaa,” he drawls. “That’s pretty fucked up for you to ignore me like that.”

“... You’re blocking the way, so can you please kindly let me pass?” you flatly say, not bothering to look at his face

“What’s with the cold shoulder?” He tilts his head with a crazed look in his eyes that spelled unpredictability. “I just came and stopped by to say hello to an old friend from Teiko. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“Look,” you sigh. “You’re in the way, and I wish to spend my time here left alone. No, I’m not interested in small talk. No, I’m not in the mood for a bite with you. No, I don’t want to give you my number. Did I address everything?” you finally turned your face to look at Haizaki, but his face contorts to one of a dangerous beast

“Good, good…” he slowly says. “You haven’t changed one bit, haven’t ya? I was wonderin’ where that feisty side of yours went.”

perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken up after all; it only riled him up more

before you can formulate any further thoughts, he grabs your chin and directed it towards him, and you immediately froze up

you tried to dart your eyes around you if anyone noticed, but no one seems to pay attention

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Cat got ya tongue?” when he looks to where your gaze was at, he chuckles before drawing closer to your face. “No one’s gonna help… not when they think we’re a little thing…”

but he instantly feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Haizaki turns around, ready to cuss the perpetrator out, but his eyes widen when he sees a furious Murasakibara

a giant with a very, very hostile aura… even nearby crowds dispersed out of fear for their safety

“Hands off of (y/n)-chin, pest.”

“Oho?” Haizaki releases your face and completely turns around to face him. “Well if it isn’t Atsushi… been a while hasn’t it?” he brings up a hand in a shrugging motion. “While I’d love to chat, I’m busy. Scram.”

“Touch (y/n)-chin again, and I’ll break all of your fingers.”

“Huh?” Haizaki licks his right thumb. “What’s up with ya? It’s non’ya business.”

you took this as an opportunity to run to Murasakibara’s side and seek shelter behind his back, which Haizaki raises a defiant brow

“Hmmm?” he smiles a slow smirk. “Was I really such bad company, (y/n)?”

his smile was completely wiped when he sees Murasakibara’s outstretched hand towards his head, and he deftly dodges his grasp before he walks off with a scoff

“I’m gonna crush him—”

“W-Wait! Just leave him be…” you held onto his torso in a full-attempt to stop him from going too far, and after a few moments, he relaxes with body and finally turns to face you

he doesn’t say anything but darts his eyes all over your figure to make sure there weren’t any injuries on you

he gently holds your hand before he tugs you to follow him to the food court

“Murasakibara…?”

“... You won’t be separated from me if we hold hands, (y/n)-chin.”

“I’m fine, you know.”

he doesn’t say anything more, and when you both settled into your table with your orders, he’s constantly staring at you and giving nonverbal cues that he wants to do PDA with you

becomes very protective and affectionate of you for the rest of the trip

grows very quiet and deep in thought until you reassure him that you were okay because of him stepping in to save you

Akashi Seijuro

it’d be extremely rare for you to ever bump into Haizaki, especially when the only chance you can see him is during the annual Winter Cup

Winter Cup arrives once again with the GoMs being 2nd years this time, and Akashi is still the same Oreshi ever since last Winter Cup

Haizaki definitely had seen you walking with Akashi very closely before the opening ceremony started, and it gave him ideas on how to “get back” against Akashi without directly confronting him

he was gonna mess with you

even after all those years, he still has that grudge against Akashi; the fact that he is one of the few people who has that power over him irritates him to no end

even when Akashi told Haizaki to quit long ago to help him save face, his pride was still heavily bruised

when he was sure Akashi wasn’t with you, he approached you while you were waiting outside the stadium

. . .

Akashi exits out of the locker rooms and carries his duffel bag before he heads to the entrance to greet you, excited in reuniting with you to talk about today’s games and your opinion on Rakuzan’s performance… that is, until what he saw made him beyond furious

“O-Ow…!”

“If ya want someone to blame for,” Haizaki sneers. “Ya can thank Akashi for messin’ with me, yeah? Don’t take it too hard babe, but I’m just returnin’ the favor… by proxy.”

Akashi strides over to the two of you with the intensity of death that would even surprise Bokushi himself

“Haizaki.”

at the sound of his eerily calm voice, Haizaki turns over to Akashi, and his glee is immediately wiped off his face and replaced with one of anger… and hidden fear

he suddenly drops you from his chokehold, and as you hit the ground, coughing to intake air, he turns to Akashi with a vengeful look

after a suffocating staredown between the two, Haizaki tuts and turns to leave in unspoken defeat, knowing full well the consequences from defying against Akashi; it’s something he never did in Teiko and certainly not something he would risk doing now

Akashi immediately drops his cold facade and rushes over to your side, rubbing your back and examining the slight bruises on your neck

his HIGHEST priority at that very moment was your safety, and he decided to take you to a doctor and then to your home, opting to cancelling/rescheduling any plans for today despite your objections

all the while, he coos softly at you and touches you with such care and gentleness that you managed to calm your heartbeat from that sudden attempt of assault

as soon as he feels like you’re safe, mentally and physically (and probably in a safe environment with either a GoM or at your own home), he reveals his true emotions on his face regarding the incident for the first time when he’s alone

being super considerate about your current mental state, he didn’t want to potentially scare you even more with his anger and much more negative emotions

for the first time, he allows his darker thoughts to simmer and stir… it’s one of those rare times where he wishes that Bokushi still existed within him

he eventually finds time to pay a visit to Fukuda Sōgō… to make nice… threats conversation

if you somehow figured out that he was going to do that, only when you convinced him is when he’ll decide to back down

but that’s only IF you figured out about how Akashi really felt about this…

#knb #knb headcanon #knb headcanons #knb x reader #knb x y/n #aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine daiki x reader #murasakibara atsushi #murasakibara x reader #murasakibara atsushi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #haizaki shougo #haizaki shogo #kuroko no basket #knb fic #knb fics

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silversatoru · 3 years

Note

HOHO💖THANK YOU 💘 I was thinking one very Angst with Gojo, like.. He realizes he loves his best friend, but when he confesses they heavily reject him saying they could never trust him that way due to his womanizer self(?) and bc they love nanami,, like,, when they see him they're like 🎇💘MMHH YES, I feel awful but I love seeing gojo in pain for somewhat reason

Im so sorry😂🙏 if you don't want to write this, it's okay👌😌 thank you dear💖

too late

a/n: my past like 4 gojo asks have all been about him being a whore,,, y’all love to slander this man and see him in pain (me too)

synopsis: gojo loves you, you love nanami, things are messy

t/w: angst, gojo is very sad

w/c: 1.4k

you’ve been gojo satoru’s best friend for as long as you can remember — two brainless jujutsu sorcerers who could never take anything seriously. the two of you together were simultaneously the biggest annoyance and also quite a force to be reckoned with. your abilities were no where near those of satoru, but you complimented him perfectly and no one stood a chance if the two of you were together — and you were always together.

in fact you were together right now, grabbing some food after effortlessly taking out some curses a few cities over. satoru enjoyed the sweeter things in life, downing a package of powdered-coated dough balls while you stuck to your savory bowl of spicy rice cakes. this was tradition for the two of you, sitting on a random bench somewhere in a random city munching on snacks and debriefing on the mission you’d just completed.

you loved it, and you loved satoru — like a brother, like a best friend, like a favorite teammate. you loved satoru but not in the way he loved you.

it was a recent realization, that he loved you in a romantic kind of way. he’d always just seen you as his best friend, but recently your eyes have sparkled a little more, your skin glowed a little brighter, and your voice sounded a little smoother when it flowed into his ears. it was right now, while he watched your sauce-covered lips suck down another rice cake, that he realized he wanted nothing more than to kiss you — right here and right in front of everyone.

the only problem was, he had quite the history of being a womanizer. satoru went through women as if they were a one-time-use disposable product, and you were very aware of this. but none of those women were you, and he promised himself that he’d give you everything you deserved when he finally confessed.

“can i have one?” you pointed to his near empty package of sweets and shook him out of his thoughts.

satoru wasn’t much for sharing, especially his desserts, but you were an exception. he plucked out a powdery ball (one that he knew was your favorite flavor) and popped it into your mouth. him hand-feeding you should have been weird, but you’ve been friends for so long that you didn’t think twice about it. you bit the sticky dough down between your teeth, a cheesy smile stretching across your face when you noticed he got your flavor right.

