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silversatoru · 4 years ago

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Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have.

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you.

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern.

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge.

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed.

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse.

“That’s an order, cadet”.

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety.

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine. Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself.

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul.

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions.

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something?

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again.

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts.

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face.

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you.

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”.

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?”

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head.

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway.

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?”

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”.

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore.

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words.

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up.

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth.

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again.

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed.

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”.

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear.

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least.

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips.

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”.

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it.

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long.

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress.

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

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glimmerglanger · 4 years ago

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*casts sneaky vote in for Spicy September* only because of the alliteration and not cause it’s sooner I swear... also a prompt idea- role reversal, Padawan now Knight Kenobi abruptly figuring out his former Master is in love with him and taking action.

The dark, possessive role-swap AU won the vote last night to get posted today! (By a landslide). This prompt perhaps shifted the most as I was working on it. It is TECHNICALLY about recently knighted Obi-Wan, but their relationship started before that. Warnings for power imbalance, past/current (very) dubious consent, and Anakin just… being manipulative. Also, Obi-Wan is tipsy in this fic. Anakin is much darker than I usually write him, if that’s not what you’re looking for. Dead dove, do not eat, etc.

I also came up with far too extensive head-canons for the backstory in this, because it’s the first time I’ve really tried to write an Anakin over the age of thirty, you know? Trying to determine how he would grow and change after 10 more years of manipulation by Palpatine was a lot of fun (spoilers: it has not helped him), also imagining his relationship with Qui-Gon. (I stand by the idea that Anakin would have been a darker person in general if Qui-Gon had trained him).

SPICY, not safe for wizards (and other things starting with “w”), dirty talk, over stimulation, d/s vibes. PLEASE heed the warnings re: dubious (VERY) consent, power imbalances, etc. This is the longest note I have for any of the Spicy fics because it’s really the only one with warnings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan’s Knighting happened so quickly. It felt like one moment they were on Geonosis, fighting for their lives, and the next there was a war, they were back on Coruscant, and he was kneeling in front of the Council, Anakin’s hand on his shoulder.

The metal of Anakin’s new fingers felt cold, even through the glove he wore and Obi-Wan’s robes. He felt a hitch of guilt in his gut. It was his fault that his Master had lost a limb; if he’d just been a little faster, a little stronger, Dooku would not have taken him out of the fight.

But the brutal heat of Geonosis was behind them. There was nothing but the cool air of the Council chambers, the intent expressions of the Council members as he spoke his vows, as Anakin slid fingers up the side of his neck - prompting an inappropriate shiver, but his body remembered Anakin touching him that way in so many other situations - to grip his braid.

Obi-Wan’s heart raced, when Anakin cut through the hair, when Master Yoda smiled and told him to rise. He felt like he was dreaming, even as he stood and got a look at Anakin’s face - his expression seemed strange, unusually tense - and he gripped Obi-Wan tightly, when they embraced.

The rest of the day was a blur. The Council members all had words to say to him and his friends insisted on dragging him out of the Temple, afterwards, to celebrate. He felt Anakin’s gaze as he was tugged along, trying to call out an invitation, but something about the expression in Anakin’s eyes, dark and tense, made the words catch in his throat.

Obi-Wan was still thinking about that look when he made it back to the Temple, in the early hours of the morning. His head buzzed with drink, leaving him feeling loose as he went back to their quarters. He made no effort to be quiet as he entered; he felt Anakin’s mind - awake and restless - as he approached.

The lights were dim, when he entered their quarters. Anakin was standing over by the window, one hand braced on the wall, his shoulders a tight line, tunics gone so Obi-Wan could see the line of his spine, all the marks of different battles they’d fought together. Anakin’s hair hung loose, for once, across his shoulders. He was beautiful, so much so that for a moment Obi-Wan just stopped and stared.

Anakin asked, as the door shut behind Obi-Wan, “Have a good time?”

“Mm.” Obi-Wan shrugged. It had been nice, spending time with Aayla and the others. But he’d felt, throughout the entire evening, the tension coming off of Anakin through their bond. It had distracted him, keeping his thoughts always back on the Temple, on whatever was bothering his Master so much. He made his way across the room, asking, as he brushed a touch across Anakin’s arm, “Are you alright?”

Anakin turned away from the window without answering, all sudden movement, hard to track with Obi-Wan’s thoughts all blurred. Obi-Wan’s breath punched out, all in a rush, when Anakin pushed him against the wall.

Anakin was so close, one forearm on the wall by Obi-Wan’s head, his breath dancing across Obi-Wan’s cheeks. His eyes were dark in the dim light, capturing and holding Obi-Wan’s gaze. Obi-Wan shivered with anticipation, his body responding the way it always had when Anakin got like this. He could feel himself getting hard, without even being touched, really.

“Master,” he murmured, into the space between them, still not sure what to make of Anakin’s mood - he got into similar states often, quiet and intense, but Obi-Wan always managed to bring him back, Anakin said he was the only one who could--

Anakin made a sharp little sound, mouth twitching. “I’m not your Master anymore.” He said the words almost viciously, a curl of something dark rising in his thoughts, twining around Obi-Wan, leaving him with a shiver down his back. “And you’re not my Padawan,” Anakin added, shifting a little closer, nose sliding against Obi-Wan’s cheek. “I’ve been waiting all night to properly congratulate you, but we need to talk, first.”

“What--” Obi-Wan started, and Anakin kissed him, hard, brief.

When he pulled back, his eyes were burning. He said, low, an edge of desperation in this voice, “You’re still going to be mine, aren’t you, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan gasped, hands gripping at Anakin’s back, knowing exactly what Anakin needed to hear, feeling how much he needed to hear it, and rasping back, “Yes.”

He’d worried, the first time Anakin had said such things. Attachment and possession were not the Jedi way, but -- but everyone had said his Master was the Chosen One, and so, surely, Anakin knew what he was talking about, surely it was alright for Anakin to want him that way, just like it had been alright the first time Anakin pulled him close and kissed him, telling him, voice low and intense, afterwards, “You can’t tell the Council about this, Obi-Wan, neither of us can, or they’ll take you away from me, and I couldn’t bear that. Losing you would destroy me.”

Obi-Wan had never told anyone, not once, about the way his Master kissed him or - or any of the other things they did together.

Anakin made a hoarse sound, shifting to curl his fingers around Obi-Wan’s jaw, kissing him there, against the wall, hard and relentless. Obi-Wan hung onto him, melting into the embrace, because he knew what Anakin needed, when he got like this, his emotions flaring hot and demanding between them.

He knew exactly what his Master needed, and had always been the only one who could help.

Obi-Wan’s jaw ached, when Anakin broke the kiss. He was breathing hard, lower lip aching from Anakni’s parting nip. “You’re always going to be mine,” Anakin said, sucking kisses to his jaw, his hand sliding down. He no longer sounded like he was asking, only - only speaking fact into being, mouth hot on Obi-Wan’s throat as he nipped and sucked.

His Master liked to leave marks on him. Obi-Wan had learned that, long ago, and adjusted his garb appropriately. No one had asked why he started wearing the undertunic and high-necked shirts, but it was - was so important that no one see the dark stains on his neck, his shoulders, and--

“Say it,” Anakin rumbled, tugging at his belt, dropping it to the ground. Anakin shoved fabric back, out of the way, and the first time he’d made the request, years ago, Obi-Wan hadn’t known what it was Anakin needed to hear.

Those days were long past.

He gasped out, shivering and aching as Anakin set teeth against his skin, “I’m yours.”

Anakin’s emotions curled tighter around him, deepening. He tugged Obi-Wan’s tunics down, discarding them on the ground, trailing biting kisses out across his shoulder, rasping out, “That’s right, you’re mine. Not the Council’s.”

Anakin tore, roughly, at the closures on his trousers, shoving them down more with the Force than anything else. He curled fingers around Obi-Wan’s cock, strong and familiar and callused, and the first time Anakin had touched him like this, Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to believe it; it seemed impossible that Anakin would want him, but--

But Obi-Wan knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Anakin did. Anakin wanted him in a way he didn’t want anyone else in the galaxy. He - somehow - made Anakin happy, made him smile and - and Obi-Wan could give him what he needed, could help him, make him--

“Just yours,” Obi-Wan rasped, in dizzy confirmation, and Anakin made a pleased sound, dark and deep. Anakin ran a hand down his body, looking him over, as though there were any parts of Obi-Wan he hadn’t seen.

“No one else gets to see you like this,” Anakin rumbled, fingers brushing over marks left across Obi-Wan’s collarbone, his nipple. Obi-Wan shivered, breath getting faster from the look in Anakin’s eyes, from the way he said, “No one gets to touch you like this,” as he stroked Obi-Wan’s cock, proprietary, faster. “Not your little friends. Only I do.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why they were talking about his friends. But, then, Anakin could get… strange, if Obi-Wan spent too much time with other people. He had so much weight on his shoulders. So much asked of him. The least Obi-Wan could do was be there for him, help him, give him what he needed, promise him, “Only you.”

“Force,” Anakin rasped, leaning forward to kiss him, filthily, stroking his cock, relentless, nothing but pure pleasure in the touch as he murmured, “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, Obi-Wan?” And all Obi-Wan could do was gasp out confirmation, shivering all over as his gut tightened and he spilled all over Anakin’s fingers.

Anakin leaned back a little, just staring down at him, before he said, thick, “On your knees.”

Obi-Wan shivered, responding automatically, still lost in a haze of pleasure. He sank down, murmuring, “Yes, Master,” from long, long habit, and listening to Anakin make a hoarse, hungry sound. Anakin may not have, technically, been his Master anymore, but--but he’d long ago grown accustomed to murmuring the words, to just… doing as Anakin said, obeying his Master.

“You look so good like this,” Anakin rasped, hand still braced on the wall, reaching out to cup Obi-Wan’s jaw with his other hand, thumb stroking across Obi-Wan’s bottom lip. Obi-Wan’s breath was coming fast, shaky, his head buzzing.

He opened his mouth without prompting, when Anakin let go, tugging himself free of his slacks, his cock hard already. Obi-Wan licked across his lips, making them slick, and felt his eyes flutter as Anakin slid into his mouth.

Anakin had taught him how to properly lick and suck, taught him how to relax into it, taught him how not to gag at the pressure against the back of his throat. Sometimes, Anakin wanted him to hollow his cheeks, to bob his head and linger. And, sometimes, Anakin wanted to grip the short strands of his hair, to tilt his head just so and to fuck into his mouth and throat.

Anakin panted above him, pushing the back of Obi-Wan’s head against the wall. Obi-Wan didn’t choke, when Anakin pushed in, breath caught inside his chest, feeling every inch of Anakin’s cock. He wondered, in that vague, distant way his thoughts arrived, when Anakin was like this, if Anakin would come in his mouth or across his skin, if--

Anakin pulled out of his mouth an age later with a bitten off curse, his cock wet and hard. Obi-Wan coughed, gasping for breath, feeling his pulse throbbing in his face, the air cool on the wet skin of his cheeks and chin. He’d made a mess, but he always did, when Anakin fucked his throat.

He didn’t choke and gag anymore, but the way his eyes watered seemed to be some kind of… built in thing. Unavoidable. “Come here,” Anakin ground out, grabbing his arms and drawing him to his feet while his head was still swimming, while his thoughts were all quiet and scattered. He could only distantly sense the other Jedi in the Temple, the world beyond. Anakin’s emotions and needs filled the room, filled his head, and he shivered when Anakin kissed him, hard.

“My Obi-Wan,” Anakin panted, against his mouth, after a moment, stroking a hand back over his hair, other hand sliding down Obi-Wan’s body, over his stomach, brushing across his half-hard cock. Anakin made a thoughtful little sound when Obi-Wan jumped - still sensitive - and curled fingers around him, stroking him, slow and firm, until he’d hardened again, despite the strange ache it left in his gut. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan nodded; he’d always tried to do well, to be a good Padawan, to be what Anakin needed. He felt Anakin smile, felt his approval and pleasure, right before Anakin brushed a kiss against his jaw, and said, “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, not even thinking to protest. He always listened to what Anakin told him to do. He didn’t see why that would change, even if he weren’t Anakin’s Padawan anymore. He turned, years of training letting him stay steady, even though his head was swimming. He put his hands to the cool wall, and Anakin made an appreciative sound, dragging both hands down his sides, grip settling at his hips.

Obi-Wan gasped when Anakin shifted closer behind him, cock dragging over his skin. “I need you,” Anakin panted out. “Force, Obi-Wan. Do you see how hard you make me? How desperate? I need you so kriffing much…” He took a hand off Obi-Wan’s skin, and Obi-Wan’s breath caught when, a moment later, something slick spilled over his skin, when he heard the tell-tale sound of Anakin slicking himself up.

They’d--they’d been intimate, earlier. Before his Knighting. Anakin had been desperate, had needed him, has pressed him into their mattress and pinned his hands, fucking him hard and fast. He was still sore, aching. But it meant he was still stretched, a little, and--

And Obi-Wan forgot how to breathe, for a moment, anyway, when Anakin pushed into him, murmuring, “None of your friends know how you look like this. All reddened. Used. Desperate for it again.” He reached around to curl fingers around Obi-Wan’s cock at the same time, the sensation teetering on the edge of far too much.

Obi-Wan reached out to the Force, the way he’d learned how to do. “There you go, breathe,” Anakin murmured, stroking his cock, “you always do this so well, Obi-Wan.” And - and the praise made him shiver, even as Anakin shifted back and pushed in once more, further, Obi-Wan giving around him in a series of breathless moments, only distantly aware of the sounds he was making, all caught up in touch, in the buzz in his nerves, until Anakin’s hips were flush with his skin.

“And why,” Anakin said, like he was picking up some conversation Obi-Wan had lost track of, his voice dark and his emotions all close and swirling, as he rocked his hips, fucking Obi-Wan slow and deep. Purposeful, hand moving constantly over Obi-Wan’s cock. “Do you take me so well, hm?”

Obi-Wan knew the answer, knew it out of his head, knew it breathless, knew it with his shoulders trembling and his fingers flexing against the wall, so close to an orgasm that he knew would ache. He gasped out, “Because I’m yours.”

Anakin made a low sound, all approval, pace picking up, his hips snapping forward and the sound of skin on skin filled their quarters. Obi-Wan cried out again, pushed right up to the edge despite the discomfort, the burn, Anakin’s pleasure all in his head, all in his nerves, his own echoing out with each thrust because - because Anakin always made him feel good, when they did this, touched places inside of him Obi-Wan had never knew about and--

“There you go,” Anakin murmured, thick and pleased, when Obi-Wan came, and oh, it felt so good and it left him aching all at once, trembling as Anakin shifted and fucked him harder. He felt so sensitive he could barely breathe, floundering, his heart skipping beats.

He kept his hands on the wall, though, through all of it. He let his head dip forward, all the muscles in his shoulders shaking, feeling sweat slide down his back, feeling Anakin’s hands gripping into his hips - there’d be new marks, he knew, layered on top of the purple-green bruises already there, and--

“I can’t lose you,” Anakin panted, thrusts getting more desperate, the sounds of them moving together filling the air. “I can’t, kriff, you’re all that keeps me sane, you know that, don’t you? I love you, so much.”

Obi-Wan nodded, as best he could, trying to hold himself together. He knew, he knew it all, Anakin had told him so many times. “Say it,” Anakin ground out, his needs and desperation like physical presences in the room, “say you’re mine, Obi-Wan, say I’ll never lose you.”

Obi-Wan worked his jaw for a moment. His voice cracked, when he managed to rasp out, shakily, “I’m yours.”

“Always,” Anakin growled, voice lower, hands gripping tighter.

“Always yours,” Obi-Wan gasped, trembling, hoping he was being what Anakin needed, hoping--

And Anakin ground out, “Fuck, Obi-Wan,” and pushed into him, losing his rhythm - finally - coming with a low, ragged sound. Obi-Wan felt shiveringly aware of the length of him, the stretch. Each movement jolted through him, as Anakin breathed, heavy, against the back of his neck, just - just pressing a few kisses, absent, to his skin.

“Force, you undo me,” Anakin murmured, sliding out of him, finally, Obi-Wan felt each inch and muffled a cry by biting his bottom lip, head spinning when Anakin pressed against his side. “You’re just...irresistible. So perfect for me. Just for me.”

“Master,” he panted, his head nothing but sensation, all his thoughts gone.

Anakin made a soft sound, thick, and slid a hand over his hip, down, and Obi-Wan whimpered at the push of two fingers, just into him, the feel of leather moving into his body unfamiliar and shocking. It was so far past the edge of what he thought he could bear, but he bit back the words “I can’t.”

Anakin hated it, when he said that. And - and Anakin knew, what he could do, he was the Chosen One and he--

“I could never let you go,” Anakin murmured, soft, lazily working his fingers in and out, over flesh so sensitive that Obi-Wan wanted to grab his wrist, but he’d learned self-control. Even the Council had remarked upon it. He crooked his fingers, and Obi-Wan heard himself whimper, from somewhere far away, pleasure running through his veins alongside pain.