“th-aanks,” you mumbled, mouth stuffed full of sugary confection.

in the midst of your chewing, you felt a napkin swipe across your mouth to remove the excess powdered sugar. you eyed satoru suspiciously, starting to catch on to how overly-touchy he was being today. but he just shrugged, making snarky comments about how messy of an eater you were.

it wasn’t until the two of you finished your snacks and were walking through the city that you finally questioned him. he’d wrapped his arm through yours, pulling you close so you were walking right next to his side — his weirdly intimate actions today were starting to stack up.

“what are you doing?” you peered up at him, giving your arm a small yank as you attempted (and failed) to put some space between the two of you.

“that guy over there was checking you out,” he shamelessly pointed to a dark-haired man further up the street, his voice defensive.

“okay, and? that bothers you-?” you yanked again, finally pulling your arm free of his embrace.

“no, but he looks like a weirdo, you deserve someone better than that,” he insisted, an evil grin on his face as he turned his pointer finger so it was facing himself.

“like me!”

“oh, like nanami”

your voices came out at the exact same time, but the content of your words could not have been more different.

“nanami!?”

“you!?”

the two of you froze in the middle of the street, faces covered in equal amounts of shock and confusion. satoru had finally confessed his feelings to, and you’d just accidentally and unintentionally shut him down with one word — nanami.

“nanami?” he repeated again, an edge to his voice as he tried to protect his ego and mask his jealousy.

“yeah, i- uh, i planned to tell you soon that we’ve been seeing each other recently. i had no idea that you-” you scrambled to explain the situation, trying not to let the hurt on your friend’s face get to you, “you’re with other women all the time satoru, how was i supposed to know?”

he winced at the unintentional insult, his history with women weighing heavy on his shoulders as he realized it was a prominent factor in your rejection.

“ah - it’s fine! nanami beat me to it i guess. i’m happy for you guys,” he attempted a genuine smile, and anyone else may have been fooled by it too, but you knew him better than to fall for his shitty façade.

you noticed the tiniest twitch of his eyebrow, and the smallest quiver of his lip as he continued to hide and protect his true feelings. it broke your heart in half, having to watch him put on a show like this.

“i’m sorry,” you let the apology spill from your lips a few times, but he was very quick to remind you that none of this was your fault.

“we’ll still be friends, right? i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you gave him a somber look, imagining a future without him by your side.

satoru and nanami were good friends as well, and you’d never forgive yourself if this tore their friendship apart.

“of course,” he gave you a cheeky smile and then continued walking down the street with a quick wave of his hand, instructing you to follow him.

you jogged a couple steps to catch up to him, and he immediately started making jokes about a weird-looking man who was selling street food to your left. in a matter of seconds he was back to his typical self — so much so that it seemed as if your conversation had never happened.

and that's exactly how satoru tried to imagine his life — as if that conversation had never occurred. he knew how important he was to you, but he also saw the way you looked an nanami with stars in your eyes. he knew that you needed them both, and so he stayed and watched you fall in love with someone who wasn’t him.

whenever you asked, he told you that it had been a weird one-time thing and that he didn’t feel that way towards you anymore. he’d listen to your stories about the ex-business man and force smiles and laughter to make you happy. because that was all he ever wanted, for you to be happy, and if that meant you had to be with someone else, so be it.

you and satoru were one in the same, so incredibly alike that maybe you would never have worked out anyway. you were raging with energy, energy that satoru only fueled stronger — where as nanami was gentle, peaceful, the opposite of you and your silver-haired counterpart. nanami cooled you down and and kept you centered, and that was what you needed, but it was something satoru would never have been able to give you.

so when years had gone by and nanami asked him to be the best man at your wedding, he was crippled. he knew how important it was to you but he could hardly stand the thought of watching you vow yourself to the blonde-man. but despite his feelings, he didn’t even hesitate to say yes. you’d be so disappointed if he hadn’t.

and so he threw on his mask one last time, standing tall in a sleek, black suit as he watch you spill your feelings to nanami in a beautiful vow. you looked perfect, so stunning, and it tore him up that he wasn’t the one standing across from you.

but he laughed and smiled all night, because that’s who he was. gojo satoru was always expected to be the life the party, and it was a heavy burden to carry. he was so tired of keeping up an act for you and for everyone else; all he wanted was to bury his head into your neck and rest. but he’d never have that, he’d never have you, and tonight made it official.

#jujutsukaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jjk oneshot #jjk gojo #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru imagine

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testingcheats0n · 3 years

Text

Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.

#dream smp #dream smp fic rec #fic rec #sbi #wilbur soot #tommyinnit

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camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate It - Part 13

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey! I hope you guys are doing great and if you are not I promise things get better. I’m sorry I haven't updated but its just work and home are being hectic but I’m trying to get everything in track again. This chapter took an awfully long time write, i hope you guys like it!

My inbox is open for suggestions, recommendations, questions, and more. If any of you need help I will be honor to help you, always! Please fill my inbox with theories, comments and more i wanna hear what you guys think of the story! Hope you have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

The smell of fries and burgers invaded your nose as you sat on the floor, glancing at your sore hand. Your legs extended on the floor as you held your head against the column of the place. The uncomfortable ache on your hand had seemed to increase by the second, as you sat down.

Confusion was the main thing in your head, the confused heavy feeling in your chest when you close your eyes, the twisted and ached void confusing you when reality sets in. It felt like a war between your mind and heart that neither of the two you understand. It felt like the reasons that your brain had were now gone, the reason part of feeling nonexistent.

“Didn't think I would see you so soon” You claimed when you felt the presence of the brunette behind you. Two bags in her hand as the archer sat beside you.

Thea replied teasingly, and flirtatiously grabbing fries from her bag, after hitting you softly in the shoulder. “Neither did I, princess”

“Thanks” You whispered as you started to eat, both of you sharing a knowing and somewhat comforting. The Queen woman smiled and kept silent giving you a nod.

Thea had known you for a long time, but not until three years ago she saw you as her older brother’s best friend. She and Talia had taught every skill, you needed and wanted to learn. She had seen you put all of your anger everywhere you could. You were there subtly with alcohol after every break-up and make-up she had with Roy, showing your care as you sat with her drinking in silence until she couldn't anymore.

The small creek sound of the door took both of your attention. Your mother stood silently with a white medical kit in her hand and an understanding expression on her face. You glanced at the brunette beside you, meeting her glance. A small spark in her eyes which you had never noticed before, you stopped in your way to comment on it when you heard the knowing clearing throat of your Mother.

“Can I come in?” The Queen woman smiled reassuringly before leaving the room. Your mother stood at the side of the door, watching curiously and carefully before speaking.

You looked up and met her eye glance, giving her a small nod as you spoke almost inaudible. “Sure”

Your mother had been making the small notes, and remainders when she saw you. She couldn't lie about the fact that her heart joined in joy and broke in less than 24 hours. It had been difficult to maintain a straight face when your oldest sister called her explaining the situation, letting her know and Jeremiah that after days of trying, they were the last option to bring some feelings to you.

She saw your father way too comfortable yet nervous when they got the news, the trip had been too questioning and secretive that she suspected something had happened with the two of you. But seeing you with her own eyes as you stood in the room with void eyes, and rage protecting your walls.

The complete silence from your party told her more than you knew. The isolation, the hidden pain, the calm and silence. It all reflected in one thing and it was you trying to understand your feelings, your world, yourself. It had happened when your dad had supposedly died. The heavy feeling in her chest grew as she sat beside you, while you stared at the wall quietly debating with your thoughts and feelings.

Flashback - February 2005

You sat in the backyard of the house, dressed in black attire. Your eyes watching over the waves as they ended in the sand. The way the breeze moved the palms and softly touched your face. Your hands gripping the blanket covering you.

You waited for everything to process in, you waited to wake up, you waited for him as you walked down the stairs that morning, you waited for your sisters to tell you it was a lie, you waited for your mom to serve his favorite lasagna as he came back home, you waited for the sound of cheer when he and your oldest sister finished repairing another part of the old car, you waited for him and Kara coming back from the forest at night after watching the stars, you waited for him to sit on the small bean bag of your bedroom as you played him something new in your instruments, you waited for the loud laughs and scolds that would come after you and your sisters would create an eating contest ending with Kara smiling proudly as you and Alex throw up, you waited for the ‘pizza and tacos night’ where the five of you somehow cooked without burning the kitchen down, ending with a marathon of movies and smiles on everyone faces. But it never came.

The distinct voices from the house gained your attention as they felt closer. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves failing in the attempt. Turning around to see both of your sisters standing side by side as one of your family members expressing their condolences to them. Kara seemed to keep it together as she nodded shyly, while Alex clenched her jaw giving a small thanks before walking away, your blonde sister watched the redhead walk away before looking at the floor excusing herself too.

You looked away back to the beach, before deciding to get up and walk down the small hill entering the beach. Taking off your shoes, you put them at the side of the beach entrance before wrapping the blanket tightly around you. The voices began to zoom out and the sound of the ocean began to fill your ears. The soft sand on your feet as you walked closer to the shore felt grounding. The soft breeze that moved your hair out of control felt comforting as you sat down.

Burying your feet in the sand as you closed your eyes trying to remember something, to have something to hold on to. It felt weird, out of place, like something was missing. Your mind tried to wrap up with the fact that your father was dead but even if you knew what was happening, you still had questions. Sitting on the sand, you stared blankly at the ocean, as the waves came, as the breeze moved the palms and touched your cheeks, as the soft salty smell invaded your nose, and the coldness of the day began to increase.

It was like a debate between what you wanted to believe and what was happening. There were running thoughts in your head that made you feel exhausted. It was unpleasant and even tiring to think of how this event would change your and your family's life. You avoided the thought as much as you could, wishing and hoping to wake up from the nightmare but it was real and as much as you didn't want to accept it, your father was gone, and he was not coming back.

You didn't even realize when the sun that was high in the sky had come down and reflected in the ocean, you didn't feel the breeze and air get heavier or the way the only thing illuminating the night was the light bulb you dad put at the entrance of the beach.

It felt like time went in seconds, long seconds that you wished to take back and at the same time to move faster. It wasn't easy, it didn't feel easy, and the hole in your heart was unmistakable. You weren't a person who liked change, nor a person who easily understood what was going on around you.

Sure when Kara came into the family, it was like the missing piece. It didn't take you long to warm up to the blonde, but she was suffering from the loss of her planet so you stayed behind the doors and waited the right moment to comfort her and make her as welcome as you could. You saw her hesitate when she was doing something that would make her happy, you saw her doubt herself as Superman came into the news, you saw her shed tears when she tried to find where Krypto would be.

You tried constantly to win her affection, her trust, her intelligence, and more but you couldn't make her happy if she didn't heal. So you stayed awake during the night waiting to comfort her, you played with melodies on the piano so she could have a similar bed song as she had in Krypto, you ran as fast as you could after school to help her with her English or to watch and sing along with Wizard of Oz. You keep trying and trying even though she was legally your sister, you wanted to have a connection with her just like you did with Alex. So when the blonde the morning of your birthday hugged you and in English told you, you were her sister and she could be prouder than to call you that, you shredded in tears hugging her closely.

But it was different, everything was different, it felt different, it sounded different, it even tastes different. There was a silence between your family, Alex kept her feelings inside and bottle them in trying so hard not to break, mad at the world, mad at dad, at you, at your mom, even Kara. Your mom was understanding but quiet, she tried to be your and your sister's rock during the day but at night you can hear her crying her heart out. Kara kept silent, mad at the world for taking another person from her, holding you close trying to be helpful as much as she could even if she was hurting as much as she was when she first landed. And you, you kept quiet, trying to understand, trying to find the lie, trying to reach and understand your feelings but couldn't. So you waited for the time to pass by and for things to get in order, just like your dad used to say ‘time heals things, everything gets better with time’ but as the words rounded your head you couldn't feel more than the biggest lie of the world.

Flashback ends

The soft wrap with alcohol against your knuckles ached as your mom determinately disinfected your hand. You felt her eyes constantly glancing at you when you kept silent, trying to ignore the slight throb from the small wound in your hand. You glanced from the wall you stared continuously into her eyes, before speaking. “I tried”

“I know sweetie” Eliza looked up while finishing wrapping her hand before speaking in a motherly tone. As soon as she heard you talk she knew, she knew what you meant. Just your silence gave it away, she knew your conflicted feelings weren't going to help now and they didn't before, but what scared her was how long you were going to take to heal, to flash a familiar smile, to laugh until you couldn't anymore, to look at the eyes of your significant other, to sign with your older sisters until either of your throats wouldn't give more.

Fighting back the tears your eyes had swollen, you claimed again making eye contact with your mother, your mother's eyes redating with comfort and sadness as she looked at you. You clenched your hand into a fist but immediately opened it again when you felt the strong throb in your knuckles. “I tried, and it didn't work out. It didn't do anything”

“Healing isn't about not feeling sad or feeling numb, it's about letting in, letting go, and finding yourself again but you can't do it if you are not ready for it” She answered brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

And the understanding in her eyes and voice made you doubt, as your feelings started to fall in place. Heartache, anger, sadness, disappointment, pain, and more began to feel your chest and your mind as you took the words of your mother in. Your now bloodshot eyes looked away from her as you felt your lip tremble.

You nodded quietly, and before you knew. You threw your arms around your blonde mother, tears furiously leaving your eyes as she soothed you, with comforting and reassuring words. Your head was hidden in her neck as you cried your eyes out.

The feeling of heartbreak and pain overwhelming you as everything started to come down on you. And you wanted to cry, for minutes, for hours, days, weeks, even years. Because somehow after everything you still didn't feel enough, you felt everything you did was wrong, that you could have been better and you could have changed differently, closing your eyes you wished for it to be gone, but deep down you knew it wasn't.

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

Flashback - February 2005

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

You don't know how it happened or how long you had been furiously crying until you stared at the small seashells in the sand getting wet thanks to your tears. The once beige shell now was white. Grabbing the seashells from the sand, you started to throw them angrily at the water.

The sound of the rock making contact with the water somewhat comforted you, longing to throw everything away for it, for the broken shells to absorb your problems and leave with it. Soon enough you fell to your knees sobbing out. As the night lighting shot in the ocean, as the ocean tide had gone up, the once breeze became violent air.

One second you were crying furiously on your own, and the next you sobbed into your mother's arms, as she reassured you that everything was going to be okay. You gripped her shirt hugging her closely before looking up to her, touching your chest as your bloodshot eyes glanced in hers.

Your lip trembling from the cold and your sobs, her heart broke, even more, when you hid in her neck which made her look up as she soothed your back. She was trying so hard to keep it together for you and your sisters but the moment she caught sight of Kara and Alex with blankets around themselves walking straight to where the two of you sat, made her break into tears.

You looked up from your mother's neck as you felt a hand rubbing your back and others grabbing your hand softly in reassurance. Each one of them by you and your mother's side, your cries had slowed down when your redhead sister asked with a crack in her voice to your mother. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, we will be but it will take time to heal, we can't rush it, we have to be ready”

“We are going to be okay” Kara claimed as a statement of reassurance after your mother responded, but her trembling lip, bloodshot eyes, and the high tone she used made her sound more like a prayer than anything.

Your mother reassured, making you three nod slowly before falling into a reassuring silence. “Until then we have each other, and one of the most precious things you girls are going to have in your life is each other, your family.”

Flashback ends

Unknowingly to you, your sisters had been watching from the door the moment Kara heard your heart spike. Tears in their eyes as they watched your mother rocked you slowly as you cried. Silent sobs and bitten lips coming from them as they stopped each other from walking into the room.

Alex kept her jaw clenched as her hands gripped each other hard as she tried to keep the tears inside. The redhead felt responsible for your crying, the urge to run in and comfort you debating her self-control. Doubts, questions, and more gained in her head as she saw you sob into your mother's arms, rage slowly consuming her emotions as the protectiveness over you began to show up.

Kara let out silent sobs, with her hand on top of her mouth. Her bloodshot eyes and red cheeks had overwhelming tears. The superheroine hated herself, as she felt responsible for your crying. She just wanted to hold you in her arms and tell you everything was going to be just fine, she wanted to see your sunny smile when you saw her or the bad jokes and puns you used all the time, she wanted you, she wanted her little sister but a part of her told her you needed the same space she once received from you.

The two of them standing next to each other with broken hearts and tears in their eyes, a small sense of hope in their chest as they watched the scene. Sharing a knowing, Alex came closer putting her arm around your blonde sister’s shoulder before speaking.

“Everything is gonna be okay, we are getting her back, I promise,” She said quietly reassuring Kara even when neither of them fully believe it.

#kara danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl imagine #alex danvers x reader #baby danvers

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 32

Happy Halloween to everyone! I hope that you enjoy this treat. Sorry this took so long to write out. This one took a few rewrites to get it where I wanted it to be.

Plus, Real life stuff got in the way So hopefully this will be a nice little treat for you all.

(Master Post)

__________________________________________________________________

Marinette watched in horror as she watched her best friend struggle on the floor.

She dashed to her side, and tried to help Alya get that weird mask off her face.

“By all means go right ahead. Its already too late.” Masquerade laughed as she watched Marinette struggle. “Soon enough she will be helping me take you down.”