Anakin slid his other hand forward, after a long, long moment, curling his fingers around Obi-Wan’s cock, impossibly hard again. “I need you, Obi-Wan, you know that, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan nodded, jerkily, keeping still, back and thighs trembling as Anakin pressed against him, crooked his fingers inside, and breathed, against his ear, “You’ve been so very, very good. Just what I needed. But I need you to come for me again. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t actually sure he could, but he nodded anyway, rasped out, “Yes, Master.” And Anakin rumbled, pleased, emotions so settled now, all of his tension bled away, leaving just - just contentment and something else, far darker, that wound ever tighter around Obi-Wan - but he must have just been imagining that, and--

And Anakin worked in another finger, stroking him without reprieve, sucking kisses to Obi-Wan’s skin, murmuring, “You look so good like this, all red around my fingers, my come running down your legs. I wish the Council could see you right now, so they’d all know--”

Obi-Wan’s orgasm hurt, torn out of him, pleasure and pain racing through him as he cried out, knees going weak as his head swam. Anakin kept stroking his cock, and Obi-Wan whimpered, blinking his stinging, blurry eyes, another sound torn out of him when Anakin slid his fingers free.

He felt boneless and considered just sinking down to the floor, but Anakin moved before he could, sweeping him up with infinite gentleness. Obi-Wan pressed his face against Anakin’s solid shoulder, breathing unsteady as Anakin held him, so carefully, and murmured, dark and thick, “Congratulations, Knight Kenobi.”

#glimmer replies #obikin #as me anything #Spicy September Week #dub con #over stimulation #d/s dynamic #age swap role swap #please read the warnings #SPICY #long #dead dove do not eat #possessive anakin

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gingerale2017 · 4 years ago

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𝟛| ℂ𝕒𝕘𝕖

One year before the present day

Scarlet never thought that she would be noticed. Her whole life, she'd been invisible, but she always pushed to get attention. At first, it was to gain attention from her no-good father, who cared more about his drinks and women than his daughter. So she ran away to her grandmother's house. And that was when she lived in France. They moved here to New Beijing to get away from her father. But that was not the real reason. Scarlet had the same power as her grandma, the ability to have perfect accuracy. That's why she won dart night all the time. Her grandmother realized that there was no opportunity in France, so they moved to New Beijing. She met Selene, a girl in foster care with a terrible foster family. But then, a new superhero started showing up, calling herself 'Cinders.'

And Scarlet was a bit obsessed.

She told Selene all about Cinders, how she dressed, rumors, why her hair is always in a ponytail, her secret identity, etc. Selene was still flustered when Scarlet talked about Cinders and never talked much about the superhero with her. Selene would always change the subject when Scarlet would bring it up. Cinders were Scarlet's idol! When Selene was 14, and Scarlet was 16, she revealed herself as Channary's late daughter. Scarlet already knew this, but when Selene told her she was moving to Blackburn Skyscrapers. Scarlet freaked. She was losing her best friend. But then someone else took an interest in her. No other than Cinders herself!

Now here she was, a year later from everything, and was working with Cinders. But no one knew about Scarlet's power, and she kept it a secret because she didn't feel the need to tell anyone. She was happy and still obsessing over Cinders, and hopefully, she would stay like this for a very long time.

"Scarlet!" a familiar voice rang through the halls of the abandoned factory that the superheroes took over as their 'secret base', "Look out!" Android came running in; her arms stretched out and tackled Scarlet.

"What! What happened! Is there danger!" Scarlet exclaimed before Captain Thorn came flying in, carrying a big pole. It was more like he was flying away from something, "Did you hurt Cinder again?"

"It was an accident!" Thorne yelled, "I didn't mean to hurt Cinder; she was in the way!"

"Well, guess what, Dingus! Next time you're going to open your eyes and look at your surroundings before you go pole vaulting!" Cinders appeared in the doorway, her mask covering her eyes, and had a messy ponytail falling apart. She usually wore an all-black outfit with a black leather coat that reached her feet with orange streaks running through them. Her hair also had orange highlights in them. Scarlet had to admit; it looked pretty cool.

"Sorry, gorgeous, I didn't mean to give you a black eye to ruin your perfect face." Cinders growled and facepalmed. Captain Thorn had a traditional superhero outfit. With the red cape and everything.

"We have visitors!" The Androids voice rang. She wore a bodysuit that had a low cut on her chest. The outfit had pastel blue and lavender purple streak the white background. The colors went well with her dark skin and blue braids. All three of them wore masks over their eyes.

"Who's here? Nobody told me that we had people coming over," Scarlet looked at Cinders, and every time she did, a rush of excitement went through her. It was almost as if she couldn't believe she was here with three superheroes! One of them was her idol! Her heart thumped, and she looked away.

"Just some friends. They have information on the people being experimented on in Blackburn Industries."

"Last time you said a friend was coming over, and now we have the Frenchling," Thorne said. Scarlet scowled at him, and he gulped, "What I mean is, are we going to get some new superheroes?"

"Possibly. It depends if they want to or not." Cinder picked her nail with the metal-covered hand.

"Hello, fellow superheroes. I am Winter Hayle-Blackburn, at your service" A girl with dark brown skin and a pure white dress walked in gracefully, followed by a man with pale blonde hair. When Scarlet could see her face, she gasped. This girl was beautiful! She saw that there were scars under her left eye and briefly wondered what could've caused them. How did everyone get so attractive all of a sudden? Is it like a superhero gene or? Iko gasped and looked at Cinder, then back at Winter like she figured something out.

"Hi, Winter. You already know me. This is Android, Scarlet, and Thor-"

"Captain Thorn"

"Thorn. Anyways, you said that you have news for us?" Winter's eyes went wide and looked at the man behind her.

"Right. Jacin and I would like to talk to you all about the man in the cage."

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

"Ze'ev Kesley," Scarlet murmured, looking at the file Jacin had given them, "Who names their kid Ze'ev?" She looked at Android, who only shrugged in reply. They were at the back of the Blackburn Skyscraper, and Winter gave them a lock combination t get inside. Winter also instructed them to go to the basement, and they will find Selene there. Scarlet was excited to meet her friend again but a little scared. What if Selene changed? Well, at least she had Cinders.

Android punched in some numbers and opened the door. "Since we're all alone, I have some questions I've meant to ask you ever since you joined the team," Android said like they were going to gossip about boys.

"Oh no," Scarlet said under her breath.

"So, first, are you into anyone?"

"No?"

"Why did you say that like a question?"

"I don't know?" Android huffed as they made their way through the back tunnels. She wore regular civilian clothes for a change, and a blue hoodie covered her striking hair. She also wore a scarf and sunglasses to keep her identity hidden from Scarlet.

"Well, I do, and he's so cute," sighed the superhero dreamily.

"When did you meet him."

"The other day."

"Makes sense," only Android could fall in love with a person in a day. They went inside the elevator, and Scarlet pressed the button that went towards the basement.

"What about Cinders?" Scarlet looked at Android, confused.

"What about her?"

"You look at her the same way I look at Kai Pierce every time I see him on a picture." It was then Scarlet knew for sure that The Android has officially gone cuckoo bananas. Scarlet began to laugh.

"You're ridiculous."

"I think that I'm right." Scarlet laughed some more.

"Then I look at you and Thorne the same way," Scarlet looked up, "It's just that you guys are important, you two are superheroes, and I'm just the girl who helps them with minor tasks."

Android looked at Scarlet weirdly, "You know, Cinder, Thorne, and I have been considering telling you about our identities. And adding you as a fully-fledged member to our team!" Then, in one motion, The Android took out her sunglasses and scarf, and Scarlet gasped.

"One, this is not happening. Two, I have never seen you before in my life, so put the disguise back on. Three, I don't have- wait, I do."

"You don't have what?"

"Are there cameras in here?!"

"Yes, but they can't hear what we are saying."

"Oh, ok. But they can identify you!"

"No one knows who I am."

"Right," a ding disrupted their conversation, the elevator doors opened. Scarlet walked and recalled the directions that Winter had given them. She couldn't believe what Android just did. Scarlet refused too. But wait, did that mean that she was part of the team now? Will she get a name and a suit. The thought of being a superhero excited Scarlet so much; she could be jumping up and down. Then she saw someone she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Scarlet, you finally arrived! Long time, no see. Hey Iko." Selene was wearing a white shirt with green cargo pants with gloves and grease all over her face and smiled at Scarlet. Her old friend shared a secretive looked with The Android- WAIT! DID SELENE CALL THE ANDROID IKO!

"You know An- Iko?" Selene nodded

"Yep, she's The Android.' I tried to convince her to get a better name, but she like 'The Android'"

"Y-you know. wh-what is h-happen-ning r-right n-now." Scarlet felt like she was going to faint. Selen knew The Android. SINCE WHEN!

"It seems to me that Selene over here is Cinders, and Iko is The Android, and I, the incredibly handsome Carswell Rampion, is Captain Thorn." A guy appeared out of nowhere and slid an arm over Selene. No, CINDERS!

"Sorry I kept it from you all this time. I didn't know you had powers, and I didn't want to leave one of my closest friends behind, so I thought it would be better not to tell you."

"Wow. Umm, okay, this took a turn I did not expect."

"I think this is probably an inappropriate time to cut in, but Winter said some heroes were coming in to rescue me. I'm assuming that you guys are them?" Scarlet looked at a man older than her with striking green eyes. He had handsome features, and when he locked eyes with Scarlet, she looked away. She could also feel her cheeks heating up. He was behind metal bars placed inside the wall, and Scarlet didn't know how she didn't notice him until now. Maybe it was because she was just told THAT HER BEST FRIEND WAS CINDERS! SCARLET'S IDOL! THE HERO OF NEW BEIJING!

"Are Ze'ev Kesley?" Asked Selene- Cinders. The man nodded his head. He also had unruly dark brown hair. Scarlet briefly wondered how it would feel.

"Okay then. Our sources tell us, and by sources, I mean Winter, that you can shapeshift into any animal, am I right?

"Well, each animal takes time and practice to morph into. Sometimes it's painful, but the wolf is my favorite, and it's the easiest to control."

"So, do you have a pack or something?" Scarlet butted in. Ze'ev smiled warmly. She could felt her heart do a little backflip.

"No, but if I did, I would probably be the alpha. Hopefully." He looked away as if he was in deep thought.

"Yeah, I think so too." She smiled at Ze'ev, and he smiled back. Unlike other, certain men, Ze'ev was nice and warm. She liked that. Biting her lip, she looked up and felt something warm rush through her.

"I think I see some sparks flying," The Android- Iko singsonged. Snapping out of her trance, Scarlet glared at Iko and Thorne, who were snickering. She looked at the superheroes and saw not the great, extraordinary, talented, power-wielding celebrities. She saw normal teenagers. And Scarlet was one of them. Her friends had spilled all of their secrets, so Scarlet felt she had to do the same.

"Hey, guys. I have something I've been keeping from you as well."

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Tagging: @salt-warrior @cerenoya @cindersassasin @rue-velleia @winterrhayle @cosmicnovaflare @not-the-founder-of-rome

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#lunar chronicles #linh cinder #cress darnel #emperor kai #rampion crew #winter hayle blackburn #jacin clay #captain thorne #fanfic #tlc #scarlet benoit #s #ze’ev kesley #iko

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godkilller · 4 years ago

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ROLEPLAYING A FIGHT

DETAILS AND EXAMPLES.

As I touched on in my previous tips ‘n tricks post, fight threads should never happen in a void. There should be concrete connections to your character’s main storyline, their goals, their motivations, and other contributors to why and how they’ve found themselves in this current situation. That ALSO being said, the fight should literally not happen in a void: WHERE IS THIS CONFLICT TAKING PLACE? Describe, as an ‘establishing shot’, where your character is. Are they outside, is there a lot of room for them to run around and get into a scuffle? Are there trees, cars, buildings nearby? Will there be a high potential for objects (and people passing by) to get harmed / damaged in this battle? Does your character care about causing destruction during a fight, are they the type to say “let’s go somewhere else”?

Describing the space your characters are in is an excellent way of UNDERSTANDING WHERE YOUR CHARACTER STANDS, literally, because POSITIONING IS REALLY IMPORTANT! You don’t have to go absolutely crazy detailed when dishing out specs on where your characters are, but a general sense of “an opening within a clustered bamboo forest” or. “a half-constructed abandoned building” can really determine how the fight goes within that space, and most importantly how your character moves through that space.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER MOVE? Are they fluid, are they clumsy? Do they hunch, do they stand tall? Describing essential details pertaining to your character’s appearance, their demeanor, can help solidify them in that space. Do they sway when they talk? Do they jitter when they’re nervous or anxious? A conflict is brewing, are they looking for an escape? Do their eyes keep darting to other distractions, or to look for an opening?

THE FIRST MOVE. Who makes it and why? Example taken from a threeway thread involving Matsumoto Rangiku, Nnoitra Gigla, and Ichimaru Gin. Featuring @oboete-iru & @despairforme respectfully. Gin’s POV:

“ ❝ I saaaid... that’s e-nou-gh. Besides, why would ya go ‘n break her wieldin’ arm if she ain’t a thre---- ❞ in a flashing beam, a bared blade, his left foot swept back to brace as black-lined white billowed to reveal Shinso’s lunging bite directly past Rangiku’s hip------to drive a deep unrelenting strike into his upper ribcage; close to the armpit of the limb that held her still in favor of convincing the uncoiling reflex of his fingers. Gin aimed with precision, and with deliberate proximity to the very target he wished to not be thrown into the line of fire----quite impossible for the Espada to potentially thrust her into the fray considering Gin’s angled approach... lulled by his interrupted speech. The traitor sought to be swift; the blow would surely send the Espada backward in its connection------and hopefully result in her release. ”

Throwing the first punch is a decisive moment for many reasons, but it also should still speak to your character: DON’T EVER FORCE A FIGHT THREAD FOR THE SAKE OF ONE, if your character would rather talk their way out of a situation, exhaust that route first before going feral at your thread partner.

With that aside, let’s dissect this moment.

We get some dialogue to start the moment off, because Gin is a character who will casually chat, but he’s also cunning -- he interrupts himself to create a more abrupt attack. The motion is described as swift, so NOT MUCH IS SAID ABOUT EXACT MOVEMENTS, but we get what we need: his blade is drawn (”a bared blade”) it’s moving fast (“a flashing beam”) Gin has added strength to this strike by falling into a wider stance (“left foot swept back to brace”) and we also get where he’s aiming “directly past Rangiku’s hip to drive a deep and unrelenting strike into [Nnoitra’s] upper ribcage, close to the armpit” We also get motivation: Gin wants Nnoitra to let go of Rangiku, striking to “convince the uncoiling reflex of [Nnoitra’s] fingers” -- so we get this all relatively quick. In fact, it’s all almost condensed into one big sentence.

I don’t really worry about proper sentence structures and lengths because in fights, things should not be adhering to neat sentence pacing, they should be paced the way the fight is unfolding. Gin moves fast, and a lot of things happen at once, so that’s my style choice when writing a lot in one sentence. You can do things differently, this is just my preference!

Notice that none of the language implies that Gin’s target is being struck. The words and phrases used are open for Nnoitra to respond to, to react to, rather than to submit to. I describe things as “quite impossible” for Nnoitra to, say, throw Rangiku in front of Shinso in time -- because I want to stress the speed of Gin’s attack, and guide Nnoitra’s writer away from doing something I feel wouldn’t be realistic without the outright act of godmodding. I say this, however, by still giving Nnoitra the OPTION to do exactly what I have just stressed as DIFFICULT TO DO. Maybe he can still try to throw Rangiku into the way! It’ll be a tight window, but hey, surprise me! Writing this moment also shows that my character is actively deciphering yours, deciding what they could do and preparing for that: Gin knows Nnoitra’s dirty, and thus he’s taken a measure to avoid Rangiku paying the price by striking quickly and at an angle that would make it hard for Nnoitra to bring her harm.

At the end of this Moment(™) I top off the attack by mentioning that IF IT HITS, it’ll do X. Not only that, but IF MY ATTACK HITS, IT’LL DO X TO YOUR CHARACTER, AND HOPEFULLY CAUSE X. This sets up a potential chain of events for your writing partner to consider. If they decide that Nnoitra is going to take this hit, they can also consider: will Nnoitra be sent back through a wall, or will he drive his weapon into the ground to slow his skidding enough to avoid that? Will this be enough to make him let go of Rangiku? I have now given Nnoitra’s mun a few things to think about, or “goals” to either reach or adjust the outcome in their following reply. Nnoitra now has to a.) react to an incoming strike b.) be moved by it, either via being struck or by dodging, and c.) deal with holding onto or letting go of Rangiku, with the option of d.) a counterattack at Gin, or at Rangiku, in response to Gin likely pissing him off.

Describing motion that impacts a character other than yours: KEEP YOUR LANGUAGE OPEN, you can legit drop a “if this hits” to keep yourself from unintentionally godmodding contact onto your opponent. If you’re ever unsure, write like your character is thinking: they’re not thinking that their sword has already landed, they’re thinking about what’ll happen IF it does, or WHEN, but in an open-ended sense. The character themselves should never just manifest a blow landing in their heads as they’re swinging it, if that makes sense.