The designer pushed the words of the psychotic akuma out of her mind. She refused to let her friend get turned into a mindless drone like before.

“It wont come off!” Marinette grunted as she tried so hard to remove it.

Masquerade watched her bracelet, waiting for a change to occur.

Alya’s muffled screams and frantic movements stopped.

“Alya?”

Marinette jumped up as she watched her friend transform, her casual clothes transformed into a familiar black and white costume. The Wi-Fi symbol on her chest. Lady Wifi has returned.

Masquerade’s bracelet gained a new charm, one looking reminiscent of a cell phone.

“And now she is my friend.” The villain stated as she watched Marinette start stepping away from the enslaved akuma.

“Alya… you need to fight it. You can’t let her control you.”

“Sorry Marinette, but Alya is unable to answer.” Masquerade mocked. “But I can take a message for you.”

Lady wifi stood silent, like an inactive robot, awaiting orders from its master. The inner machinations of the mind are not shown with the emotionless white mask covering her face.

Marinette turned her eyes toward the mask themed akuma, anger burning in her pupils.

“Let her go Lila. Let them all go before things get serious. Your plan will fail, Ladybug and Chat noir will arrive and beat the akuma out of you. Then you will have to answer for this too.”

Masquerade’s smile faded when she saw the fierce look. Marinette was not a sniveling mess, she actually looked even more defiant then before!

“Acting all high and mighty. I think I will enjoy turning you into my helpless puppet next.”

Masquerade lifted her hand towards Marinette, waiting to unmask her deepest secrets, and break her down.

“When I get a peek at what is hiding behind all of that fake courage, it will all come crashing down. Now let’s see your greatest secrets.”

Marinette looked around, trying to think of something. If Lila figured out her big secret, it was over. Ladybug would be exposed. She needed a way out, until she noticed something. Masquerade wasn’t doing anything.

“Huh?”

Marinette was perplexed by the akuma simply standing there.

“Ummm... are you going to do it now or...”

“Why can’t I see your secrets? My powers should allow me to see what you’re hiding and allow me to exploit it. It worked on everyone else I used it on, why not you?”

“Maybe I just don’t have any secrets to hide.” Marinette commented, watching with a bit of satisfaction as the akuma’s smug look shift.

Masquerade felt her frustration and anger boil at the comment. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Hawkmoth!” She cried out in rage.

A purple butterfly outline popped out.

“What is it?” The dark voice connected in her head.

“Why can’t I read Marinette’s secrets?” Masquerade angrily questioned.

“What?”

“Her secrets! I was able to zero in on everyone else I’ve used the ability on. Why does it not work on her!? Of all people I want this power to work on!”

Marinette felt both concerned and a bit flattered that she was the one Lila wanted to defeat the most. It was sort of mutual.

“Your power works on anyone I’ve akumatized, regardless of who it is.” The butterfly villain communicated.

“So… your saying you didn’t akumatize her before? How is that possible?”

“I haven’t gotten to every single person in Paris.”

“You’ve akumatized that stupid pigeon man 26 times! How have you not gotten everyone!?”

“Paris is a big city, even if I akumatized someone every day, I doubt I would have hit 1/10th of the population. Besides, it takes strong negative emotions for me to send out an akuma. And that man seems to just be the easiest target for it. “ Hawkmoth defended himself. “Its not like I WANT to akumatize him every other day.”

“Unbelievable!”

“Just get the miraculous. That is your focus, the girl can wait for later.”

Masquerade’s butterfly outline dispelled as hawkmoth was finished with that conversation.

“Well that sucks. I guess I can just go back to plan A. Having you watch as I turn everyone against you... aren't here. What!”

Masquerade frantically looked around for the teen she had been antagonizing and found that she was no longer in the same spot. In fact, she was no longer in the office!

Marinette had decided to slip away from the akuma while she was having her little tantrum to the evil butterfly man.

“Why didn't you do something!” She shouted at Lady Wifi.

“You did not give me an order.” Lady Wifi answered robotically.

Masquerade glared at the akuma servant. She would almost think it was rebelling against her.

“Even as a mindless servant you still find a way to ruin things.”

She looked around and noticed the other akuma in the room that was still on the floor.

“Dark Owl get up!”

The owl themed akuma got up from the floor. Removing parts of the broken pot from his costume.

Masquerade snapped her fingers. Catching the attention of Dark Owl and Lady Wifi.

“Both of you, I want Marinette brought back to me right now! I want to make sure she stays quiet and sees everything we have set up. I don’t need her causing trouble.”

______________________________________________________________________

“…and that is everything.” A young woman said with a mixture of relief and excitement. She had finally finished setting everything up in the school infirmary. She had organized the files, restocked the bandages, changed the sheets on the resting cots, and put her personal decals on the desk. She was starting her first day as the school nurse, and things have been going up.

She put herself back out there and started dating Curtis, the sweet guy she met last week despite what would’ve normally been a deal breaking misunderstanding, she got into the med school program she wanted to get into and will be attending part time, and she managed to get a job at the school she went to when she went to Lycee.

She heard a ding from the front of the nurse’s office just as she was about to sit down.

“First student of the day. I better see what they need.”

She exited the small office area in the infirmary to see a blonde student who was clearly impatient

“What is taking so long!?” The teen shouted.

“Hello there. How can I help you?”

The blonde looked up a bit to see the nurses smile, she rolled her eyes.

“Who the hell are you? Isnt there supposed to be a different woman here?”

“If you are referring to the previous school nurse, she retired officially last week. I am the new school nurse. You can call me Nurse Angela.”

Angela never really liked using her last name, it made her sound old. So, she would be fine with the kids calling by her first name. It also helps with psychology, allowing more for a social dynamic based on mutual respect rather than authority.

“Whatever.”

Angela felt a twinge of frustration at the girl’s dismissal. But she kept her smile.

“And you are?”

The teen smirked.

“Chloé Bourgeous. And before you ask, yes, the daughter of the mayor.”

Angela felt a shiver go down her spine. She remembered from what the previous nurse told her. That Chloé was the mayor’s bratty daughter who would use her father’s influence to get anyone fired if she got angry enough.

‘That at least explains her rude attitude. She is a spoiled Brat.’

Angela was not going to let this bother her. She was going to take it in stride. She would be kind and courteous as she planned to be with any student at the Dupont.

“So, Chloé. What brings you here?”

Chloé walks in.

“My chair broke because someone sabotaged my chair. I ended up bruising my… anyway I need some ice, and anything to numb the pain.”

“My goodness! That sounds terrible. Who would do such a thing?”

“It was probably Marinette, that nasty little rat. Adding insult to injury now that she is dating Adrien.”

Nurse Angela moved to get some ice from the freezer for the bruised bottom of the Mayor’s daughter, listening to the girl vent. She was sure that whoever this Marinette girl was, probably didn’t do it. And if somehow, she did, it was likely because the annoying blonde deserved it. But that was not something Angela felt was worth mentioning. She kept that bit to herself.

“She is probably blackmailing my adrikins with something. There is no way he would be dating her without some sort of reason.”

“Is it possible that maybe he just likes her?” Angela inquired as she presented the bag of ice to Chloé.

Chloé looked at the nurse as if she had just told her that she had 3 eyes and a scorpion tail.

“Adrien liking Marinette?! That is ridiculous, Utterly ridiculous! There is no way that Adrien would…”

Chloé felt her mind flash through moments. Adrien and Marinette about to kiss for that movie, Adrien and Marinette dancing at her party? The photos she found of them running from fans, that kiss at the picnic during heroes’ day. Adrien taking Marinette to that interview instead of her… The stubborn blonde felt as if everything clicked into place.

“Chloé? Is everything okay?” The nurse called out, trying to get the spaced-out teen’s attention.

“He might actually LIKE her!”

Chloé felt her own skin crawl as she made her realization.

Angela didn’t know how to respond to this situation.

“I am going to straighten Adrien out right now! I am not going to let him make such a foolish mistake!”

The nurse could tell this could be bad if the mayor’s daughter was so heated, what if she got this innocent girl expelled? If she stood by and did nothing then her time at the school would be internally marked with the regret of not stopping such a potential disaster.

“Wait, Miss Bourgeois.”

Chloé stopped.

“What is it?”

“I… I just noticed that you’re limping. The injury might be more serious than you think. Let me have a look at it closer before you leave.”

The mayor’s daughter would simply have left without a second thought. But having a limp would make her walk much less dignified and lacking the power she needs to intimidate, but mainly that she would look lame with a limp.

“Alright, just make it quick.”