Open-ended language go-to’s for me: “aimed with the desire to cause (insert what’ll happen if your blow were to land, like ‘causing an immense force to blast all debris, and even dare to throw [opponent] backwards’)” or “their weapon sought to (insert what their attack trying to do, like cut off an arm, slash across a chest, or chop at the other’s weapon) with a wide strike” or “they parried, then moved to attempt a disarming scrape of their blade against the other’s, the swinging momentum a convincing pull to urge the swift release of the blade” etc. etc. I’m staying very vague, but the concept’s there!

THESAURUS TIME! Does your character move fast? Swift, fast, quick… those can get a little boring if your character is ALWAYS moving in that nature. So try to sometimes spice things up by playing with words that can replace your common descriptors.

https://www.thesaurus.com/ is your fellow student who’s working on a group project with you -- you shouldn’t lean so heavily on it because they’re not your friend, but it’s there to help you get the job done and together you can spruce up a neat end result.

MAKE SURE THEY STILL MEAN THE SAME THING, and don’t go too crazy as to lose your reader or distinctly destroy your pacing, your style, and your voice. Sometimes simplified is better, like describing the WOOSH of a fast moment as opposed to saying “this moved fast” -- “a WOOSH of the blade” rather than “he swung his blade quickly” can sometimes make a moment more exciting and easier to read without things droning on.

Hey, speaking of droning on, (this post lmao!!! Amirite lads???) does your character’s weapon have multiple ways of being referred to? Since a fight stars your character and their trusty weapon, having a few different ways to title it in your reply can be a lifesaver from sounding too repetitive. Shinso is Gin’s Zanpakuto, a Shinigami’s katana, and it’s in a wakizashi form. This can be called a short-sword, a wakizashi, a soul-slayer, a blade, a sword, a Zanpakuto, a ‘fang’ (swords or blades in general can be called fangs, especially if your character has animal symbolism tied to them), a beam (when it’s being shot) … and a few other things, too, to avoid me having to constantly write “Shinso” or “wakizashi” when moving it during a fight thread. I try not to alternate TOO much, because then it becomes obvious, kind of like when people start deliberately avoiding ‘said’ and it’s a dialogue-heavy scene… don’t go out of your way, this is just to help you avoid having 34 mentions of ‘sword’ in your 5 paragraph reply.

So you threw the first punch, but what happens next? Well, you can actually end your reply once your blow’s been polished up and finished. But a little bit of juicy introspection can’t hurt, too! Your character’s just started a fight, what are they thinking? What’s the damage? Did your character just do something destructive or brash? Tell us how, and what’s to be made of the attack your character just threw. Here’s Gin’s following moment after striking at Nnoitra:

“ … it’d feel nice ( akin to a surging punch ) to slam his blade into the pitiful pawn’s side. One hundred sword lengths called for, due to their confinement, a collision course that involved Nnoitra taking a shortcut through a neighboring wall. No matter the Espada’s tough exterior, solid defenses, Shinso would not stop shy. ”

There’s some more info pertaining to Gin’s attack in here, drizzled with a brief introspection that Gin will feel immensely satisfied if he gets to land a decent hit on Nnoitra (coupled with a “pitiful pawn” quip that notifies readers that Gin really DOES NOT LIKE this character, nor does he think very highly of his status, which may or may not be a chance for the character of Nnoitra to surprise or impress Gin via a hearty fight)

The details of exactly how far Gin’s blow would carry Nnoitra are important due to the nature of Gin’s special ability / sword. Shinso will “not stop shy” implying that Nnoitra’s going to either have to dodge or get slammed, because the blade that’s hitting him won’t stop its travel until it’s 100 katana-length’s long. Now, back up to the first section of this post: describing your character’s surroundings. Gin and Nnoitra are in a hallway, and Gin struck in a way that means the hallway is not going to suffice in terms of room. SO DESCRIBING POTENTIAL DAMAGES IS IMPORTANT: it paints the scene better. If Nnoitra is going to take this hit, this also means that a wall is likely going to crumble and collapse due to how tough and tanky Nnoitra is. Cue a classic anime moment of dust billowing up, rocks tumbling, and rubble shifting.

In all of this, don’t forget to respect your opponent -- Gin’s strike may land, but right from the get go there’s never an assumption that Shinso will be able to pierce Nnoitra’s tough skin. Knowing about your enemy’s special traits and abilities can help you make these moments more respectable: I know that Gin’s Shikai will not be enough to cut past Nnoitra’s hierro, his ‘steel skin’ defense. The most that’s described is the action of Shinso batting Nnoitra aside and into a wall, despite it being a sharp blade, it’s not described as an impaling moment.

That being said, don’t pull your punches if your character is a powerhouse! Respect others, don’t godmod, but also look out for defending your character’s own strengths! This can involve you studying up on how strong your character is in their universe, and finding some relations and comparisons to draw from in order to properly ‘rate’ them against your opponent. This can also lead you to a very IMPORTANT step, though not always required if both writers feel comfortable enough to proceed unplanned: TALK TO THE WRITER.

Discuss what you think your character is capable of vs. their character in a respectful way, open to hearing “actually, I don’t think that would happen” or “maybe we can go this route instead, since my character can x y and z?” Learning how to protect your character’s power while also being mindful and open to your writing partner’s character can lead to a really fun exchange and a memorable fight. You can literally drop a tentative “hey, I’m replying to our thread and Gin wants to punch Nnoitra in the face” and be responded to with a “go for it, it’ll probably break Gin’s hand” or “oh snap! that’s his one weakness!!!” LOL. I mean, unrealistic, but seriously talk to your writing partner about things if this is something you’re both passionate and excited about!

PLEASE, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT FIGHTS SHOULDN’T HAPPEN IN VOIDS, if you feel like your characters should be interrupted, or end in a draw, or lose interest / dissolve back into talking rather than fighting, then do this! Will your character chose to run away if the fight starts going south for them? Will your character try to offer a merciful end, will they be open to sparing the wounded enemy character if they feel they’ve successfully won? Does your character end up saving the other character by getting them medical help? This can go so many different ways than just blankly fighting and someone winning whilst the other dies.

CONSEQUENCES! What will the consequences of this fight be? For Gin, he has struck out at a supposed ally in defense of a Shinigami intruder that by all means should be considered the enemy. He can get into some trouble for this, or at the very least gain some speculation on where his loyalties lie if word gets out about what he’s done. Other consequences include, too, the very real threat that if Gin fails, Rangiku’s going to be killed. Find how this fight between characters can ADD MORE WEIGHT. Gin really wants this battle to end quickly and quietly. It’s going to drive him to act in a no-nonsense manner, too, because he doesn’t have time to play around. THIS IS VASTLY DIFFERENT, DUE TO THE CURRENT CONSEQUENCES, IN COMPARISON TO HIM PLAYING AROUND WITH ANOTHER MUN’S CHARACTER IN A LESS STRESSFUL SETTING.

Long term consequences, and calling back to a past fight thread in a later thread can make things extra spicy. For example, now Rangiku knows that Gin’ll fight one of his own to defend her; he can no longer pretend to be some emotionless husk standing on the opposing side in the war, he can be confronted about this moment -- by Nnoitra, too, or by other characters who are told about what happened. Gossip’s a bitch, right lads?

Now let your character recover: have them take that nap, or indulge yourself in some juicy hurt/comfort threads with an ally of yours, or some angst about a lost fight hitting your character’s confidence and mentality hard; do they train, do they rest, do they seek out someplace safe to heal, do they hunt down their rival / opponent for a second try? Are they now afraid of certain things, do they have trauma? Near-death experience, or a major injury that now hinders them?

This is a great resource to writing injuries (tw for blood and other graphic depictions of violence, injuries, detailed there) If you’re not squeamish, you can really dive into the medical side of things and study up what kind of damages your character may be faced with. It’s alright to not be totally realistic, though, considering much of what’s being written is based entirely on fake super-powered scenarios.

Sometimes, when struggling on how to describe movement, I’ll go onto Youtube and look up “Battle choreography” or “top ten realistic swordfights” or other relatable content to assist me creatively. Watching things in slow motion or multiple times to nail the positioning can help immensely. By watching similar-themed fights, I can see how those people are moving and try my best to describe that motion in written form. I try to avoid TV/Movie scenes that have been obviously hounded on for their anti-realism, especially sword fights, the common victim to Hollywood’s ridiculousness. But hey, if your character is an absolute mad lad and can pull a John Wick moment, then pull up that badass clip and go for it!

THERE’S SO MUCH TO EXPLORE, SO HAVE FUN WITH IT!

#[ roleplay resource ]#[ out of character ] masquerade; hide your face #long post #PHEW.#this was extra hard and annoying considering a few of my laptop keys have been popping off.#also: i'm not trying to toot my own horn by using my own writing as examples to dissect: i'm well aware that my writing isn't perfect.#i just didn't want anyone to feel weirded out if i put their writing under a spotlight.

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years ago

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Team Cap

Requested by Anonymous: “Civil war imagine with fem!reader and natasha where they're on opposing teams and there's some delicious angst where the reader says "the next person to ask me about Natasha is gonna lose their legs." A bit of established relationship.”

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Words: 1.9k+

Trigger Warning - Swearing

A/N - I want to make it clear i was and always will be team iron man.

Headcanon that Tony buys you iron man merch for every birthday, Christmas, etc.

"If we sign these accords I'll never be able to use my powers again," You groan loudly as you pushed yourself up on the couch. Steve heading in your direction with two colourful mugs in hand. He sits in the armchair to the right of you, passing over the mug with Iron Man's face on. Tony had bought you it for your last birthday; God only knows why. Why would you possibly want a mug that had Iron Man's face on? In all fairness, though you did use it a lot.

"Then don't," Steve insists, his shoulders rising in a casual little shrug. You rolled your eyes completely dismissing his words.

"That wouldn't be an option,"

"They can't force you to sign. Do whatever you think is right," Steve replies. You blow softly on the top of your tea before taking a small sip. He was right, even if the accords came into play they couldn't make you sign it but then there would be a penalty. You'd be working outside the law. A criminal but a just one at that.

"I wish Nat could see it as clearly as you, I can't just sign my life away."

"Maybe if you explain it to her she'll listen." he suggests. You watch him as he takes a long swig from his mug, waiting until he's finished.

"Doubt it, my girl is stubborn as an ox. A real pain in the ass."

"You're right about that," there was a light-hearted chuckle from Steve. "But if there is anyone who can convince her it's you, Y/N. Natasha may not change her mind but you can at least try to get her to understand yours."

You take a long sip of your tea, a smile settling on your lips. "You're a very wise man, Mr. Rogers. Where ever do you get it?"

"When you live as long as I have, you learn a couple of things." He nods a little, a soft smile on his lips.

"Ah to be old and wise," you comment as you finish off your tea. Placing the iron man mug on the coffee table you rush off to find Natasha. You check all the usual spots starting with the shooting range but you eventually find her hidden away in a conference room alongside Tony. She's lounging on one of the chairs near the front with her feet up on the table. Tony is sat on the table next to her as they seemingly stare at the wall. You push the door open quietly coming to a halt when you hear what they're discussing. Luckily, they hadn't noticed you yet.

"-on Cap, that's not on me."

"I don't think I've ever seen the others so angry," Natasha replies almost absentmindedly. "This could really mess with the team."

"Don't be silly, little red. The rest of them will come to their senses and realize this is what needs to be done. It's for the best."

Natasha's head shakes a little. "Don't call me little red."

Tony laughs. "They may not see it now but they will. I still can't believe you're on my side."

"And so so close to deferring." Natasha leans down on the table with her elbow. Head resting in her hand. "It's not even about sides, it's about protecting people. At the rate we're going, we're probably doing more harm than good."

"...What about Y/N?" Tony asks cautiously.

"What about her?"

"I just... you two have been acting very weird lately and she's not gonna be happy about this. You heard the other day."

A sigh follows Tony's words and you assume it came from Natasha. You shift your weight uncomfortably, you had lingered too long at the door and now it's awkward. You could pretend you hadn't been spying but now you weren't too sure she'd listen anyway. "That doesn't matter now. Y/N is.... special to me but she's also dangerous. I can't risk everyone's life just for her and she's on the wrong side of this."

Dangerous. You're dangerous. You're on the wrong side. You quietly close the door, not wanting to draw attention before heading back down the corridor. You were never quite sure where you stood with Natasha but now it was pretty clear. Do the others think the same thing? That you're dangerous?

You didn't even try to convince her. You didn't let the others try and persuade you. Instead, you pushed everyone away. If they all thought you were such a monster, this was for the best. You needed a distraction from the avengers; from your own head so you threw yourself into training. Standing in the gym at the break of dawn, you jab the punching bag with your wrapped hands, pausing briefly when you hear the door open. You hesitated for verbal communication but when there wasn't one you just continue punching. That was until you saw Natasha out of the corner of your eye. Things had become tense between the two of you; overly so. Packing up your things, you leave. You don't want to deal with her right now. Every conversation always became about the accords and you hadn't scheduled in an argument today. With Natasha in the gym, you decide the next best thing is to go for a jog outside. You've never liked jogging. You only ever do it when something is wrong; like you're running from your problems. Literally running from your problems. Steve joins you not too long after. He's faster than you are. You think nothing of it until he tries talking to you. He asks about Natasha. Guess it's time to grab some breakfast.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you head for the kitchen. It's surprisingly empty. The only other person being Clint. You're grateful when the first word out of his mouth is "Good Morning" and not Natasha related.

"What are you doing up?" You ask, as you stroll to get a bowl out of one of the hanging cupboards.

"Couldn't sleep." He replies you take a moment to look at him. The tired eyes and messy hair were an interesting look. You place the iron man ceramic bowl on the counter; another gift from Tony. He gave you it for your 1st year anniversary of joining the team.

"I feel you," You comment as you collect a box of cereal and the milk. You'd make something more but you frankly couldn't be bothered. "You gonna be okay?"

He nods, as he takes a bite of the toast sat beside him and you take him at his word. Pouring Rice Krispies into the bowl before adding some milk, you grab your empty mug and sit beside him. "You want coffee?"

You give him a firm nod as you shove a spoonful of cereal into your mouth. He pours you some and slides the mug back over. "Thanks."

"What you up to today?"

You shrug a little. "Don't know yet. You?"

"Gotta help Cap out with a few things, you can come if you want?"

"No thanks."

You continue to chat with Clint as you enjoy your breakfast. And the rest of the day goes by smoothly, you even manage to talk to Natasha a little. Although it still ended the same way and you had to remove yourself from the situation. None of the others so much as tried to interfere, they were probably just used to it by now.

The entire situation escalated so quickly, you didn't have time to figure out what was going on. Everyone seemed to just divide right down the middle creating such a rift that you were now stood at an airport fighting the avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Cap, Sam and some guy you hardly knew names Scott all lined up alongside you. Directly opposite stood Natasha, Tony, Rhodey, Vision and a guy in a cat costume? A hand brushed against yours, and you look down as Wanda takes your hand.

"You gonna be okay?"

You look back to the others, nodding your head a little. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "Well... Nat-"

"Don't." You state firmly. "We're fine. Everything is fine and I swear to god, the next person to ask me about Natasha is gonna lose their legs."

"I'm just making sure-"

"Stay out of my head, Wanda." You growl.

"What do we do, Cap?" Sam asks bringing you back from your anger. You take a deep breath.

"We fight,"

"Yay," you mumble sarcastically as you step alongside the team. The others start walking towards you as well. "This is a bad idea."

"There's no other way,"

The airport erupts into a war zone as you charge at each other. Your eyes fixed in on Natasha. Her punch collided with the palm of your hand. "Nice catch." You just roll your eyes at her comment, closing your hand around her fist, twisting her arm and dragging her to the floor. "Maybe we can work this out."

"Talk is cheap." You growl.

"Suit yourself." Her leg sweeps into your ankles, sending you falling to the ground before jumping to her feet. "I just don't want you to be mad at me over this."

You stand up, brushing yourself off. "It's not about the accords." It kind of was but not entirely. Taking a deep breath your fight becomes a series of equal parts action and reaction. You punch, She dodges. She grabs you and flips you onto the floor, you kick her legs to bring her down. You're equally skilled and aren't doing anything to cause any real damage. Pinned against the floor, Natasha holds you down.

"Then what?"

You struggle under her grip. "You think I'm a monster. You think the accords will protect people from me."

For a split second her stoic mask breaks. It takes a little help from Wanda for you to be set free. Natasha thrown against a metal container, she groans loudly. "At least, try to beat her."

You smile at Wanda. With her palms, Nat pushes off the ground with enough force that when her feet collide with your chest, you stumble backward. "I don't think you're a monster," As you punch, she twists and throws her legs around your neck, pulling you both to the ground. "You can manipulate reality that makes you dangerous. We all are. The accords will keep us in line but I understand why you went against it."

Trapped, you decide to use a different tactic. You sink your teeth into her leg which loosens her grip enough for you to pull away. "I'm not signing my powers away."

"You fucking bit me," she chuckles, running her hand over her leg. "I normally wouldn't object but damn, Y/N."

You give her a small smile. "You deserves it."

"Maybe I do,"

The fight seems to be never-ending. You're getting sore and out of breath, sweat dripping down your forehead. This was stupid and definitely getting out of hand. You throw Natasha over your shoulder, foot resting against her chest in an attempt to keep her down. "Friends again?"

"I think we're a little more than friends, don't you?" You let up and she sits up, leaning back on the palm of her hands. You sit down beside her.