______________________________________________________________________________

“I don’t get why you felt the need to leave.” The cat kwami rolled his eyes. “If you want to be rebellious Adrien, we could leave the school and head to the movies. Though if we do, you should invite your girlfriend.”

“Plagg, this isn’t about rebellion or future date ideas. Something isn’t right with this whole situation. I just want to sneak a peek in the office, make sure Marinette and Alya get their story out, and then I am headed right back to class. No problem.” Adrien summarized as they kept walking.

Plagg noticed someone headed their way and went to hide in Adrien’s pocket.

Adrien took notice that it was his homeroom teacher. Perhaps he could ask her.

“Hey Ms.Bustier. Can I ask you a quick question?”

The red headed teacher walked past the teen without acknowledging his question. Her eyes focused on what was ahead.

“That’s weird… She would always stop to help a student.”

Adrien could feel that his favorite teacher may have been affected by something sinister.

“Ms.Bustier, can you hear me out for a second?” He asked as he touched her shoulder to try and get her attention.

The mirage of her appearance shifted from the homeroom teacher to the stylized patchwork costume of a familiar akuma enemy.

Adrien was surprised to see the true form of the imposter. The kiss zombie maker, Zombizou.

The akuma turned to show the face mask that hid her face. Her attention was now firmly on the boy, whether he wanted it or not.

Adrien backed away, nervously keeping his eyes on the teacher as he carefully backed up.

“You know, I think I will just ask someone else.”

Adrien took down the next hall running.

______________________________________________________________________

Masquerade reclined in her chair, her frustration was growing as she wondered what was taking those two minions she sent out to capture Marinette so long.

“They shouldn’t be having that much difficulty. She is just one person!”

She heard a ring, and knew her sentimonster was trying to contact her.

“What is it Simulare?”

“The illusion I had on Zombizou was broken. Someone is on to us, and the minion is in pursuit.”

Masquerade felt a headache forming. She didn’t have time for a wild goose chase. She needed to move on to phase two of her plan, making her army of akuma.

“Track down Marinette and this other person that found out about Zombizou, keep them busy as long as possible. I am going to move on to phase two. Make sure no one is on to us.”

“Understood. I’ll get them back in the office and make sure neither of them escape.”

“Good”

Masquerade ended the call and felt her head ease a bit. The sentimonster she was given was obedient and competent. It was based on her mindset, so it would make sense that it would be capable of handling this problem.

“Now, let’s get that army.”

______________________________________________________________________________

“Give me a break.” Marinette muttered to herself.

She thought she would have time to transform once she escaped the office, but the two akuma were right out of the office before she had time to make sure everything was clear.

In her rush she cut a corner down a hallway and ended up colliding with another person.

“Ouch.” They cry out in unison, both looking to realize who they bumped into. Their faces turned to relief.

“Marinette!” “Adrien!”

The two called out in unison.

“Why are you running?” “Why are you running?”

“An akuma!” “An akuma!”

“An akuma?” “An akuma?”

They both look behind the other to notice the incoming akumas approaching them.

“As cute as this is, we need to go.”

Adrien Grabs Marinette’s Hand and they both head to the open area and try to get to the main entrance.

‘I need to get Adrien somewhere safe, then I can go transform into Ladybug.’ Marinette thought to herself, unaware that Adrien was thinking the same thing.

They make quick movements down hallway, moving up and down staircases to confuse their pursuers. They managed to give them the slip as the controlled akuma seemed to not be able of basic reasoning and quick fake outs and movements.

The two make their way down to what appeared to be the front of the school.

“The entrance!” Marinette called out. “Okay, we split up at the entrance and try to get help. They can’t catch us both.”

The run to the entrance only for them to stop short, colliding with some invisible wall.

It was only after making contact did the front entrance of the school shift back into a wall. The layout of the entire school seemed to shift instantly. The school had been put under an illusion to trick them into thinking they were escaping.

“It’s an illusion. Which means Lila must be involved with that group of akumas.” Adrien exclaimed.

“More like she is the cause. She is the one controlling the akumatized mask wearers. She got the Principal and Alya.”

“Wait, does this mean that Lila’s power is to make akuma!?”

“From what I saw, she can only akumatize people that have been akumatized before using her face masks. You haven’t been akumatized right?” Marinette questioned.

“No, and since she didn't get you, you haven't either right?”

“Yea, though I have had a few close calls.”

“So, if Lila’s power is akumatizing people, what akuma made this illusion on the school?”

“That would be me.” A third voice calls out.

The two turned to look and see a familiar fox themed villain smiling confidently.

“Volpina!”

“Not exactly.”

The Volpina impersonator looked around to see if the other akumatized servents were going to arrive.

“Seems you both are quite clever when it comes to annoying Mistress Masquerade.”

“Masquerade?”

“That’s what Lila’s calling herself.”

“Oh... cause of the masks.”

The villain rolls her eyes, encapsulating the personality of the arrogant volpina that it was pretending to be.

“Masquerade realizes that you two are both quite difficult to snag with mindless servants, so she requested I handle this.”

“No, you won’t.” Marinette grabs Adrien’s Hand and tries to run away only for the Faux Fox to flip in front of them

“Yea, I am not letting you out of my sight. Now be good and come along peacefully.”

Adrien moves in front of Marinette.

“Go, I’ll hold her off.”

“But…”

“Go. I trust you.” Adrien smiles as he looks to her for a moment.

Marinette wanted to stay and fight with him, but she knew that she needed to go and transform. Ladybug will be needed before this blows up.

“I’ll get help.”

Marinette runs away from the two as fast as she can. Adrien making sure to block the way should their foe get any ideas.

“She won’t get far, she will get captured before she even gets a chance.”

Adrien shook his head.

“You would be surprised with how just how amazing Marinette is.”

Marinette rushed out of sight and into the closest bathroom, quickly making sure it was a safe place to transform.

“Coast is clear. Time for Ladybug to step in.”

“Let’s hope we can get to Adrien in time before things get worse.” Tikki commented.

“Don't worry, I trust he’ll be okay. Tikki! Spots on!”

______________________________________________________________________________

“Can you believe it Juleka?” The peppy perfume enthusiast squealed. “Marinette and Adrien are finally an item.”

“Yes, I was there rose.” Juleka commented with an eye roll and a smile.

“I know! I am just so happy for them both.” Rose calms herself a bit. “Though… how will your brother take it?”

The purple haired teen reflected on the comment.

“It will be an adjustment, but I am sure Lulu will be fine once he gets a couple songs out of it.”

“I’ll be sure to be supportive.”

Juleka patted Rose’s head, smiling sweetly at the blonde’s caring attitude. She decided now would be a good time to spring that surprise on her. She was planning on showing her during lunch, but since Ms.Bustier wasn’t in class. Now would be the perfect time to show Rose the earrings she got her.

She casually reached into her bag, sliding her hand into her lunch bag, trying to find the earring box, only to notice it not there. Her hand moved frantically searching.

“Is something wrong?” Rose inquired, a bit of concern on her face.

“No, nothing. Nothing is wrong, just…” Juleka dismissed as she kept searching only to know for certain that her gift was not in there.

“Are you sure?”

“I just need do something really quick.”

She quickly grabbed her phone and calmly while hoping that her brother would see her text.

In her quick movement, she failed to notice the door of the classroom opening.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Psst, Luka. Luka!” A dark-haired teen whispered, trying to get the attention of the teal-tipped hair guitarist that was hiding his sleeping face with an open science book.”

“Hmm?” The tired teen responded with his eyes still closed. He was barely awake. He had been up all night working on that new song that was stuck in his head. He could still hear it playing in his thoughts as he tried to shake himself awake.

“Your phone vibrated, seemed important.”

“Oh, thanks Theo.” He moved his hand to take a look at his phone.

The science teacher was rambling on about molecules or something, clearly unaware of how disinterested everyone in the class was with his boring lecture.

Luka looked through to see a few text messages from his sister.

‘Hey, can you check your lunch to see if there is a jewelry box in there? Rose’s gift is in there.’

‘If you find it, can you swing by around your free period to bring it to me?’

Luka quickly snuck his hand into his backpack and sure enough he felt the small box. He was about to text a response. But stopped when he read the last two texts.

‘Sh*t there is an akuma in the class!’

Luka’s eyes shot open, his sister was in danger. Which also meant his band was also in danger. He needed to get there.

He shot up from his chair. And started making his way to the door.

“Mr.Couffaine, where do you think you’re going?”

“Family emergency.”

The science teacher was about to tell the young boy to wait until his parent calls, but he remembered who is mother was and what she did the last time he held up her kid when Anarke wanted to pick him up early. The teacher proceeded to held back his response.

“Proceed. Just be sure to get the notes from today’s lesson.”