"You wanna grab some ice cream after this?" You ask, falling backwards against the ground. She lays down beside you.

"Sounds like a plan."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #Black Widow #natasha romanoff imagines #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #Team Cap

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thevampirediariesdiary · 5 years ago

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DAMON AND ELENA, SEASON 2 INDEX

below the cut you will find a nearly exhaustive collection of Damon and Elena’s interactions, or conversations relating to their relationship, in season two. it mostly exists for my own meta-writing purposes, because I have a terrible memory, but I would love it if people reblogged and gave their rankings! top 10 moments, favorite angst moment, favorite romantic moment, favorite funny moment, etc. write meta! tag your friends! revive the fandom!

unless stated otherwise, you may assume the two people conversing are Damon and Elena. moments are included or not included only on the basis of my personal bias, and/or whether I forgot them.

From 2.01, The Return

Really? Before, on the porch? We were talking, all cathartic, feelings exposed?Come on, we kissed, Elena. / Okay, I don’t have time for this, Damon. / Hey, if you want to forget it happened, fine, but I can’t.

We should be able to talk about this, Damon, we’re close enough now. I really want to know how you’re doing. / I kissed you, I thought you kissed me back, doppelganger hijinks ensued. How do you think I’m doing. / I think that you’re hurt / Mmm, no, I don’t get hurt. / No, you don’t admit you get hurt, you get angry, you cover it up, and then you do something stupid. / You’re scared, you think Katherine’s going to send me off the deep end, don’t you? I don’t need her for that. You know what, why is it such a surprise that I would kiss you? / That’s not a surprise. I’m surprised that you thought I’d kiss you back. / Now I’m hurt.

You’re surprised I thought you’d kiss me back? You can’t imagine that I’d believe that you want to? You’re the liar, Elena. There’s something going on between the two of us and you know it, and you’re lying to me, and you’re lying to Stefan, and most of all you’re lying to yourself. I can prove it. / No, Damon, don’t. What’s wrong with you? / Lie about this. / Stop it, you’re better than this, come on. / That’s where you’re wrong. / No, Damon, I care about you. listen to me, I care about you I do, but I love Stefan, it’s always going to be Stefan.

(Stefan) She got under his skin, she undid everything good about him. / (Elena) There’s nothing good about him, Stefan, not anymore. He’s decided what he wants. He doesn’t wanna feel, he wants to be hated, it’s just easier that way. He got his wish. I hate him, Stefan.

From 2.02, Brave New World

I need you to come with me. / Whatever it is, I’m not interested. / Yeah, I need you to come with me right now, Elena.

Damon, she’s my friend.

From 2.03, Bad Moon Rising

I’ll take really good care of her. (spiteful stelena makeout)

(takes an arrow for her)

You touch her and I swear I’ll never speak to you again. / What makes you think that has any power over me, because I took an arrow in the back for you? You overestimate your influence.

Come on, you can’t hate me forever....You have every right to hate me, I understand, but you hated me before and we became friends? It would suck if that was gone forever. So...is it? Have I lost you forever?

Road trips work well for us. / This doesn’t mean that things are back to the way they used to be, Damon. / Oh, come on, you know I chipped a little bit off your wall of hatred. / I need to know the truth, when you broke Jeremy’s neck, did you know he was wearing his ring? / No. No, I didn’t. Katherine really pissed me off, and I snapped, and I got lucky with the ring. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he wasn’t wearing it. Elena, I’m sorry. / Thank you for being honest with me. And the answer to your question about our friendship? Is yes. You have lost me forever. / But you knew that already, didn’t you? You used me today. I thought friends don’t manipulate friends. You and Katherine have a lot more in common than just your looks.

From 2.04, Memory Lane

(Stefan hallucination, Elena with Damon in 1864 and then in the grille playing pool.) It’s your turn / Be prepared to lose

I made myself clear, Damon, I want nothing to do with you.

(Damon) I don’t do jealous, not with you, not anymore. / (Katherine) Don’t try to be the hero, Damon, you’ll end up dead. / Been there, done that, at least this time it’ll be worth it.

From 2.05, Kill or Be Killed

(Damon) So what’s up with this faux drama in your relationship? / (Stefan) What are you talking about? / Oh come on, Stefan. You and Elena don’t fight. Especially not over me.

What you did for Caroline’s mom...that's the Damon who was my friend. / Hey. Stefan didn’t drink the people blood, if you were curious. But he needs to. And you know that.

From 2.06, Plan B

I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t think / It doesn’t matter, Damon. She won, Katherine won.

From 2.07, Masquerade

Everything you’re doing is hurting Elena.

She’s the doppelganger, she needs to be protected / Then I’ll protect her.

From 2.08, Rose

(staircase, over Stefan’s shoulder moment) thank you / you’re welcome

Cute PJs. / I’m tired, Damon. / I brought you this. / I thought that was gone. Thank you...please give it back. / I just have to say something. / Why do you have to say it with my necklace? / Because what I’m about to say is probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever said in my life. / Damon, don’t go there. / I just have to say it once, you just need to hear it. I love you, Elena, and it’s because I love you that I can’t be selfish with you, why you can’t know this. I don’t deserve you. But my brother does. (forehead kiss) God, I wish you didn’t have to forget this. But you do.

From 2.09, Katerina

(Rose) Must be difficult being in love with your brother’s girlfriend. / (Damon) I’m not in love with anyone.

(Caroline) She’s not in any danger, I would not let her put herself in danger. / (Stefan) Any danger where, where is she? ...she’s with Damon, isn’t she. / Ew! No!

(Rose) You’re right to fight it...the way you feel about her. / (Damon) And why is that? / Because if we’re going to survive, we need to not care about anyone. / Caring gets you dead, huh? / It might just be time to turn the switch off on your emotions. / I will if you will.

From 2.10, The Sacrifice

(Elena) Everyone that I care about, including the two of you.

Come on, we’re leaving. / No. / I said, we’re leaving. / I’m not going with you. / You don’t get to make decisions anymore. / When have I ever made a decision? You and Stefan do that for me. Now, this, this is my decision. / Who’s going to save your life while you’re off making decisions? / You’re not listening to me, Damon, I don’t want to be saved, not if it means Klaus is going to kill every single person that I love. / Get your ass out the door before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself. / No. (she tries to punch him, he catches her hand) / Don’t ever do that again.

What you did today was incredibly stupid. / Actually, the only thing stupid was that I got caught. I don’t question why you and Stefan and everyone else try so hard to save me, you shouldn’t question why I would try to save all of you. Damon, good night, okay?

Stefan’s in there, Damon, how could you let this happen? / What are you talking about? I was too busy saving you from your crazy kamikaze mission. / You didn’t even have to go after the moonstone in the first place. / It was the right call, Elena. / Right call?? How was any of this the right call? Damon, let go of me, let go of me. Let go of me! Please / Are you done?

(Stefan) Keep Elena away from here. / (Damon) Yeah, cause that’ll be easy. / Promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll protect her. / Promise. / (Katherine) That right there was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.

From 2.11, By the Light of the Moon

Come on, pouty, at least give me two points for ingenuity. / Do you think this is funny? / Yes, Elena, I find hilarity in the lengths I repeatedly have to go to to save your life. / What did Stefan say about this? / We had a good laugh. / And what did he say about Elijah still being alive? / Yeah, that...didn’t tell him. / Why not? / Well, A he can’t do anything about it, and B...what I just said. Where’s Bonnie? / (Jeremy) I thought she was with you? / No, she’s on moonstone duty and I’m on Elena patrol. / (Jeremy) Who’s on Tyler Lockwood and the full moon? / Vampire Barbie asked me if she could handle it, and I figured worst case scenario he’ll bite her and I’m rid of two of my problems. / Wait, tonight’s the full moon? / Yep, and you were too consumed by your suicidal tendencies to notice....Change of plans, you babysit. Oh hey, you should get out, enjoy the sun – oh wait, you can’t.

From 2.12, The Descent

(Rose) You’ve never been in Damon’s room before, have you? Not what you expected. / (Elena) It’s just a room with a bed...maybe I expected there to be silk sheets. / You’re lucky, you know. No one’s ever loved me the way you’re loved.

You were supposed to leave. / I did. But then I came back to make sure you were okay. / I appreciate the gesture. I’m just glad it’s over. / You know I don’t believe that. / Go home, Elena. Get some rest. It’s a whole new day tomorrow. / Damon, I’m your friend - / I’m well aware of that. / And a friend usually knows when their friend is hurting. / What do you want to hear? That I cared about Rose, that I’m upset? Well I didn’t and I’m not. / There you go, pretending to turn it off, pretending not to feel. Damon, you’re so close, don’t give up! / I feel, Elena, okay, and it sucks. What sucks even more is it was supposed to be me. / You feel guilty. / That would be human of me, wouldn’t it, Elena? And I’m not human. And you’re one to talk about giving up, all you’ve done is give up. Go home, there’s been enough doom, gloom, and personal growth for one night. / Okay, I will. (hug)

From 2.13, Daddy Issues

He just blew in, announced to Jenna that he’s my dad, and then took off. / That’s public knowledge now? / Apparently. / You okay? / Yeah. Jenna’s head is spinning, but I’m okay. / Did he say what he was doing here? / No. Stefan thinks he’s telling the truth about wanting to help me. / Do you believe him? / No, I don’t believe him for a second. / I don’t either. / What’re we going to do? / Kill him. / Damon. / I’m joking...well, I’m a little serious. / Damon! / Relax, Elena, I’m not going to hurt him. I’m a good guy now, remember. / What does that mean? / I’m going to have a civil conversation with your father. / Wait, I’m coming with you.

We just need answers, please don’t do anything stupid. / Yeah, but stupid’s so much more fun. / Damon, I mean it. All I ask is that you try to keep it together…be the better man. / Okay then.

You totally blew her off. / Trust me, it’s in the best interests of women everywhere.

Damon, please. Okay, too many people are dead. / You need to stop doing that. / Doing what? / Assuming that I’ll play the good guy because it’s you who’s asking. / Be the better man, Damon.

(Damon) I’m in love with a woman I can never have. / (Andi) Let me guess, she’s in love with another man. / Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is I’m in love with her and it’s driving me crazy, I’m not in control. / What, you don’t trust yourself around her? / I don’t trust myself around anyone, Andi....It’s in my nature, it’s who I am. But then I have to stay together to protect her, and she wants me to be the better man, which means I can’t be who I am. / Maybe this is who you are now, love does that, Damon. It changes us.

From 2.15, The Dinner Party

You guys want me to fight, I’ll fight, but if we’re going to do this you can’t keep things from me. From now on, we’re doing things my way. / Seems fair.

From 2.16, The House Guest

(Damon recognizes Katherine pretending to be Elena.)

How did you guys convince [Katherine] to [pretend to be Elena]? / We didn’t. It was actually her idea. / Oh, that’s not good. / No, no that’s not good at all.

From 2.17, Know Thy Enemy

(Damon) Right now you should just stay here. It’s safer for us to keep an eye on you. / (Stefan) What, in the house that any vampire can enter? No, her house is safer. / (Damon) Well then we’ll stay there. / (Elena) So, is that the plan? Neither of you let me out of your sight again? (Damon) Let me know when you come up with a better one.

(Elena) You’re giving me your house? / (Stefan) Isobel had the right idea with the safehouse, this way you can control who gets invited and who doesn’t. / (Damon) But I’ll be super pissed if you lock me out.

From 2.18, The Last Dance

What are we, twelve? / One of us is. If I let you in, do you promise to obey the owner of this house? / No. / Seriously, Damon! My way, you promised. I call the shots. No lies, no secret agendas. Remember? / Yes, Elena. Sure. / Then please, come in.

How you doing? / Freaking out a bit, you? / Cool as a cucumber. Come on, remember the last decade dance? The vampires were all ahhh and you were all ahh! / Right, and you won. / Yes, we did. / You’re good at this! / I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.

Stefan, get Elena out of here, I’ll deal with the body. / What do you mean, deal with it? / Sheriff can’t know about this. Last thing we need’s another mysterious death. / This is Bonnie! / Get her home now, so I can clean this up. / Oh my god, what about Jeremy? / I’ll find him.

What did you do with her? / Will you please calm her down. / Don’t talk like I’m not standing right in front of you. / Please, calm down. / You knew, didn’t you? You knew that if she harnessed all that power, that she would die, didn’t you? / Yes. yes, I knew. (smack) You need to listen to me and prepare for what I’m about to say....he had to believe it.

(Stefan)You could’ve told me. / (Damon) How do I know when you’re gonna go blabbing things to your girlfriend? / Don’t you understand what you put her through. / See, that’s why I didn’t tell you, because you’d never have been able to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Stefan, I don’t mind being the bad guy. I’ll make all the life and death decisions, while you’re busy worrying about collateral damage. I’ll even let her hate me for it. But at the end of the day, I’ll be the one to keep her alive.

Look, Klaus had to think she was dead. Your reaction had to be real. / I understand why you did what you did. Klaus was fooled, and Bonnie’s alive. / Here’s to duplicity. / But let’s get one thing straight, Damon. Bonnie will not die for me, I will not let that happen. / We need to kill Klaus, Elena. Real Klaus, who will probably be coming to pay you a visit soon now that he knows that Bonnie’s dead. She’s the only one who can do it. / We’ll find another way. / I hope so. / Look, I shouldn’t have hit you. / Apology accepted. Let me be clear about something: if it comes down to you and the witch again, I will gladly let Bonnie die. I will always choose you. / Good night, Damon. / Good night.

From 2.19, Klaus

Where do you think you’re going? / Back to Elijah. / No. / Get out of my way, Damon. / If you so much as try to take a step out of this house... / (Andi) Damon, easy. / Stay out of this, Andi. / (Stefan) Let her go. / Are you kidding me, we just got her back. / (Stefan) I said, let her go. / That’s twice today you’ve stood in my way, I wouldn’t try a third.

From 2.20, The Last Day

What if it doesn’t work, Elena? / Then I guess I’ll just be dead.

(Elena) Where is Damon? / (Jenna) I saw him go upstairs. / (Elena) You disappeared. / (Damon) I didn’t want to hear anymore. / I need you to understand why I’m doing this. / Why, it clearly doesn’t matter what I think. / I’ll be fine, Damon. I’ll drink the elixir, Bonnie will kill Klaus, and then all this will finally be over. / If it works. / It will work. / You think it will work. You want it to work. Why am I the only one convinced it won’t? There has to be another way. / There isn’t. / Then you’re going to die, Elena. / And then I’ll come back to life. / That is not a risk I’m willing to take. / But I am. It’s my life, Damon. My choice. / I can’t lose you. / You won’t. / There is another way. / What are you...Damon, no. Damon, no!

(Damon) You’re so bent on dying, at least this way I know you’ll come back. / (Stefan) As a vampire...she’ll come back a vampire. / It’s better than nothing else. / (Stefan) How could you of all people take that choice away from her? / Go ahead, wish me an eternity of misery. Believe me, you’ll get over it.

(Stefan) It would be selfish for me to ask you. / (Elena) Didn’t stop Damon. / He shouldn’t have done what he did. But he did it because he loves you. / But he did this to me, Stefan, which means, he doesn’t really know what love is. And to be honest, I’m not sure if I do.

From 2.21, The Sun Also Rises

(bridal carry)

Come back as a vampire, I’ll stake you myself, so don’t. Cause I can’t stand the idea of you hating me forever....Elena. / Damon? / How do you feel? / I feel fine.

(John’s letter) Whether you are now reading this as a human or a vampire, I love you all the same as I’ve always loved you and always will.

(Stefan) Damon, she needs us right now, all of us. / (Damon) And then what’s the plan, Stefan. The curse is broken. How does one go about killing an all-powerful wolf-vamp and his two-faced older brother? / I have no idea. / Then we need to get an idea, and fast. / I’m not going to let Elena lose anyone else. / I wouldn’t make any promises, brother. / What’s that supposed to mean? / Tyler Lockwood bit me. It’s actually more of a nip, really, but there it is. / We’ll find something. A cure. / There’s no cure, Stefan. / We kept Elena human, right? We found a way when there was no way. Hey. I will do this. / You want to do something for me, keep this from Elena. Last thing she needs is another grave to mourn.

From 2.22, As I Lay Dying

I want to apologize. / Damon. / Please, Elena, feeling you my blood, I was wrong. / Yes, you were. / And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need it. / And I need some time, maybe a lot of time / Sure, of course, take all the time you need.

(Elena) You’re breaking the rules, you know. Movie night’s supposed to be a distraction, tomorrow we can return to our regularly scheduled drama. / (Stefan) I know, I wish this could wait. But it can’t. Listen, um, the other night when Damon was helping Tyler, something happened. Tyler was starting to transform and...Damon was bitten. / What? Is it, is he...gonna? / Yeah? / Oh my god. He came to the house this morning and tried to apologize, I practically slammed the door in his face. / He told me not to tell you, but I figured if you wanted to talk to him...I wouldn’t wait. / Stefan... / It’s not over. There might be a cure, but I have to find Klaus to get it. / No, he’s going to kill you. / No, he had the chance to kill me, but he didn’t. Whatever Damon’s done, whatever led him here, I’m the one that made him become a vampire in the first place. So if there’s a chance for a cure, I owe it to him to find it. Go talk to him. Tell him that there’s still hope.