Luka was out the door before the teacher could finish.

______________________________________________________________________

A car speeds down the road, the driver cursing to herself as she tries to move faster.

‘Get in, get Adrien, and get out before everything hits the fan.’

Nathalie mentally repeated to herself. She knows that pushing herself too hard was also dangerous. She couldn't risk feeling weak right now.

The driver slammed the break as she arrived at the school. She needed to hurry. She parked the car and opened the door.

“Lets hope that this akuma hasn't gotten to Adrien yet.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Ms. Bustier’s class had diverted all their attention to the costumed individual in the front of the classroom. The eerie masks that adorned her costume seemed to unsettle everyone.

Juleka put her phone away and joined in on what everyone was staring at

Alix was the one to say what was on everyone’s mind.

“Who the f*** are you?”

The akuma smirked.

“Excellent, a volunteer.”

Raising her hand and pointing towards Alix, her charm bracelet began to glow.

“Interesting, seems that you have quite a soft spot for cute things.”

The class turned to look at Alix with confusion.

Alix kept her cool.

“And? Is there a point?” Alix rolled her eyes, ignoring the akuma’s attempt to get under her skin. It would take more than that to actually do anything to her.

“You pretend you have this ‘Devil may care’ attitude, that you are too cool to care about what people think, but really you are more obsessed with how people perceive you than anyone else in here.”

Alix felt her smirk falter for a second.

“You are really sensitive about your height and anytime someone brings it up you are in a bad mood for the rest of the day. But what really gets to you is your ‘Family’. You hate how your brother is a laughing stock because of his crackpot theories and your greatest fear is that no matter how much you try to be this punk rebel, you will always be cast as ‘The Conspiracy nut’s sister’.”

“Shut up! You don’t know my life!” Alix yelled.

“Not so fun getting exposed, is it?”

The class realized immediately who this mysterious akuma was.

Masquerade smiled as she flung a mask right at the pink haired teen. Causing her to fall down. And struggle to get the mask off, but before anyone could help her. It was too late.

The class could only watch in horror as their classmate transformed into their Akuma persona. Before standing up.

The class tried to make a break for it. They knew full well the dangers of this new akuma.

“Timebreaker, guard the door.”

The akuma skated to the door and everyone jumped back. They knew that touching Timebreaker was not a good idea.

“Lila, this isn’t cool. Let Alix go.” Nino called out.

The Mask akuma shook her head.

“Lila is not a thing anymore. She was unmasked and dismissed. But now I have a new mask, I’m Masquerade. Soon enough, you will all be unmasked and given a new mask that better suits you. Alya knows that very well.”

Nino’s his eyes flared at the statement.

“What did you do to my girl?”

Masquerade pointed her hand at him just as her charm bracelet glowed, now with a rollerblade charm added to it.

“The same thing I am about to do to all of you.”

______________________________________________________________________

Will the rest of the class fall victim to Masquerade’s evil plan? Will Ladybug be able to save Adrien from the Sentimonster? Will Nathalie get to Adrien before its too late? Will I ever update consistently?

Fine out all these questions and more in the next part.

Thank you all for reading the most recent addition to Soulmate Survey.

Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and if you really liked it. Reblog it. (Sharing is the only way my story actually gets out.) Plus, tagging has been kind of glitchy for me, so until that gets straightened out, I can't tag people for the story at the moment.

#ml #soulmate survey #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanficiton #ml au #ss #miraculous #masquerade akuma #masquerade #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lady wifi #lila rossi #ladybug #tikki #plagg #adrinette #lovesquare

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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Professor Cavill, Sir

Summary: Professor Cavill keeps giving you failing grades on your assignments even though you are 100% certain you are a brilliant student. You decide to march down to his office and confront him.

Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Abuse of power, MaleDom / FemSub, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie. (Basically all the good stuff)

A/N: While composing this post, I noticed I passed my 1500 followers. So first and foremost, THANK YOU, thank you for following, believing in me and sending me DMs. You are just as important to me. I’ll probably write a more emotional thank you post tonight. But just had to say something now 🥺

Thanks the anon who made this prompt request! And thanks @agniavateira for being my beta and muse.

I also recommend reading @ladyreapermc astonishing professor Cavil stories!!!

Title: Professor Cavil, Sir

You know you are a good student, you’re brilliant, even smarter than the airheads who harbour the classroom. Yet, Professor Cavill seems to have some sort of beef with you. He marches around the classroom, giving you cold stares and your grades are constantly dropping with each assignment you hand over.

Fine, he is beyond handsome and all the girls are soaked for him but damn, you hate this man with passion and you’ve had it. You wait one afternoon when the halls of the academy are nearly empty so you can march into his office and tell him exactly what you think.

You play the scenario in your mind for hours. You know exactly what you are going to say and how but the moment you barge into his office, your words melt into an incoherent cluster of yelling that don’t make much sense by the look on Professor Cavill’s face.

“I am a smart woman!!! You... you... you have no right!!!”

The professor crooks his right eyebrow, peering at you from an assignment he is browsing through. He seems unimpressed by your dramatic entrance, putting the paper on his desk and then finally gesturing for you to sit at his desk.

Heaving from the anxiety that’s about to burst your heart, you shut the door and take two strides to sit in front of him, feeling the blush burn from your cheeks down to your chest. It takes less than a minute for you to conclude that you are a meek, little fly that walked straight into the web of a big, hungry spider.

Henry laces his hands together, elbows resting on the wooden desk and his eyes seeking yours with a grin, which in your rage you only interpret as arrogance.

“Yes, you’re smart. You are the most brilliant student in my class.” he compliments, which does nothing but make the rush of blood escalate and flow ecstatically to your nether regions.

“But you don’t see much.”

You give a sheepish stare, feeling your ears burn in embarrassment as he gets up from his chair and shifts to half-sit on the corner of the desk, blocking your only way out. Somehow, the only thing that goes through your head is “fuck me”.

These words nearly roll on your tongue as you open your mouth, staring at professor Cavill’s god-like face.

“I...”

“Am I wrong?” he asks you, his fingers reaching beneath your chin, the soft pads of his tips bumping it up so your gaze will entwine.

“Tell me, do you wish to leave?”

“No,” you hear your own voice tremble as you answer.

A deep crease appears at his cheek as his lips stretch into a slanted smirk. His fingers leave your chin to remove his glasses and lay them on the desk. His eyes shine at you, glistening with lust. “What do you want then?”

Your lips part, heart beating through your throat. The tendon at your neck twitches, sure that he can see it too.

“I want you to fuck me on your desk.”

Henry’s icy glare travels upon the outlines of your face, studying each freckle carefully. No words come out from the man who speaks so greatly, his cold silence challenging, tiny sparks of panic waking at the back of your head.

What have I done?! Have I misunderstood his intentions? Was this just all happening in my mind?

You swallow the dry lump in your throat, about to open your mouth to a gush of apologies when Henry’s large palm lifts to ghost above your jaw. His thumb meets the plumpness of your lips and tugs at your bottom lip to dampen the pad of his finger.

"Such a dirty mouth you’ve got there,” he comments. His velvety British accent sends tremors to the walls of your beating core. The slightest of touch makes your panties embarrassingly moist, viscid against the petals of your womanhood. Shifting in the chair uncomfortably, the black knife-pleated skirt ascends and exposes the silkiness of your legs. Much of a treat to his famished icicles.

Saturated dreams of Professor Cavill kept you sweaty in the middle of the night, as any of the women attending his course. It wasn’t just his thick dark hair that curled at the edge and the criminally-sculpted cheekbones, nor was it that broad structure hidden underneath a buttoned-down blue shirt. It was his confidence, his stark charisma. Passion shimmered in his eyes when he spoke about wars throughout history and razed enemy cities.

Damn if you didn’t want him to destroy yours.

“Spread your legs, let me see you.” he demands, his voice deepening along with the shade of his gaze. No thoughts of protest come to mind. You obey, surrendering every will to his demand, thighs pressed open to each side of the wooden office chair.

Henry’s index finger rims your mouth from east to west, toying the red pillows of your lips and sliding the tip inside to flirt with your whispering tongue.

“Now, roll your panties down your knees.”

Cold shivers run through the sinew of your muscles like an electric current, making you spasm on the chair, unhidden from Henry’s satisfaction. He scoffs at your behavior, a small grin painting his chiseled jaw. You’re behaving like a virgin, all doe eyes and trembling knees. You’re certain he finds you pathetic to the point of humor.

“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you like a bad one.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers onto the elastic band of your panties and slowly pull them down to your knees. The cold air of the room hits the exposed groove of your body and you hiss at the sensation, throbbing with excitement and fright.