Elena. / It’s okay, I’m here. / Elena, get out of here, I could hurt you. / No, you won’t. I’m not leaving you. I’m here till the very end. / Get out of here. / Shhh it’s okay. / It’s not okay. All those years I blamed Stefan, no one forced me to love her. It was my own choice. I made the wrong choice. Tell Stefan I’m sorry. / I will.

This is even more pitiful than I thought. / There’s still hope. / I’ve made a lot of choices that have gotten me here. I deserve this, I deserve to die. / No, you don’t. / I do, Elena, it’s okay, because if I had chosen differently, I wouldn’t have met you. I’m so sorry. I’ve done so many things to hurt you. / It’s okay, I forgive you. / I know you love Stefan, and it will always be Stefan. But I love you. You should know that. / I do. / You should have met me in 1864. You would have liked me. / I like you now, just the way you are. (kiss) / Thank you. / You’re welcome.

#s2 #damon/elena #index #delena

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toxicxxmyth · 6 years ago

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The Truth Untold; Sebastian Stan

Sebastian Stan

Summary: Y/n Y/l/n, born and raised in south side Chicago. Now raising her five younger siblings, she’s not even sure if some of them are actually related to her. But she takes care of them nonetheless, as best as she can. While her drunk father continues to make their life harder. And her drug addicted mother comes bursting through the door once every to years. Its a chaotic life for a 23 year old, but she made it work. Until one day, the most notorious mob leaders of the country shows up to do some business in the south side.

Au: Shameless!Au, Mafia!Sebastian

Warning(s): Cussing, slight smut, poverty, drugs etc

Word Count: 3,047

A/N: This is literally a Shameless fanfic, if you’ve seen the show, AMAZING, if not than you should because its amazing.

A/N 2: Plus this lowkey kinda sucks lol, so watching the show will make up for it.

A/N 3: I didn’t write the whole smut cause i suck at it, but i’ll try my best if you guys ask for it.

prima întâlnire

The whole club glowed with blue and green laser beams shooting out from the rotating lights on the ceiling. Smoke coming out of both ends of the dance floor, the bar area seemed to be the only calm part of the club. It was Friday night and the club was beyond packed with people dancing dirty in the middle of the club. The air was thick, a mixture of the fog machine and marihuana clouds. Making it slightly hard to breathe. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Except you, apparently. Stress radiated off you as you sat, tensed at the bar. Watching as the bartender scrambled back and forth to take orders from everyone who crowded the bar. You couldn’t possibly have fun when your father arrived after months of his little rendezvous of drugs and alcohol. Causing even more chaos in your home.

“Y/n, I’m going to need you to get off your ass and start having some fun” Camille stutters over to you, making you lose your train of thoughts.

“Nah, I think I’ll head home for the night” You shrugged, grabbing your purse and downing your drink.

“What!? The whole point of taking you to the club was for you to loosen up, Y/n/n” She whines, bringing her hands up to rub your bare and tensed shoulders, a pout adorning her red lips. Making you shake your head with a slight smile at the drunken state of your best friend.

“I have to get back to the kids. It’s kind of hard to have fun when all I can think about is Ethan blowing up the kitchen” You sigh, wincing at the thought of your little brother destroying your kitchen for one of his stupid experiments.

“Fine, I’ll take you. It’s no fun without you” She huffs while turning around dramatically. Causing a giggle to rip from your throat. “Don’t move, I’m getting my stuff”

“You don’t have to though, I can just take the bus. You should stay and have fun with your coworkers” You reassured her as she raised an eyebrow at you.

“At 1:34am, Y/n, I think the fuck not” She gave you a look as if warning you to stay put.

Your lip caught between your teeth as you watch your best friends stumble across the club, a smile on your lip as you thought how lucky you were to have such an amazing friend like her. Grabbing your purse to take a few dollars out to pay for your drink, your felt lips against the shell of your ear, and with a husky voice, he spoke.

“I can feel your stress all the way across the room”

You turned around quickly, eyebrows raised ready to tell the guy off, only to stop and gasp loudly. Your eyes wide and mouth agape, lucky for you, the music was booming loud so the chance of him hearing your deep gasp was slim to none.

He’s beautiful, to say the least. The lights didn’t seem to bother you anymore as you analyzed every feature on the man. He had deep blue eyes, ones you could easily lose yourself into. Prominent cheekbones, his facial hair was growing out, causing your thoughts to wonder off to inappropriate scenarios. His lips where a light shade of pink, looking delicious as ever. He was older, maybe in his thirties, but you couldn’t tell. His whole body covered in black designer, he was expensive.

“Um, I-” You stuttered, brows furrowed in confusion, you’ve never seen this man in your life.

“What is it? Cat caught your tongue” He smirked, bringing his glass full of scotch to his lips. Cocky motherfucker.

You scoffed at his attitude, biting your bottom lip to surpass a smile. You didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or ride his dick into the sunset.

“And who the hell are you? My stalker?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you gained your composer as you got a clue on what type of guy you may be dealing with.

“No, no stalker here. I couldn’t help but notice your lack of interest of for being here tonight” He smiles kindly, catching you off guard.

“Yeah, well clubs aren’t really my thing, feel like I have better things to do” You nod your head, turning away from him, looking at one of the bottles that was placed on the wall along the others as if it was the most interesting thing there. Anything to look away from the beautiful stranger.

“Yeah? Like what?” He asked, downing his drink while calling over the bartender to order a new one, you assumed.

“Finding a job without having to blow the manager” You simply stated. Causing him to chuckle. His smile was absolutely breathtaking.

“What’s you name” He asked, which felt more of a statement, actually.

“Uh Y/n. Yours?” You looked up at him, only to be met face to face with his beautiful eyes.

“Sebastian”

Sebastian, even his name is attractive.

“So what brings you to south side Chicago?” You asked. Interested in why such a wealthy looking man would end up in this dump.

“Business.” He shrugged, voice lowering as he said it. Eyebrows raised at you as if warning you not to ask anymore, which exactly what you did. You wouldn’t show it, but his demanding tone scared the shit out of you, but weirdly enough, it turned you the fuck on.

“Let me buy you a drink” He offers.

“I can’t, I uh have to get back to my kids” You shake your head and getting up from the stool. Ready for his surprised face a stuttering words at the mention of five kids. But to your surprise, he was unfazed.

“Kids?” He asked, pulling out his wallet, taking out big cash as he dumped it on the counter for the barista to take. Making your eyes wind just a bit.

“They’re actually my siblings, but they’re still kind of my kids” You confirmed while nodding your head. His eyes ranking your body, you felt small under his gaze, making you feel insecure.

“Let me guess” He began, clearing his throat as he ripped his gaze away from yours.

“First born, OD’d mom, alcoholic father. Leaving you to raise your siblings, you had to grow up at a young age, at maybe” He stops and raises his hands in defense “and this is just a guess, 13, maybe? Didn’t finish high school cause of your deadbeat parents and you’re currently jobless, stealing and scamming for food and clothes in the meantime” He finishes while looking at you with a small smile.

You couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief. Wondering if you should be offended by the assumption or impress by how spot on he was.

“Mom didn’t OD though, haven’t seen her in years. But I do know that she’s out living her best life. And I was actually 6 when I realized my parents didn’t give a shit. Ended up raising my two brothers. Then came the rest” You sigh, somewhat sadly at the situation you were in at such a young age, but you loved your siblings nonetheless.

“Must’ve been tough” He gave you a sad smile, taking a sip out of his drink.

“Yeah, but I got used to it pretty quick”

“Well it seems like you know everything about me, so why don’t you tell me about yourself. I bet it’s much more interesting than my shitty life” You chuckled, hoping to get some kind of information about what kind of business he was running here.

“It’s really crawdad in here, let’s go outside” He moved his head to point at the door.

“No” You simply stated. Earning a look of shocked and surprised from the dominant male. Which boosted your ego just a little.

“This is how things work. I walk out with you, you tell me your oh so tragic childhood which causes me to pity you. Soon, once I’m under your spell, you chloroform me and a white van appears out of nowhere and I’ll be part of a illegal sex and drug trafficking ring” You smiled innocently at him.

“I’d actually be much more creative in kidnapping people”

You didn’t know if he was being funny or serious, but it made you feel a mixture of fear and desire.

“I’m from Romania, actually. Born and raised, came to America when I was 16, pretty hard to adapt to a new life. But I managed it” He offers a smile before continuing. “Dad took off with some young blondie, claiming he was in love with her” He used his fingers to quote on “in love”, “And mom got sick, and with dad gone, I couldn’t take care of her properly. So I dropped out of high school and got a job, one that paid extremely well. And I became good at it, really good, actually. So that’s me. A Businessman taking care of his family” He smiled at you, playing with the drink he had, one that you didn’t notice before.

“Is your mother okay now” You asked, your ears on full display for him.

“Yeah, she’s fine now”

You nodded your head in understatement, but a question kept bugging you, so you asked hesitantly .

“And your dad?” And just like that, his whole body tensed up, eyes darkening at the mention of him. Mentally cursing yourself for being so damn nosy.

“I’m so-”

“No, its fine. He’s out of the picture, for good. Has been for years” He had a sinister look in his eyes, which caused an uneasy feeling to burst in your stomach.

“I can take you home” He smiles, kindly, this time.

This caused you to furrow your eyes in confusion, until you realized that you claimed to leave and go home when he first arrived.

“I’m not going to hop in a strangers car and ditch my drunk best friend” You smirked, yet your hand didn’t dare move out of his grasp. And he noticed two due to the smirked that was placed on his lips. Before you knew it, you were pulled into his arms, making you gasp and pull away quickly. It felt incredibly nice feeling his lean fit body against yours, but pulling always was basic reflex.

“Feisty” He chuckle, tongue swiping across his lips as his ring covered fingers traced your features. The whole mood went from a pity party to testing both your sexual desires. The softness of it all made you lean in while closing my eyes. It’s been a hell of a while since you’ve been touched, even slightly, especially by such an attractive man.

“And you’re incredibly cocky”

“I am, aren’t I?” He laughed, and actual laugh. Which left you slightly confused.

---

Before you fucking knew it, your back was being pressed against the dirty walls of the most disgusting public bathroom you’ve probably ever been in while your neck was being devoured by a stranger you met 20 minutes ago. Your hands were firmly pressed against his chest, head tilted to the side giving him as much access to your neck as he needed.

“Fuck, Sebastian” You couldn’t help but moan as you felt his growing dick press against your underwear. Your dress pulled up to your waist, making you feel like a cheap whore. But the feeling of Sebastian’s lips sucking roughly on your collarbone, his beard scratching against you and his growing dick rubbing against your slick underwear made you forget about your pride.

His hands found their way to your exposed ass, squeezing them as hard as he could. His nails and cold rings digging into your skin made push your body harder against his. Your breathing was erratic, your hands couldn’t seem to find a place to rest upon. So you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at it so you could look him in the eye, which were now a dark blue. Pupils slightly dilated, lips bruised and painted by your pink lipstick. The sight alone could’ve made you come undone.

Sebastian had other plans, while you were admiring his features, his hand pass your underwear, pressing harshly against your clit. You gasp loudly as you hold onto the back of his neck for some sort of support.

Dragging his fingers down your slit, he collected some of your wetness and brought it back up to your clit, so it be easier to play with you. All while biting the shell of your ear.

“So wet, so delicious” He praised while slamming his lips on yours. The kiss was sloppy, but none of you minded it much.

His touch were soft, yet he had you rolling your eyes back as he rubbed you clit in circles.

You were so caught up in your own bubble of pleasure, you didn’t notice him using your thigh to rub his closed dick on. And smirked formed on your lips as your hand reached down to roughly palm him. But before you could do anything else. He grabbed your hand and turned you over the sink. Taking your hair into a makeshift pony tail, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror, all while grinding his dick on your bare ass.

“I promise, next time, I’ll fuck you somewhere less disgusting, and more expensive, but for now, you’ll have to deal with this” He growls against your cheek.

Next time...

Staring at the blank walls of your room at 6:50 became some sort of tradition. Sleep was nowhere to be found as your thoughts kept you up every night. But lately, the only thought on your mind was Sebastian, and his beautiful blue eyes, his ring covered finger and his delicious lips. Fucking asshole.

It’s been exactly a week since you your encounter, and to be honest, you were devastated, especially after he gave you the best fucking orgasm you’ve ever experience in a smelly bathroom than any guy in your bed.

Sighing for the 20th time, you decide to get up from your pity party and head downstairs for a glass of water. A sleeping pill would be great if you didn’t have five kids to look after and figuring way to get. You only had 10 minutes before waking everyone up and cooking breakfast. And preparing their lunches for school. A headache already forming at just the thought of it, but you knew it was just lack of sleep.

Half way down the stairs, you heard a loud knock on your door, causing you to stop and furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Who the hell could that be?” You thought out loud as you reached the end of the stairs, grabbing the robe that was left on the couch and wrapping it over your semi naked body.

“Delivery for Y/n Y/l/n” Was the first thing that came out of the man’s mouth as you opened the door half way.

“Delivery? What do you mean delivery, from who?” you asked, opening the door wider and wrapping your arms around your freezing body. Today was Sunday, there are no deliveries on Sundays. Though, the fact that today wasn’t supposed to be mail day, it was the least your worries. What worried you most was the man delivering it. He was dressed in all black, hair slicked back and tattoos adorning his face. A cigarette handing from behind his ear, though it wasn’t enough to surprise or worry you.

“Delivery from Mr. Stan” He coughs nervously, as if saying the name will cause a curse for all eternity.

Confused, you take the heavy box into your arms.

“Who-“

“Have a good day, ma’am” He smiles and walks away, leaving you confused, and slightly scared of what might be in the mysterious box that looked to be more expensive than your whole house.

“Ma’am? Who the hell are you trying to fool here” You questioned, mostly to yourself as you shut the door close.

“What’s that?” Came the voice of the second oldest, Jeremy, as he slouched on the couch, lighting up a cigarette as he did so. Causing you to groan in annoyance while ripping it out of his mouth.

“I have no fucking clue. Go make yourself useful make breakfast.”

“Like what?” He groans, not really paining attention to you.

Like cereal” You ordered as soon as you heard the alarm from one of the room upstairs, knowing everyone will be down soon.

“There’s no milk”

“Then use water”

Once upstairs, you closed the door, locking it before throwing yourself on the bed with the box in your lap. Pretty stupid of you to accept a box from a drug dealing looking kid, but here you were. Half way opened, you noticed a card sticking out from the side. And saw a neat handwriting, one that you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before.

“No legacy is as rich as honesty”

I know you’ll probably think I’m an asshole for this. But here’s a little something for you to get by. I’ve been in the same situation, though, I took a dangerous root. So in the meantime, here’s a gift to help you and and your family. Don’t make a fuss, and burn, just enjoy it. And I’ll see you soon”

Sebastian.

Beyond confused, you opened the box only to find a shit load of money stacked on top of another. Maybe, 9, 10 grand? You didn’t know, but you panicked. Your eyes wide in shock, your hand covering you mouth as, your hand covering you mouth as our mind tried to process what was happening.

“What the fuck, did you rob a bank or something?” Jeremy gasped as he busted into the room, staring at the money. You crumbled the note and placed it in between your legs so Jeremy didn’t notice. Once you were calm enough, you took a deep breath and closed the box calmly

“Count the money. We’re giving it back”

“Who the hell did you get involved with, Y/n?” Jeremy asked, sternly, this time. He closed the door and grabbed the box, making sure the other didn’t hear or see.

“I have no fucking clue, but that money is not staying”

#sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan headcanon #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes #avengers imagine #marvel imagine

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dccomicsimagines · 6 years ago

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What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Two

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Zipping up your duffel bag, you looked around your bare room. About a month had passed since the day of the will reading. Most of that time was spent getting the Manor ready to be closed up. No one wanted to live here anymore. You did, but apparently what you wanted didn’t matter.

Damian had already moved into the city to live at Wayne Tower. Alfred was going with him while you were forced to go live with Dick. You sat down on the bare mattress, dreading the thought of never being here again. It wouldn’t be so bad if Dick lived nearby, but no, he had to live all the way down in Florida for that stupid circus he owned.

“(Y/N), time to go,” Dick said, poking his head in. He had a smile on his face. You wanted more than anything to wipe it off with your fist, but you resisted. Sadly, you were finding it useless to fight him. To make matters worse, he was helping the visions, headaches, and flashbacks you had been suffering from go away.

A sigh escaped your lips. You picked up your duffel before trailing your hand across your mattress one last time. Dick cleared his throat. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t react. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you down the steps to the front door.

Dick’s new car was shiny and out of place in the driveway. Alfred stood beside it, packing the last box into the truck. Everything you owned was now in the truck of Dick’s car. You never felt so lost.

“Mx. (Y/N),” Alfred said, coming up to hug you. Dick stole your duffel and placed it in the backseat.

Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you blinked them away. “Don’t let him take me,” you whispered desperately. Your stomach twisting at the thought of leaving the manor. It was your home, even if your father wasn’t here anymore.

“This is for the best, Mx. (Y/N). Give Master Dick a chance.” Alfred patted your back. “I’ll be down to visit in a few months. Time will pass by quickly.” You pulled away from him. All you could think was how you needed years to pass by quickly. Could you snap your fingers and magically become eighteen?