The bulge in Henry’s trousers appears to be threateningly large, the outlines of his cock winking toward your desirable image. You nearly bite his fingertip as your mind sinks into momentary fantasies of how specifically large his cock is beneath those cream-colored trousers.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t glanced at that region of his groin during his classes once or twice.

Henry reaches his free hand to lift your skirt and peek at your mound, his tongue flicking over the freckle of his bottom lips as he finds you sleek with arousal. The wooden surface is damp with your sweat and the smooth elixir of your cunt.

It makes him smile in a way that nearly makes you feel ashamed.

“Suck,” he orders and his fingers enter your mouth before you even choose to question. Shoving deep to challenge your devotion to him. Your tongue laps around skin and bone, cheeks hollowing out instinctively as you coat him with your saliva and hum at the sensation of having him in your mouth.

A low growl forms in the pit of his chest, loud enough to vibrate at your reddening ears. He is impressed by how submissive you are to his wanton, completely opposite to the way you’ve rudely barged into his office. When you woke up this morning you had every intention of showing him how little you think of him and his grades, and yet here you are, dripping on his chair like some shameless slut.

This is a dangerous ground; you’re treading on thin ice, but there is no will power strong enough to stop you.

From the moment you walked into this room, you were already his.

“Such a good girl.”

His fingers slide out of your mouth, glistening with your spit in the warm lighting of his cozy office. With shallow breathing and quivering lips, your fists grip the edge of the chair with fear while his fingers descend and disappear beneath your skirt.

A lingering gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers spread open your folds. Probing inside almost clinically, as a thing to be toyed with. His fingers push knuckle deep, exploring the warmth of your soaking pit and grinding in slightly to elicit pathetic little moans from your throat.

“You know how much I’ve longed for this?”

His thick baritone sends shivers down your neck as he leans closer to half-whisper against your ear. Small whimpers escape from your lips in response.

Henry slips even deeper, thumb ghosting over your yearning clit, mimicking phantom circles in the air in order to torture you. Begging, you attempt to push forward and grind at his fingers for more friction but you are answered with the scolding tick of his tongue.

“You’ll come when I say so.”

“Professor Hen…”

A pained hiss shudders through you, tiny creases forming at the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly due to the pain that stings your scalp. Henry’s fist closes over your hair, tugging your head back to punish your disobedience.

Deep in the cells which survey logic in your mind you know you shouldn’t like this.However, your body tells a different tale: skin tingling, slit clenching around his fingers just from the rush of fear.

“I can’t wait to feel your sweet little pussy around my cock,” he murmurs in a husky voice, his fingers pumping slightly, curling within your succulent cavern to learn each of your vocal reactions. You are spasming around him as inch by inch he seeks inside you, obsessed with desire to find that one spot that will reduce you to nothing but a boneless being.

“Aww…” he coos at your teetering yips, his lips perched into a mocking pout as he sees the begging in your big, aching eyes. Holding the natural need of your body hurts, like molten fire, all pent-up inside. You can feel it coursing through each organ of your body, intensified by the hard shoves of his fingers. You’re nearly lifted from your seat by the force of his thrusts.

“You want to come, my sweet darling?”

“Please, Sir!” for a moment there you thought you were asking, but what comes out of your mouth is nothing but a humiliating whine. Aching inside, your fists numb over, your shaking legs get drenched with sweat as his hairy arm constantly strokes between your knees. Impassioned, he pumps into you back and forth, thrilled by the way you melt around his fingers as his tips tickle your most sacred pleats.

“You can come, sweetheart.”

The room goes black for a few seconds as pleasure takes the reins, railing you toward your orgasm with incredible force. A cluster of cries drains from your mouth. You’ve never had anyone deny your pleasure, not like this. The pain was harrowing yet the payoff makes you reach stars, your state of paradise was prolonged and for a moment, you float on air.

“Good girl.” Henry growls praises at you, his fingers sliding outside your convulsing cunt and slipping into his own mouth as he suckles on your honey. He lets out a hum, his tongue lapping over his fingertips while his eyes pierce into yours.

Still catching on your breath, you look at the professor, his face glowing as the sunset beams through the window, coloring his criminally beautiful face in gold and amber hues. There is a murmur dancing in your heart, still not believing that this man, who you spent lonely nights pining for, is about to put himself inside you.

Grasping your waist, Henry collects you with surprising ease from the chair, sitting your ass on his desk so harshly the mahogany surface slaps your naked ass. His hands press your legs apart as he moves to stand between them. You see the flames of lust burning in his eyes, as tough and authoritative as he is. Yet his lower lip still twitches with a wisp, desire weakening his roots.

You dare to touch him, tracing the shape of his jaw, dipping your finger in the strong dimple of his chin. Aggravated, he snaps your hand away, forcing it flat against the desk. He then grabs your nape, pulling you into a rough kiss that takes whatever control that was left to you. His tongue invades your mouth, a tinge of strong macchiato and cinnamon tickling your senses as your mouths play with one another.

You hear the metal clasp and the brush of leather as he unbuckles his belt and your eyes immediately fall to his groin, eager to finally see him.

Fuck.

Struck, you break away from his punishing lips, gaping at the vastness of his meaty cock. You clench your thighs around his legs, heart flinching just from the sight of it, intimidated and even frightened by the thought of him spreading your insides. A dry chuckle leaves his throat and his hand reaches to grasp himself, tugging his own pink cock and then slapping it against your cunt. He relishes the hisses and wet sounds that are produced from your pussy.

“Afraid you can’t take it?”

“You’re huge.”

You chew on your lips and moan as he slides the base of his cock between your folds smoothly, patronizingly, coating himself with your thick juices back and forth with an incubus smirk. “You know how amazing is your body, darling?” he asks and slides just the tip of his erection inside before pulling out and stroking himself against the length of your swollen lips once again. Feeble and pitiful you mewl with desperation, slouching your shoulders back, frustrated.

You want to beg but words won’t even meet your tongue.

“How much your cunt can stretch…” his words fall short as he groans with awe once his thick cock enters the narrow corridors of your slit. Inch by inch he invades, spreading you open in an agonizing pace.

Inarticulate sounds birth in your throat as his cock sheaths into your cervix. You are raw and taut, flesh throbbing furiously around his girth that fills you just right. He is thick and pulsating, enclosed by quivering velvet walls.

“Shhh…” he presses a finger to his lips and then to yours as broken moans run through your mouth.

Nodding, you purse your lips, swallowing a whimper that’s as a result of your sex throbbing together with eagerness. Henry kisses your forehead as a praise and pulls back slowly, leaving nothing but the head of his shaft, creating a sad empty void before plunging back in, achingly slow to the rhythm of your gasps.

You are fucked, in every sense of the word. The large man has a majestic hold over you; your organs don’t belong to you anymore, even your breath feels borrowed as Henry begins to pound you over his desk with guttural grunts. His hands latch beneath your knees, ramming into you like an ardent machine, yet not with a lack of style. Every pound edges you across the border of heaven, keeping quiet is nearly impossible and every cry that escapes you is punished by a hard thrust.

Your palms sweat on his desk as you flatten them behind you, your panties dangling from your ankles. Henry controls everything to the very last drop of your lust, fucking into you, slapping your wet pussy like an angry train with passionate speed.

Henry strokes all the right spots inside you, his thickness causing a trillion little spasms to sway from your apex.

Incoherent musings run through your mind; you want him to take everything, fuck you like a slut and empty his cock into your willing womb. He reaches the deepest part inside you and the most insidious thoughts take over your soul as you come undone. Your body jitters with the explosion of stars, your cunt tremoring tightly around him, demanding his rich offerings.

“I’m on the pill!”

You call breathlessly, still teetering on the strands of rapture as he twitches inside you in eager response. Henry stares at you surprised, his mouth agape as if in disbelief. He drops his gaze to where you are connected, staring at his cock sinking into your cage of delights. With his fists cuffed around your needs he slams into you ferociously, his balls thudding against your cunt with zeal, swelling and growling with bliss until he empties all of him inside you.

“Fuck!” Henry grunts, attempting to catch his breath. His sweaty forehead rests onto yours, his lips hovering, trembling at your mouth. You let your shaky hands cradle his square face, fingertips collecting droplets of sweat and smearing it down the lines of his cheeks. The powerful man who just dominated you is nothing but a gentle giant, swaying into your soothing touch.

There is a mess on his desk as he shifts away. His thick semen spills from your pummeled hole and you see the twisted pride in his eyes. You reach to slip your panties on, your chest beating angrily as you struggle to breathe.