Dick was watching the two of you. His mouth twitched. He probably expected you to fight him again. However, you knew it wouldn’t do any good. No one was coming to save you from him and you couldn’t save yourself. Just like you couldn’t save your father.

You shivered, closing your eyes only to see your father’s head crack against the railing and his body fall. Dick’s hand magically appeared on your back to break you out of it. He rubbed gently as he talked to Alfred about last minute details. You hated that he could help you and you despised all the memories he kept bringing back. They were good memories about the year he raised you, but painful only because Dick abandoned you in the end.

“Well, we better be going. I want to get to Raleigh before nine at the latest,” Dick said, pushing you over to the car. You turned to take one last look at the manor. “Come on, honey.” Dick opened the car door.

“Quit calling me honey,” you snarled. Dick gave you a stern look. To avoid creating more tension for the long car ride, you got in without another comment. Dick shut the door gently behind you. He kept his back to you as he talked to Alfred. Alfred gave him a sad smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes. Dick climbed into the driver’s seat a moment later. He started the car and drove down the driveway. You opened your eyes to turn and take one last look at the manor. Luckily for you, you finally ran out of tears.

***

A crack of thunder boomed. You gasped, suddenly wide awake. “Dad,” you choked. You glanced around the dark room, not recognizing where you were. A light clicked on. You were blind.

“Hush, you’re okay. We’re in the motel, remember?” Dick said. You heard him climb out of his own bed to come over to you. He sat on the edge of yours, gently rubbing your back. “It’s just a thunderstorm. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Your eyes finally adjusted to let you see the crappy motel room. The memory of the awkward eight hour car ride flooded back into your mind. “Oh, okay,” you mumbled. Dick studied you, moving to run his fingers through your hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dick’s hand brushed past your temple as another headache began to blossom.

“No.” You closed your eyes. Your stomach twisted to the point where you might get sick. Suddenly, you pulled away from Dick to sprint toward the bathroom. You made it just in time to lose your dinner.

Dick was right behind you. He held back your hair, rubbing your back. When you finished, he helped you lean back against the wall. His hand lingered on your forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” he muttered mostly to himself. You closed your eyes only to feel a wet cloth against your forehead a moment later.

He cleaned up the bathroom before he helped you up and tucked you back into bed. Another crack of thunder boomed. You jumped a little, having a sudden flash of blood splattered around the room.

“If you’re seeing something, just close your eyes. It’s not there,” Dick soothed, running his fingers through your hair again once you laid down. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

A few weeks ago, this would have sent you into a rage and you would have attacked him. Now, you were too tired. Perhaps Dick had worn you done enough to accept that he was here to stay and there was nothing you could do about it. You gave up. He had already taken you from your home. No one was going to help you. Before you drifted back to sleep, you imagined that Dick’s fingers were your father’s and everything was simply a bad dream.

***

You knew it would come back to bite you. When Dick was in such a cheerful mood the next morning, you should have known. You should have done something to ruin his mood, but you didn’t and now you suffer from your lack of preparation.

He hadn’t stopped talking for the first five hours of the drive. Dick told you about the house, his circus, memories of when he was Robin, his times with the Teen Titans, etc. He also told you about how many of his Titan friends lived near him and how it’s like a family and how you should feel like you can count on them if you need something.

The only good thing to come from this endless chatter was it gave you an excuse not to say anything. At most, you just had to nod your head.

Finally Dick stopped at a gas station for a pit stop, and you escaped into a handicapped bathroom. You sighed. The silence felt wonderful. You splashed water on your face. Just when you finished drying off your face, your phone rang. It was Damian.

“Hello?” you answered hesitantly. Damian never called you. Part of you hoped he was calling to say he magically got custody of you and you could come back to Gotham to be Robin again.

“(Y/N),” Damian yawned into the phone. “I was told by Pennyworth that I should call you to ‘check up on you’ as it were.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, disappointed, but not surprised. “Hey, how do you shut Dick up?”

Damian hummed. “I wouldn’t recommend a violent approach, since that hasn’t worked for you before. Grayson tends to get more touchy and annoying afterwards regardless.”

“Yes, I noticed.” You glanced around the bathroom, wondering if you could sneak out a window and run away. Sadly, there was only one tiny window and it was too small for you to get through.

“You could try telling him to shut up, but then he’ll make that face,” Damian sighed. The face he was talking about is Dick’s hurt face that he makes when he’s trying to be nice and you shut him down. It’s hard not to feel like garbage when he gives you that face.

Your eyes rolled to the ceiling. “So I’m not going to get him to shut up, am I?”

“No, probably not. I suppose you could try putting your earbuds in. Maybe he’ll get a hint?” Damian yawned again. You could hear him moving around on his end.

The question you wanted to ask him was on the tip of your tongue. You debated whether you should ask, not wanting Damian to simply hang up the phone. Finally, you decided to just say it. “Damian, why did you let Dick take me?”

Damian was quiet for a long time. “TT, it’s for the best.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you demanded, rubbing your temple as another headache pounded away. You were getting tired of all these headaches.

“(Y/N), I don’t think you understand the gravity of your actions.” Damian sounded angry. You tensed. “You broke Father’s one rule. The one he held throughout his life and to make it worse, he died the night you broke that rule. You murdered Bane, and by default, what our father stood for.” Damian’s voice got harsher. It was unrecognizable. “You can not be Robin again without disgracing Father’s legacy. None of us will let you do that. That’s why you’re going to live with Grayson.”

It was like getting punched in stomach repeatedly. You wanted to say how hypocritical he was being. Damian killed lots of people, although maybe not as recently. However, all you could do was hang up the phone. You cried softly to yourself, sinking to the floor.

Damian could be cruel, but you knew he was right. If he was still alive, your father would never forgive you for the life you took. Taking a deep breath, you got control of yourself. You quickly cleaned up your face, knowing you couldn’t stay in here much longer or Dick will come looking for you. He probably was already worried you were sick or something.

You exited the bathroom. A older man gave you a funny look. You blushed, but kept moving on. Dick was outside sitting on the hood of the car, munching on a slice of pizza. You swallowed hard. Your head still pounded away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dick said, studying you as you walked past him. “You okay? You were in there a long time.”

“I’m fine.” You opened your door to find a plastic bag in your seat. Dick saw your questioning look.

“I got you some stuff. It’s close enough to lunch, so I figured we’ll just count this as our lunch stop.” You nodded before getting into the car. It was hot, but you kept the door shut. Dick stayed on the hood of the car, still eating his pizza. You were going to set the bag down without looking at it, but curiosity won out.

Inside you found a packaged sandwich, a bottle of water, and a chocolate bar. Your heart ached when you also saw the latest issue of your favorite magazine as well as a postcard. Dick moved, finishing his pizza and taking a drink of water. You took out the postcard before finding your gaze drifting over to watch Dick. He closed his eyes, leaning back to enjoy the sun for a moment.

You bit your lip to stop it from trembling. Damian’s words echoed in your head. If what Damian said was true, and everyone hated you for dishonoring your father’s legacy, why would Dick take you in? Shouldn’t he hate you too? It wasn’t like you made it easy for him. Why would he put up with you? He could refuse custody. You wondered where you would have gone if Dick didn’t take you in.

Dick glanced back at you, sensing your eyes on him. You flinched and quickly looked down at the postcard. It was a standard postcard, but it had a pretty landscape on it. A minute later, Dick’s door opened. A cool breeze hit you, ruffling your hair. You heard him get in before starting the car. Your eyes stayed on the postcard.

“I figured you could send it to Alfred. He’d like to hear from you. Maybe you could reassure him that we’re not just eating junk food,” Dick said, watching you. The car began to cool as the AC started working.

“Okay,” you whispered, swallowing past a lump in your throat. Alfred probably hated you too. That’s why he didn’t let you stay with him either.

Dick sighed before backing out of the parking spot and driving back onto the road. You put the postcard away.

“Why don’t you eat something?” Dick said softly after a moment of silence. “We got about another four hours left.”

You hummed, looking out the window. The car was quiet for several minutes. You were thankful for it.

Of course, it couldn’t last. Dick took a breath. “Did I ever tell you about the time when Wally, Garth, Roy, Donna, and I attempted a camping trip during a hurricane?” He kept rambling on. You half listened, watching the landscape go by and counting down the minutes until you could get out of the car.

***

Dick pulled the car into the driveway of a dark blue little house. The other houses on the block were about the same size, although different colors. “If you look over there, you can see the top of the big tent. This town was basically created when I moved Haly’s winter home here. Although, we find we make a pretty good profit staying here year round, we do take it on the road once and a while,” Dick said as he parked the car.

Had you gone to heaven? Could it be that you were finally here and you could get away from the incessant talking? You stepped out of the car once he turned off the engine. It was muggy and hot. Nothing like Gotham. You stretched. Dick kept talking, but you stopped listening to focus on your stretches. Two days in the car made everything stiff particularly your left calf. You’ll have to make sure you stretch it more than normal until it loosened.

“Hey Dick, you’re finally back,” a red headed man said, jogging over from next door. “We missed you.” Dick and the man shared a man hug. You stared at the two. Your gut twisted with a sense of dread.

“Hey Roy.” Dick smiled before turning to you. You did your best to look disinterested. “Roy, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Roy Harper. Roy is in charge of security for Haly’s.”

“Hi, kid.” Roy gave you a partial wave. You just nodded at him. Roy stared back at you before whispering something to Dick. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffel from the backseat.

“(Y/N), why don’t you head in?” Dick tossed you the keys. You caught them easily. “You can find your room. It’s upstairs on the left.”

Without saying anything, you headed to the house. The men were still talking behind you, but you couldn’t hear them. It’s just as well. Nothing good comes from whispering like that.

The door opened to the kitchen, which was bigger than you thought it would be. You followed it into the living room, eyeing the Flying Graysons poster that hung over the TV. The sight of it made you sigh. “This is like a prison,” you mumbled before heading upstairs.

Your room faced over the backyard. You sat down on the bare mattress to look out the window with your duffel beside you. Lost in your thoughts, you wished more than anything that your dad was still alive. You opened your duffel and pulled out your Robin suit.

Alfred must have cleaned it, because the blood was gone. You pressed it into your face, breathing in the clean scent of leather and armor. No one said you couldn’t bring it with you. If you didn’t, it would have just sat down in the unused batcave. You earned this suit. It was one of the most precious things your father had ever given you.

You started to sob, unable to stop it. Damian was right. You tarnished your father’s legacy. Despite the years you trained and slaved to finally be Robin, you were the one who got him killed and broke his one rule. You didn’t deserve this suit anymore. You didn’t deserve anything good anymore. The rest of your life should be punishment for the life you took and the one you didn’t save.

With your face pressed into your suit, you didn’t hear Dick and Roy come in with boxes from the car until it was too late.

“Roy, just leave the rest of the boxes in the living room,” Dick whispered to Roy, setting his box down. Roy put down his box before escaping from the room. You tensed as the floor creaked. The bed sank beside you. Dick’s arm wrapped around you. He pulled your suit out of your grasp and tossed it away. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo. I promise.” His fingers ran through your hair. You cried into his chest, because there was no other option.

Time passed. Eventually, you calmed down, shaking violently in Dick’s arms. He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll go bring your bedding and make up the bed. You should take a nap.” You pulled away from him. Your arms crossed, feeling exposed from the outburst.

The truth was you were willing to make this work with Dick. You could live out these years in peace until you turned eighteen. Then, you could go home to the manor, even though no one would be there, but maybe that’s was your punishment. Forever alone.

However, your eyes followed Dick as he quickly scooped up your Robin suit. “Where are you going with that?” you snapped. Dick kept walking out of the room only turning to face you once he reached the doorway.

“You can’t keep this, (Y/N).” Dick gave you a stern look. “You weren’t supposed to bring this with you. I thought Alfred discussed this with you. You are not Robin anymore and you won’t be again.”

“Give it back,” you growled, climbing over the bed to stare him down. “You can’t take it away from me.”

Dick’s expression hardened. “Actually, I can. I’m your guardian. Believe me, (Y/N), this is for your own good, even if you can’t see it now.” He started to shut the door. “I’ll be back with your bedding.”

You lost it. That promise for peace disappeared in smoke. You sprinted at him, screaming profanities. Dick shut the door before you could reach him. You ran straight into the door with a bang. The door handle wouldn’t move. Dick was holding it from the other side.

“I hate you, Dick! All you ever do is hurt me! I hope you burn in hell and I never see you again!” You pulled at the handle, but it didn’t open. “I hate you! I hate you!” A primal scream escaped you, bleeding your rage and pain into the air. You gave up on the door, giving it one swift kick. “Don’t you dare come in here again! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?! I’ll kill you!”

Your screams were only met with silence. It was kinda soothing. Your throat was raw as you sank down onto the floor. The floor was hard on your back. You stared up at the ceiling. The pain and rage were eating you alive. Now, you had a mission. You would make Dick’s life a living hell until he let you go. He took the last piece you had of your dad, and he was not going to get away with it.

***

You spent the night on the floor. The bedding never came, which probably best, because you would have made good on that death threat. After all, you had already ruined everything. What’s another sin? You had nothing left to lose.

It was almost ten in the morning when someone knocked on your door. “If that’s you, Dick. I told you to go to hell,” you hissed.

“It’s not Dick.” Your door opened to reveal Donna Troy with a tray of food. The smell of the food reached you, and your stomach rumbled. “Hi, I’m Donna. Dick had to go take care of some things, so he asked me to come by.” She entered your room and set the tray on floor next to you. “You should eat.”

You eyed the tray, willing yourself not to eat. “No, thanks,” you said coldly. Donna looked at you until you met her eye. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Well, I’ll leave that here anyway. You can eat when you’re hungry.” She turned to look at the bare mattress. “We should make your bed. Sleeping on the floor will mess up your back.”

Donna left to grab your bedding. You eyed the food tray before stealing a quick bite. Fine, you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, but maybe you could eat. The food was quickly inhaled by you. You couldn’t stop yourself. Donna came back to an empty tray.

She gave you a little smile. “Why don’t you bring that tray to the kitchen and bring up your other boxes?” You slowly got up. Your back did hurt from sleeping on the floor. Damn her for being right. Donna began to make your bed. You escaped downstairs, studying the walls as you went. Dick had to have some kind of secret room in here where he kept his old Nightwing suit. He had to put your Robin suit in there.

You set the tray by the sink in the kitchen. Something caught your eyes. A little unevenness in the wall paint by the front door. You looked around to make sure Dick or someone wouldn’t suddenly appear. Silently, you approached the spot and prodded around until you heard a click. The wall slid open to reveal a control panel with a mini keyboard.

“Yes,” you whispered. You typed in his name. Nothing. Different variations of his name and alter egos. Nothing. You tried the name of his circus, his parent’s names, names of his friends. Nothing worked. “Damn it.” You bit your lip when you heard Donna walking down the steps. Quickly, you hit the spot to hide the panel again before busying yourself by washes dishes.

Donna came beside you and started drying the dishes. “We should finish getting your room organized after this,” she said. You just focused on scrubbing away at the plate. “Then I thought we could go for a walk and I could show you around.”

You nodded stiffly, eyeing the part of the wall. The password had to something personal, but what?

***

The day with Donna dragged on slowly. Eventually, closer to dinner time, you got a chance to come up with ideas for the password. It had to be something important. You scribbled down ideas in a notebook while Donna made a salad to go along with dinner. Dick was supposed to bring home the main meal.

“I’m home,” Dick called as he came through the door. You tensed from your seat on the couch, not looking up. The smell of pizza floated through the air. Your stomach rumbled slightly.

“Hi, Dick,” Donna said. The pizza box was set onto the table. You shivered slightly when you heard Dick move closer to Donna.

“How did it go today?” he whispered, so softly you almost didn’t hear.

Donna hummed. “I couldn’t get them to talk, but otherwise pretty good.” The weight of Dick’s gaze fell on you. You wrote ‘asshat’ as one of the potential passwords. It made you smile, even though it was highly unlikely.

Dick sighed before the floor creaked as he approached you. You quickly shut your notebook. He sat down beside you, leave a generous amount of space between you.

The silence grew out for a long time. Donna watched the two of you from the kitchen. “Are we okay?” Dick asked softly. You stole a quick glance at him to find him making that face. The ‘I’m trying so hard and you’re being so mean’ face. You felt the cold rock that you imagined your heart to be melt away.

“Sure, whatever,” you grumbled, tapping your pen against the cover of the notebook. Maybe letting him think everything was okay would be a good thing. It would give you time to figure out the password.

Dick grinned. Suddenly, your face was in his chest as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Good. I just want you to be happy, kiddo.” He kissed the top of your head. “I love you so much.”

You tensed at his words, remembering when you were four and you heard those words from him all the time. A lump grew in your throat. Damn him, he was playing dirty. “Whatever,” you choked out.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m sure you’re hungry,” Dick said cheerfully, pulling away from you with your hand in his. You kept your notebook firmly in your free hand. Donna was watching you. From the look in her eye, you knew she knew you weren’t really okay. However, you forced yourself to be pleasant if only to give yourself opportunities to get into Dick’s secret room.

***

Weeks passed and you settled into a routine. You woke up at five in the morning to go on a run. This was a quiet time for you to collect your thoughts. Dick would be up by the time you came back, waiting in the kitchen for you. Then, you both would have cereal together in which Dick spent the whole time talking about his day.

Then it was a toss up. Some days, Dick dragged you to work with him or let you stay home. During the days you stayed home, you worked on figuring out his password. So far, you went through four sheet of notebook paper, but still had no luck. You didn’t realized this until looking back, but your obsession with Dick’s password made your headaches go away.

No matter what you did during the day, you and Dick would have dinner. You took turns, since you were taught to cook by Alfred and Dick had little to no skill in the kitchen. Once everything was cleaned up, Dick would kiss your head and send you off to bed. During those times, you knew he was going into his secret room. It burned you that he thought he could keep it a secret from you.

“So I was thinking we could have a little barbecue,” Dick said over a dinner of stove top mac and cheese and frozen vegetables. It had been Dick’s night to cook. You gave him a blank look, but he continued, staying upbeat. “That way you can get to know people your age.”

“Are you trying to make me make friends?” You narrowed your eyes at him. It wasn’t like you never tried to make friends. You did when you were younger, but those friendships didn’t last and once you began training to be Robin, they became unimportant.

Dick grinned at you. “You make it sound like I’m making you clean the house or something,” he laughed.

“That would be preferable.” You took some satisfaction when his smile faded slightly.

“Sometimes you remind me so much of your brother.” Dick looked back down at his food.

“That’s insulting, Never say that again,” you replied, suddenly losing interest in your food. You remembered Damian telling you how you ruined your father’s legacy and your hand shook slightly. Things were getting better, but you could feel it slipping back. Dick looked up at you, surprised and confused.

“Did something happen between you and Damian?” Dick studied you worriedly.

“No,” you snapped, moving your food around your plate.

Dick bit his lip. “Well, anyway. I think we can throw it this weekend. We’ll keep it small.”

You rolled your eyes. A whole bunch of words to describe how you felt about this situation was going on your list of possible passwords. They would all be wrong, of course, but you still might try them for laughs if anything.

“Anyway, I was thinking you could make some kind of dessert for the barbecue. Alfred taught you all his secrets,” Dick chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Instead, you started to feel even sicker. Alfred didn’t want you either. You didn’t realize how much you missed Alfred until Dick said it.

“Whatever.” You got to your feet. “I’m going to lay down.” Quickly as you could, you tried to leave the room, but Dick blocked you.

“Wait, kiddo.” He laid a hand on your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed away from him and ran up into your room. Once there, you laid down on your bed and willed everything to go away for a while.

***

“So have you seen the ocean yet?” Cerdian asked. He shifted awkwardly beside you with a cup of lemonade in his hand.

“Well, Gotham was by the ocean, so yes.” You eyed him carefully. The poor boy blushed. He gave his dad, Garth aka Tempest, a long suffering look. Garth didn’t notice, too busy talking to Dick and Wally. You wondered why you didn’t just lock yourself in your room and refuse to come out.

Cerdian may not know what to say, but he was the bravest of the bunch. You see Irey, Jai, Lian, and a few others you didn’t know hanging out in a little clique. The rest hadn’t approached you and probably won’t even try.

Dick may have wanted you to make friends, but this wasn’t how to do it. None of these people wanted to be friends with you. It’s like Dick forgot Damian existed and how Damian burned down all the possibilities of any friendships with these people since he had been a jerk to them the whole time he was Robin. Of course, all Damian’s actions had been translated onto you like you didn’t have enough sins of your own.

“Hey, Cerdian. Come over here,” Irey called. Cerdian gave you a tight smile before running away. You watched him go and be welcomed into the little group. With a familiar lonely ache in your chest, you got yourself some lemonade before sitting on the back steps to look around the party. At least people seemed to be eating the brownies you made.

You were about to give up and go inside when Dick came over to you. He was already making that face again. “(Y/N), where are you going?” Dick asked, sitting down beside you. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down next to him.

“Inside.” He ran his hand through his hair, clearly annoyed with you. “This isn’t going to work.” Why did he have to make you feel bad? You hated him for it.

“You haven’t even tried, (Y/N),” Dick said sternly. You flinched. “I saw you talk to one person and that’s it.”

“No one here likes me.” You kept your face blank despite how your lips wanted to pull down into a frown at your words.

Dick blinked. “How do you know that? You can’t know that unless you talk to people.” He gestured over to the clique of kids. “Approach them, talk about something.” You must have give him a look of disbelief. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“No.” Your cheeks heated up at the very thought. “Leave me alone.” Dick sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder. You saw Wally, Donna, Roy, and Garth all staring at you as if you were a powder keg ready to blow. Maybe you were.

“Why do you have to be so much like your dad?” Dick muttered. Your eyes widened. Suddenly, you were back in the warehouse with the smell of smoke, rotting fish, and iron. There was the wet crack and you saw the flap of Batman’s cape as he fell down to the floor.

Your fist cracked against his chin. Dick stumbled off the stairs from the impact, stunned. The blood drained out of your face. Silence filled the air before you turned and ran into the house. You started toward the front door only to see Wally appear in front of you, vibrating. Other footsteps were following you. You jumped the railing on the stairs just as a hand grabbed the back of your shirt.

“No, you don’t, little monster,” Roy growled, pulled you hard enough for you to slam into the floor. You saw stars. Your leg shot out blindly and connected with his face. He swore, holding his face while you rolled to your feet only to find Donna standing in front of you. Her face was a mask of anger and protectiveness. You swallowed hard, staring up at her with wide eyes.

Wally grabbed you from behind and dragged you to your feet. He held your arms behind your back. “Don’t hurt them,” Dick said, appearing in the doorway with Garth. He was holding his jaw. You fought against Wally’s hold. All you wanted was to go to your room.

“Dick, they hurt you,” Donna said, placing one hand on your shoulder. She squeezed hard enough to hurt a little.

“I told you they were a monster. You should have left them in Gotham,” Roy groaned, still holding his nose. Your breath left your lungs at his words. You waited for Dick to say something, but he stayed quiet. It hurt that he didn’t defend you. Of course, you had just punched him in the face, but you expected him to say something.

“Yeah, I’m just a monster, a murderer. What can you expect from me?” Your voice was dangerously low. Wally tightened his grip on you. Donna did the same. Dick just studied you. “But I guess I should be asking you that. What can I expect from you, Dick? Are you going to leave me again?”

“Leave you? Honey, I’ve been here this whole time. I took you in when you didn’t have anywhere else to go, but I don’t know what to do anymore. You make this so hard,” Dick admitted, making that face at you.

Your rage erupted. You yanked against their hold on you, wanting to hurt Dick like he hurt you. “You left me! What did you think?! That you could raise me for a year and just hand me off with no regrets!” You sunk your elbow into Wally’s stomach. He groaned, but kept his hold on you. Dick looked startled. “Come on, you idiot. You honestly thought I was mad at you for years because I was jealous of Damian! Do you know me at all?!”

“Oh, kiddo,” Dick sighed, reaching out to run his fingers through your hair. You snarled at him, attempting to bite his hand.

“No, you don’t get that. You don’t just get to have me now that Dad’s dead. You don’t get leave me and expect me to just love you again. I hate you,” you hissed. Dick flinched, on the verge of tears. Good. He made you cry for a long time. It’s about time you return the favor.

Donna stepped between you and Dick. Her hand stayed on your shoulder as you attempted to wrench your wrists from Wally’s grip. Your wrists were aching, but you twist one to sink your nails into Wally’s wrist. Wally gasped, letting you go. You tried to jerk your shoulder out of Donna’s grasp, but she just held on tighter. There was going to be a bruise there in the morning.

“You both need to clear your heads,” Donna said. “I’ll take (Y/N) to their room. Dick, you stay down here, okay? I’ll be back.” Without another word, Donna grabbed you by the back of the neck and held you up the stairs. Tears stun your eyes, her fingers pinching your neck. More bruises for the morning.

She shoved you into your room. “Dick has done a lot for you. He didn’t owe you anything.” Donna towered in your doorway. You glared at her, but turned to go sit on your bed. “You should be grateful he didn’t just throw you in prison for what you did. I want you to think about that.” She slammed the door behind her. You heard the outside lock click. When had that been installed? It wasn’t there when you moved in.

Feeling like a monster, you rubbed the back of your head to feel the tender spot. The truth was Donna was wrong. Dick did owe you something. That year he raised you had been one of the best in your life. He was there all the time. He took care of you. While you loved your father, he was not the best dad. Dick was until he abandoned you and never really came back. Sure you saw him a few times a year, but it was never the same.

Dick owe you an explanation, even an apology. Though you weren’t sure you wanted that, but he had to give you something. The hurt of being abandoned doesn’t go away in a snap of the fingers. It stays with you, no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you didn’t really love him and didn’t need his love or attention.

You laid down on your bed, wincing when you hit the soft spot on the back of your head. Your shoulder, wrists, and neck throbbed. The notebook filled with passwords laid just in reach. You opened it, looking through all the words you thought would work. None of them had yet. However, you were more determined then ever now.

Rolling onto your stomach, you grabbed your phone to find the nearest airport and bought a ticket back to Gotham with your father’s credit card. It went through, meaning Lucius didn’t close the account yet. You sighed in relief before turning to work on the passwords. If you didn’t figure it out tonight, you’ll just break in and grab your suit. Then, you’d be out of here.

***

The party ended hours ago. You listened to the yard quiet down as people went home. However, there was talking coming from the living room, so you guessed Dick’s friends must still be there. You sat on your bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting until you could sneak out. Your duffel was already packed and sitting by the door. All you needed was to get your Robin suit.

It was almost ten when it finally was quiet through the whole house. You got up and crept over to the door and picked the lock. It creaked when you opened it, you froze, holding your breath. Nothing moved. You sighed in relief before grabbing your duffel and moving quietly as you could downstairs.

The living room was dark. Dick must have gone to bed. You were just about to step off the bottom step when the living room lamp clicked on, blinding you.

“Crap,” you mumbled. Your eyes adjusted to find Dick sitting in the armchair. He looked at you with a lost, hurt expression. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed past it.

“I knew you’d try to leave.” Dick got to his feet with a groan. He looked a lot older than he was in this light. “You always were a runner.” You turned away from him, trying to keep it together. “I remember you ran off on me so many times, but I usually found you before you got too far except one time.” He sighed. “You were gone for hours. We were searching everywhere until Alfred mentioned you were probably going to go somewhere familiar. That’s when it hit me. You would go to the manor.” Dick chuckled, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I found you laying in Bruce’s old bed, fast asleep.”

You frowned, remembering that day. If you were honest, you were planning to do the same thing when you left tonight. “Why are you talking about this now?”

Dick’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “I’m an idiot.” You couldn’t help, but smirk slightly. “I should have known. I should have listened. I shouldn’t have left you like that.” He turned you around. Your smirk fell from your lips when you saw the tears in his eyes. “But I was stupid.”

“You’re stupid all the time, but that doesn’t explain why you did it? Why did you leave me?” You glared back at him, every ounce of hurt resurfacing.

“Giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Dick’s hand trembled as it slid up to rest in your hair. “It wasn’t the same as Damian. Damian was my brother, he was older, but you were so young. You became my kid. I wanted more than anything to keep you when your dad came back, but I knew it was wrong. He was your dad, not me.”

Tears ran down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. “But you didn’t have to disappear. You could have been there more, so at least made sure to see me when you came to visit. I thought you hated me.”

Dick pulled you into his arms. His tears falling into your hair. “I love you so much, (Y/N). I never hated you.” You hid your face into his shoulder. “Staying away meant that Bruce could step up as your dad. I didn’t want to get in the way of that. You were always coming to me when you had a nightmare or you wanted to show off a picture you drew. Every time you passed Bruce up for me, and I saw how hurt he was.” Dick took a shaky breath. “It was wrong to leave you like that, and I hurt you more than I can ever say, but you got your dad.”

“Until I lost him.” You pulled away from Dick, narrowing your eyes. “That was dumb to leave like that. I would have gotten used to him again. I was only four. There is no quota on how many father figures one person can have.”

“No, there isn’t. I told you I was an idiot. I didn’t think it through.” He studied you, looking at you with love. “Alfred told me I was an idiot too when I told him, but you know how stubborn I am.”

You snorted, looking away. “You protesting me becoming Robin made it worse. I was finally joining the family, and you didn’t want me.”

Dick ran his fingers through your hair like he always did. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He closed his eyes. “You did get hurt.” You had a flash of the bloody knife in your hand and your father’s body on the ground. Your body started to shake, but Dick kissed your forehead to bring you out of it. “I want to show you something.” He took your hand and led you over to the spot in the wall where the panel was.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, faking surprise when the keyboard appeared. Dick rolled his eyes.

“I know you knew about this. I get alerts every time it’s gets a wrong password.” Dick smirked when you swore under your breath. You should have known better. “Did you really think my password would be asshat?”

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” you said, eyeing him carefully. Dick shook his head before typing in the password slow enough you could see it. It was your name. “You got to be kidding me.”

“You never left my heart, (Y/N), even if I wasn’t there for you.” Dick ruffled your hair. “You’re my kid.” A warm feeling of being loved filled you. You hadn’t felt that in a long time.

The secret door slid open to reveal Dick’s small office. The Nightwing suit was in the corner on display. You were shaken to your core at the sight of your Robin suit next to his. Running over, you reached out to touch the sleeve just to make sure it was okay.

“It has to stay here if you stay. You have to be retired with me,” Dick said, leaning against the door frame. You looked back at him in surprise.

“If?” You raised an eyebrow. Dick sighed, going over to his computer. He pulled up the plane ticket you purchased.

“I had a long talk with my friends and I realized you shouldn’t be forced to stay here if you’re not happy.” He turned to look at you.”I want you to be happy, (Y/N). It was always my priority, still is. If you stay, it has to be because you want to.” He closed the program and you got a glimpse at his desktop. It was a picture of you in front of the Eiffel tower, taken only about a year ago when you and your dad were on a mission in Paris. You had sent it to Alfred to let him know you were having fun. Alfred must have given it to Dick.

Your heart ached as you bit your lip to think. Ever since Dick had dragged you here, you wanted to leave and now he was letting you. Somehow, leaving didn’t feel as good anymore. You realized you didn’t want to be alone, even though something inside told you it was what you deserved.

Dick looked at you, waiting for your answer without judgement. You found yourself saying something you would have never thought you would say a hour before. “I want to stay. Please let me stay.” You ran into his arms. Dick hugged you tightly.

“Forever if you want,” Dick whispered in your ear. You could feel him smiling. “I love you so much, kiddo.”

“I love you too.” You tightened your arms around him as if he was your life line. The future no longer looked so bleak and alone.

#batfamily #batfamily imagine #nightwing #nightwing imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batfamily reader insert #batman #batman imagine

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kaaras-adaar-a · 5 years ago

Text

Remedies

Characters: Kaaras Adaar, Latika Timeline: pre Inquisition Warning: contains profanity, nudity, masturbation, adult themes, medical condition, PSAS, body dysphoric mentions (mtf character), alcoholic mention.

NOTE: I wanted to explore more of Kaaras’ condition and part of the reason why he can deal with it better than before. Latika is his company healer and a former sex worker. Please note muses =/= mod as there may be sensitive material ahead, nor do I associate myself with their opinions, religions, beliefs, etc.

He’d done all the right things. Or at least he’d thought he had. The ache in his loins sometimes lasted for hours, sometimes even all day. At times, all it took was a little touching and it would be over after he’d succumbed to orgasm. Other times, it was like fire between his legs, burning and spreading down past his knees. The pain became unbearable, and somehow he had to try and hide it. It was no wonder the qunari apostate could become moody at times. Sometimes, he felt like because of this, he just wasn’t himself at times. A saddening thought, truly.

It was in the late hours, and Kaaras had been staring at the ceiling of the room, attempting to ignore the inevitable. He’d had a long day, and he thought he’d be ready for sleep after a warm, comforting bath. Alas, the dull ache at his lower abdomen had gotten worse and worse. Sometimes, he couldn’t even maintain an erection, and sometimes when he did, he wished he couldn’t. It was a complicated relationship he had with his body, and at the best of times he still didn’t feel like he was in control. It betrayed him, and that’s what he hated most. He hated the lack of control fiercely.

Kaaras had always needed control. From a young age, he’d been finicky, he’d been organised, orientated. When he felt that slipping from his grasp, he felt the panic attacks threaten to smother him. Of course, over the years and adulthood, they had lessened, but that didn’t mean they didn’t happen. He just got better at coping. There were still days where he felt like he couldn’t breathe because something was out of his control, because he couldn’t fix and maintain it. It sounded silly, and often he got strange looks when he became flustered over something so small, but his company had gotten used to it.

Most days, Kaaras was reasonable and logical. It was a good quality to have in a leader. He was thorough and professional when it came to his work, but he was also still a person. He had his flaws and weaknesses, and over the years, his men knew what his quirks were and how to avoid getting in their way. Kaaras was also very aware of himself, and didn’t like making his personal problems anyone else’s. He tried his best to keep them to himself, and understood when he was being unreasonable.

Something that his men did not know about him, however, was his sensitivity issues. Kaaras hadn’t a name for what was wrong with him, but he knew something was different. It wasn’t normal. The painful, long erections, the awkward and random, sudden orgasms that would rattle his entire body. He had been sexually active ever since he’d left home, and he thought that perhaps he was being punished for it. Perhaps the Maker had thought he was sinning, so his premuscuity was coming back to bite him on the arse.