“I hope you are not just doing this for your grades,” he warns as he zips his trousers back and leans against his bookcase, staring at you while you make a futile effort to fix your messy appearance. Your underwear is soaked with him and you dread the thought of walking home stained, smelling like sex.

“I am not a whore.” you answer, a tinge of anger at your throat. You wonder for a second if you are the only one and your heart sinks with fear, your head feeling slightly dizzy. “And you just admitted to fixing my grades so you could get me in this position, that’s the kettle cal..”

“I never said you are.” he stops you, running a hand over his hair and fixing an errant curl at the top of his head. His fierce stare searches for something in your soul.

“I’d like to do this again.”

You blink at him wordlessly, trying to figure out what sort of fantasy you just stumbled into. Obviously, there is not a bone in your body that wants you to refuse as you glance at the man of your dreams, offering you a suggestive grin.

Then it finally strikes you. You just entered a dirty bad romance.

___________________________________________________

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#Henry Cavill #AU!Henry Cavill #Professor Cavill #Professor Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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067supremacy · 3 years

Text

Trigger warning: this entry features the reader being followed and grabbed at knifepoint. If this is something that will make you uncomfortable, then please don't read it!!!!

So, I wrote this about a month before Resident Evil Village came out. As you can probably tell as this includes ideas of my own; and missed out some obvious problems that now show after playing the game. It was fun to imagine what the character was like at the time, from what we had to go on! :’) (also, I originally wrote this for the blonde who was rumoured to be called Daniela, but Daniela doesn't get enough love!!)

Guardian-Angel

Living your life at night had become your new regular. Your girlfriend Daniela is unable to live her life during the day, and despite the hardships, it came with, you were more than happy to give up the daylight to be with the woman you love.

Living with a vampire had its ups and downs, but you wouldn't change her for a second. You had been something of a stabilizer for her. When you first met her, she was stuck in her crazy gothic look. She was deadly and bloodthirsty, but you had a way of calming her to a tranquil state. Daniela had two different looks that were determined by her mood. When Daniela was calm, she was a natural beauty. Her Red hair was long and healthy, she had clear skin, and her attitude was caring. But when she was upset, Daniela was utterly different. She was full of anger, covered in black from head to toe, the surrounding area of her mouth was covered in crimson red, her fangs would grow through frighteningly sharp, and wasps would manifest seemingly out of nowhere.

You knew the dangers of living with a vampire, but it didn't matter to you. You trusted Daniela with your life. The first time you slept in the same bed as her, you couldn't help but worry about the possibility of her biting you. Little did you know that she could sense your worry and had even decided to tease you about it by resting her face in the crook of your neck. Daniela was in love with you. And deep down, she feared that one day your time would come. After all, she would be here long after your demise. The conversation of turning you was something she had yet to do, but the thought was always there. She had come close plenty of times to ask you to be with her for life, but her idea of rejection led her to remain happy with what she had.

It had just gone 1 am when you left 7-Eleven in a hurry. The pitch-black sky was unnerving but relaxing at the same time. There was a lot to enjoy about the night-time. Like, how quiet the streets were, how empty the store was, and how the sleepy nightlife was stunning to look overhead. The stars lead you home as you silently walk by yourself, you curse at the fact you left your headphones at home, but at least you could enjoy the walk back.

The dim streetlights ahead offer little visibility, but they give you absolute comfort. You come to the end of the high street where fast-food restaurants end, and the streets get much darker. With no cars going by, it's hard to tell what's up ahead when you turn right into a second street in which should be a straight shot to your apartment. You notice a man traveling just a few steps behind you. You felt uneasy about it but pushed the thought to the back of your mind. You speed up slightly to put some distance between you. The way the world was nowadays, you couldn't trust this situation; it is sad but true.

You decide to do a full circle through an alleyway and back out to the street out of curiosity. Sure enough, the shadow figure follows your every move, and that's the last that you were going to play with this. You pull out your phone and call Daniela with shaky hands. The phone rings once, and the voice you love so much answers cheerfully, but you can't even remember what she said as you were blinded with panic.

"Dani, I think someone is following me," you say in a hushed tone as to not alert the shadow figure following you. Almost as quickly as you finished the sentence, you can hear the familiar sound of wasps manifesting in the background. There is no time to be wasted in Daniela's mind. You can already hear the change in her voice as she asks for your location.

It's like you can feel Daniela's heart aching at the thought of your discomfort, something inside you doesn't feel right when Daniela gets like this, and it's ultimately why she agreed to stay calm in all circumstances.

"Just keep walking home, baby. I'll come and meet you." Your vampire girlfriend replies as you hear the phone fall to the floor and the raging hive leaves the apartment. The sound goes quiet, and you're left with your thoughts, but not for long as the footsteps get closer and louder. You can feel the presence on your heels. Before you know it, a large hand had taken you by the arm and directed you into the closest alleyway.

You yelp at the tight grip on your arm, the groceries you had from shopping had been sent to the floor, but you clutched your purse for dear life. The shadow figure was around 5ft 10Inches tall. The person was stocky in build, rugged looking. They wore a black hoodie and a black balaclava. The only thing you could see was the person's eyes. They pierced through you, you couldn't tell if they held hostile intent or if they were just trying to scare you, but that didn't matter. The person pushes you to a corner and unsheathes a small blade.

A man's voice, deep and resonant, shoots out from his mouth. "I'm gonna need that purse and whatever jewelry you have on you," He waves the blade before your eyes, almost teasing you that he had the upper hand.

Your fears boil over as the tears start to stream, and you feel powerless. You fold your arms over your purse in an act of defiance. The man in front of you seems to be getting impatient already, but you manage to bumble out a small plead, "Please, just let me go," The man chuckles at your plea.

"Just give me your shit, and then you can go. I won't even hurt you," the man jokes dryly. At this point in time, the tables had turned, "You can go now, and you won't get hurt," you confidently claim. Your confidence comes from the single wasp that crawls up the sleeve of the man's hoodie, but the single wasp was soon joined by another one, and then two more.

"I'm not fucking playing around now, give me your th- "he's cut off by the sting of a wasp on his neck. The few on his hoodie fly to the end of the alleyway. A woman's laugh surrounds the area, an angry hive of wasps come together and begin to form the silhouette of a tall woman. Your woman.

The man takes a step back in fear, which gives you the chance to storm toward the love of your life. You smoothly run straight past the form of Daniela, something that the man tries to replicate, but the swarm of wasps begins to surround him. They trap him within a tunnel. You knew what this was and where it was going. Daniela was manifesting into her proper, vampire form.

"the man screams and thrashes around, attempting to swat the wasps away from him, but his attempts were futile. The manifestation of her form becomes complete when she pushes him to the floor. Her movement is quirky but calculated. The wasps cocoon the two in a small dome. Keeping him grounded, Daniela laughs at the man's terrified figure. She taunts him with her newfound power.

"She gave you a chance, oh darling, you should have listened to her." Daniela spits her venomous, spiteful tone at the robber. The man attempts to slash at Daniela, and he catches her with the tip of the blade, but her form sheds more of the wasps surrounding the two instead of blood. She laughs demonically as she picks him up with effortless strength. She shoves him against the wall and prepares to end him.

From behind her, you force your way through the hive and touch her shoulder, which has a visible effect on her. She lets her grip on his shoulder loosen slightly. You assure her that you were unharmed, which seems to sway her, but you can still feel her rage within you. You use the power that you hold over Daniela by commanding that she let him go. She's come too far in her time with you to collapse into her bloodthirsty stage again.

And so, she lets the man run, he quickly flees the scene looking like he had just seen a vampire....... Daniela carefully watches the man disappear into the night. The second he is gone, her walls break down, and her softer side comes back out. The crazy gothic vampire look is gone without a trace. Daniela pulls you into her and crushes you into a tight hug. She couldn't lose you. The thought broke her every emotion as she held you. You could hear her breath hitch as she let it all out. Daniela was crying on your shoulder in a dark alleyway at 1:30 am.

"I love you, Y/N. I can't lose you; it would destroy me. I need you safe. I need you alive." She continues to unload every emotion. You reciprocate everything. The massive hug is filled with love and passion. Before you break the hug, you lean into her ear and whisper, "I love you too, Dani. I'm not going anywhere; nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I have my Guardian-Angel protecting me,"

A/N

I'm planning on doing part two, where Daniela has the talk with the reader about turning them into a Vampire. P.S I absolutely love the idea of her being like a normal looking girl when she's calm, but you piss her off........ Game over.

#resident evil #resident evil village #daniela #daniela dimitrescu #re8 dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #daniela dimitrescu x reader #hero trope #lady dimitrescu #gaming #imagine

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