At first, Kaaras had thought it was just his body being overly sensitive. As a young teenager, awkward erections had always been something he’d dealt with, but as he got older, they had become more controlled. Until he left home. Then it all got worse. Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the guilt, or maybe it was something else entirely. He was far too embarrassed to go to a healer over it, and the only person who knew about what he suffered had been his past lover.

Kaaras shut the thought out of his head. He didn’t want to think about Kaariss’stenn. Instead, he’d blown half the candles out of the room to set the mood, having kicked off the sheets and removed his shirt. Every time he thought he was almost there, ready to fall off the precipice, it got away from him. He tried something new, a new position, touching different areas, having different thoughts, even changing the pace.

Maybe something was wrong, maybe something was in the back of his mind, and it just wasn’t right. So Kaaras had ended up removing all of his clothes, now bare naked in the room. He’d moved locations, he tried to close his eyes and think about something he found exceptionally arousing--anything!

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it had to have been over an hour or maybe even two--time seemed to get away from him in moments like this. Yet he still wasn’t satisfied. He hated this! He grew angry, desperate, and tears almost fell from his eyes. It was one way or the other, hardly an in between. Some days were better than others, and he even felt like a normal person for a while, until it all came back again. In waves, it seemed. He didn’t know what could help.

Now standing, he leant against the wall with one hand, his other moving at a rapid and painful pace against his cock. Maybe if he went fast enough, he’d not lose sight of his orgasm. Spoken too soon.

With a desperate whine, Kaaras gritted his teeth, a fist hitting the wall. So close, and yet it was gone again, and he felt like he could have died then and he wouldn’t have cared. Why did this have to happen to him? He hated it, he hated being around the people he cared for and all of a sudden falling victim to his body. He hated being in the middle of a serious contract and all of a sudden his body would go stiff and his knees would buckle, his legs almost falling out from underneath him. It was a miracle he’d learned at all to keep a straight face. Sometimes, he wasn’t convinced he had. His own embarrassment was enough to make him stay in control, he supposed, but even then, some days his composure failed him. He had to lie and say he had a stomach ache or something else, just so people wouldn’t question why he was doubling over.

He paced the room, sweat covering his body from the workout he had given himself. His hair hung in loose strands around his forehead, a hand running through short, blonde locks that were just as sweaty as his skin.

Fingers curled and knuckles whitened as he drew his fist back, ready to punch the wall. He would have if he had lost more control, but he stopped just shy of the thick wood. Instead, Kaaras found himself leaning over the basin in the humble room, panting and scrunching his eyes closed, screaming to himself inside his head. His cock was hard, tender, raw from the constant amount of friction. The oil he used only soothed the pain and no longer gave him pleasure. What he would do to feel satisfied, to feel sated. He missed the alcohol, the bitter taste upon his tongue. It helped, it helped ease his body and his muscles. Hell, half the time he forgot he even had a cock when he was drinking.

It was hard not to continue, to just pick up a bottle and down it. But he remembered how far he’d come, how much better he was. He couldn’t risk it, not even for this.

Sweat dripped down his nose and fell into the basin. There was only so much his magic could do. He was no healer, but a little bit of soothing ice could help, could get rid of the swelling, the pain that radiated all down his thighs and made them taut as they cramped. Right now, his entire body felt that way, but the bath he’d already had just reminded him of how long he’d been in here, been trying to get rid of the persistent arousal that taunted him.

The water was cold, the aroma of the oils used having weakened from their strong perfume when he’d just gotten inside the tub. Maybe the cold water would help, but he couldn’t stand the idea of getting back into water that he’d already bathed in--despite how sweaty he was. Another quirk, another factor of stress. Sometimes it all felt too much.

“One more time…” he murmured to himself, bringing a shaken hand to his face to wipe it down. Was it the desire for the drink that caused him to shake, or was it the anger and desperation that surged through him? Maybe it was both, or maybe it was the fact that his limbs felt so weak from being unsatisfied time and again. He couldn’t even tell if it was sweat or tears that made his cheeks damp now, and he moved over to the bed, sitting down. He breathed, concentrating on taking them deep and slow, filling his lungs with the cool air. Despite the room temperature, and his nudity, he still felt hot, and the sweat over his body probably should have made him cold if anything.

With both hands, he moved them over his thighs slowly, gently trying to release some of the tension that was keeping his thigh muscles tight. It was something his former lover had taught him, something to relax him, to hopefully get his muscles to ease, and in turn, perhaps it would help with his constant erection.

After a while, when his breathing had eased, he moved a hand back to his firm member. It hurt to touch by now, but there was little he could do about the pain. He had to grit his teeth and bear it. For a moment, he could feel the pleasure hidden deep beneath the pain, focusing on it as he bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. It’s all he could do, try and focus, try and work his way up from the bottom and hopefully he wouldn’t lose it again.

A soft moan of need left his lips as his hand moved faster, ignoring the burn. Closer and closer he became, muscles tightening in his lower stomach once more as the pressure began to rise. Yes, maybe this would be it, maybe this would be the time he finally came undone.

“Fuck!” Kaaras picked up the towel that was beside him and threw it across the room in a fit of anger, except it did not hit the floor. Somehow, and he didn’t know how, the door had opened. The place was old, run down, and when he’d hit the wall, the force must have shaken the lock undone.

Instantly, Kaaras found himself in a very awkward and vulnerable state, taking his pillow and quickly covering it over his crotch.

“Maker’s breath, what the hell are you doing?” he gasped.

The intruder was Latika, the company healer. A former whore of Kirkwall, she had seen her fair share of naked men--qunari included. However, she was not expecting to see her captain in such a flustered and… unhealthy looking state. Especially if he were meant to be enjoying himself.

“Well, your door was ajar, and I was going to ask you about my stock order, but… ah… if you’re too busy?” Latika was a city elf, dark red hair and a deep, husky voice. She may have been a whore, but she was treated as professionally as any other member of the company. A blood mage, but a skilled one, and one that had saved many of their arses and broken bones when they’d come back from dangerous jobs. She’d earned her respect, and if anyone had anything to say to her, she wasn’t afraid to rip their balls from between their legs.

Kaaras’ shoulders tensed. He must have looked a mess. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair was dishevelled and the expression across his face was one of pure angst. “It’s not… it’s not what it looks like.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a hot flush spreading to his face.

“Mmm, not to call you a liar, honeybunch, but I spent years at brothels. I’m aware of what a man playing with his cock looks like.”

Kaaras’ long ears lowered. “I’m not… playing with it,” he muttered, embarrassed.

Latika moved into the room, unfazed by his nudity, nor letting her gaze linger too long. She respected Kaaras. He’d taken her in when she was fleeing Kirkwall, just before the mage rebellion had gotten worse. Being a mage had already been dangerous, but she had finally been sniffed out, and when she had, she had to go, unless she wished to be killed. Tranquillity wasn’t even an option for blood mages. She’d run into the qunari man and his friends with nothing but the clothes on her body. He’d bathed her, given her food and a bed to sleep in for the night. With nowhere to go, he asked what she could do, and she’d told him: she could heal. From then on, she had worked as a healer within the company he’d been in previously, and then followed Kaaras when he decided he could no longer be a part of the Ralshokra.

The elf had spent her years in the brothel cleaning the men and women, tending to their wounds when patrons got too violent. She’d started off selling her own body as a young man, many years ago, and much had changed about her. She had known about her abilities since she was about eight years of age. Elves in the alienage were already treated poorly, so she got coin the only way she knew she could. Oddly enough, there were plenty of patrons out there who loved a woman with a cock.

“What would you call it then, my dear?” she asked, holding a few pieces of parchment and picking up the towel that had come hurtling her way. She offered it to him, noticing the distressed look. She’d also heard him curse beforehand--not something Kaaras did often, if she recalled correctly. She hadn’t seen the worst of Kaaras’ behaviour of course, but she was aware that he had abused alcohol in the past. It was no secret to them.

She then looked at him more seriously, putting the parchment down onto the desk and folding her arms. “Honey, if there’s anyone in this company you can relax around while being in your birthday suit, it’s me. I’ve seen enough naked men and women and everything in between to not mind. You’ve got nothing I’ve never seen before.” She waved a hand dismissively as she said so.

Kaaras still blushed, but the pain from his unsated erection was still unbearable. He’d never talked to anyone outside of Kaariss’stenn about his issues, but Latika was a healer, one who had, conveniently enough, worked with sex workers.

He felt disgusting, he felt wrong, and every part of him was screaming not to open up. What if she thought he was a pervert? He certainly felt it when it happened in public. What would she think of him? He didn’t mean to think of her as being judgemental, but his own insecurities screamed at him, telling him to keep quiet and just say it was nothing.

“You’ve certainly got to be the most distressed person I’ve ever seen in a moment of pleasure--”

“It’s not pleasure!” Kaaras snapped. He instantly bit his tongue the moment it came flying out of his mouth. He was tired, no, he was utterly exhausted! He was in pain, and if only it was pleasure he was feeling, then his entire night would have been a relief.

Latika’s lips parted, surprised by the sudden outburst. Kaaras could be orderly, but he was never harsh unless something called for it, or he was upset. She looked at him, flushed and sweaty as he was with the pillow still covering himself.

“Alright…” She walked to the door and flicked the lock on it, giving them some privacy before she turned back to face him. “Out with it, then. You look like total shit, you’re frustrated and I may be no scholar when it comes to medicine, but I’ve worked enough miracles with healing to know that something’s clearly wrong.” She jutted her chin in the direction of the pillow. “You’ve got a sexual issue? Got an infection? Easy enough fix so long as you give me the symptoms.”

Kaaras lowered his eyes, a hand running through his sweaty hair to try and brush it from his forehead. “It’s… not an infection,” he muttered, swallowing thickly. He felt humiliated by this, but his outburst at least deserved an explanation. He didn’t like getting angry, especially when people didn’t deserve it. She was just trying to help him.

“I… I… have a problem.” His blush couldn’t have gotten any darker if it tried.

Latika could have snorted. “We’ve all got those, honey. You’re going to have to be more specific if you want my help. The workers used to come to me when they had all sorts. And… they had all sorts.” She raised her brows at him, as if that would make him feel more comfortable. Kirkwall was a filthy place, and the people even filthier at times. They came in from the streets wanting a girl to hook up with and slap around. Some of the patrons were nice, some of them even romantic at times, but most of them enjoyed the power they had over their ‘subjects’.

“Whatever’s wrong, you know I’m here to help, not judge.”

It only helped a little to calm his nerves, but right now, he’d do anything to get rid of the ache that still burned beneath the pillow. He had to speak up if he wanted any kind of assistance, and Maker, he prayed that she could at least do something for him. She’d mended his broken bones before, stopped bleeding and healed bruises, but he knew that despite her abilities, even she wasn’t bold enough to try something as delicate as using blood magic on anyone’s private parts. If she was confident, he knew she would have changed hers long ago so suit her identity.

“I’m sensitive, but… more than others.” He didn’t know how to explain it, so he took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “Some days, it won’t go down, but it doesn’t matter how much I touch it, it doesn’t… finish.” He felt like an idiot speaking the way he was, but he’d never learned to talk about himself, let alone his body, especially sexually. He’d always been such a private person, even as a child--more so after his father had died. He didn’t know how to talk to his mother or sister about this, and didn’t want to either. He was different from them, they couldn’t help him in this situation even if they wanted to.

“Others… it just takes a mere touch and I’m done… I can’t stop it, it just…” He shook his head, feeling disgusted in himself. “It’s been like this for years now. I thought it would just go away one day. The alcohol helped but… I can’t go back on that.”

“No, and you wouldn’t want to,” she reassured, moving to his desk where she leant herself upon it. “So you have frequent erections. How many are we talking?”

Kaaras couldn’t look her in the eye, he felt like a freak. “It depends. Some days I feel normal… maybe a few, four or five which just go away on their own. Others, I feel like I’m on fire all day. Sometimes I don’t even get… hard, it just… happens.”

She’d never seen it in person, but the men and women of brothels talked. And word spread fast. She thought it was bullshit, if she were honest, the first time she’d heard it. But not with Kaaras. Although what she’d heard was a little different. For one, it was a woman she’d heard. Apparently she said she could have up to hundreds of orgasms every day, so she was a great worker. But that was the gossip that was spread from patrons versus the actual workers. Workers said she was in pain, suffering many times but working and selling her body in brothels was the only way to satisfy the hunger. Some even though she was possessed. Kaaras was a mage, but… from what she knew, he was hardly possessed by a desire demon or some kind of hunger demon. Besides, she’d know, considering her own magical abilities. The use of blood magic did sever her ties to the Fade more and more, but it was demons she often had made deals with to save her friends.

“I will admit, none of the people I worked with had such conditions, Kaaras, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a first for everything. After all, even the Blight started with one,” she pointed out.

That didn’t make him feel comforted, and it probably showed as he frowned, curling in on himself as he sat there.

“Look, as someone with a cock, I can give you a few pointers, perhaps even remedies I could work. I know many for sensitivity issues. Ones to stop you from getting stiff as well.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “There were rumours of a woman once, another one of the girls, though not in Kirkwall. They said she had hundreds of men a day to sate her sexual hunger. Of course they’d say that of a woman, though.”

Kaaras looked at her, but he didn’t argue. She was right. Be damned if a woman enjoyed sex, but a man could get away with anything.

There was a breath that left his lips at the idea that she may be able to help. Anything was better than nothing. He didn’t care what it took, he’d try it. There were some days he honestly wished he hadn’t a cock at all, but he knew he was being over dramatic. On good days, it didn’t bother him at all, and he missed being intimate with someone he cared about. One day, he may be able to have that again… If he was lucky.

“If it’s alright with you, my dear, I would like to discuss this further with you. Of course, you look a bit like shit right now, so I figure some sleep might do you well. I can quickly make something up for you so you can get a good night's rest. It might not get rid of your pesky boner, but you will at least sleep through it, and hopefully in the wee hours of morning, it’ll have dealt with itself.”

Looking down at himself, he could have honestly picked her up and hugged her if he wasn’t completely nude and sweaty. Or cried on the spot. Maybe both. The distraction had at least taken some of the pain away, or maybe it was just in the back of his mind for now. He was sure when she left, everything would come back, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. For now, he was thankful.

“I… I would appreciate it, Latika. Th-thank you. I’m sorry I’m not very confident, and not much help with expressing myself.” He was private. He couldn’t help it.

She nodded, unfolding her arms. “I can’t promise I can heal you. You know my feelings on any magic concerning anything below the belt. But I can hopefully ease the discomfort and maybe we can both find out new things in the future, hm?”

“I honestly don’t care what it is,” he said almost too desperately. “Anything to get my life back. I’d kiss you if it meant that could be now, or tomorrow even.”

Latika let out a husky laugh. “Darling, I don’t mix business and pleasure anymore,” she smirked. “Get yourself cleaned up, and by the time you’ve done that, I’ll be back with a draught for you, sweet.”

Before she could go, Kaaras stood, the pillow still at his crotch. “I mean it. I do… Thank you for trying, at least. I… I don’t know how to talk about this, or where we go from here, but if there is any way you can help, even if a little… it’s a blessing.”

It hurt to see that he meant that, from the tone of his voice to the expression on his face. Clearly this was something the man had been struggling with for some time. She’d never have thought it, with how in control he always seemed to be. Perhaps there was a lot more to Kaaras than any of them knew, but he’d always been private. She supposed some of that made sense now. Some of the frustration and mood swings, too. Who’d have thought...

“You’re sweet, Captain Adaar, but don’t forget I owe you more than this for taking me in. This pleasure is all mine. I only hope it works for you. Now, get dressed before your pillow shows any more of that qunari meat.”

Kaaras looked down and readjusted the pillow, feeling himself heat as a blush spread over his face once more. Latika was out the door and closing it behind her. He was still in agony, but if there was any sense of hope that he’d ever be rid of this pain? It was now.

Latika returned with a few remedies and teas by the time he’d managed to wipe himself down and dress. Looking semi-presentable was the best he could do currently, otherwise he’d be cleaning up for hours in his frustrated state.

“This isn’t everything, only what I have on me currently,” she explained. “When we’re back in the heart of the city, I’ll look around, have a chat with some of the merchants, and then I can show you what you need and when to take it.”

Holding up a small phial, she handed it to him. “This is for your sleep tonight. Take it now.” He did, and she took the empty phial back. “Now, tuck yourself in and we’ll speak more on the morn.”

The goodbye was brief, but the thank you was genuine. Kaaras couldn’t even remember the pain as the sleeping potion took over and he entered the world of dreams. At least, for now, he was at peace.

#My fics #Kaaras Adaar #cw: nudity #cw: disability #PSAS #Remedies #My art

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livelovelaug-h · 6 years ago

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No Take me

Request: hi!! dean x reader; reader & the boys get captured by a monster/monsters (your choice) they torture all of them and they say to dean that he has to choose if they kill the reader or sam and etccc;

A/n: hope you like this let me know! And enjoy!! Thanks again for the request. @moonlight-on-her-skin

"So what a vampire and a werewolf?” you asked totally stumped at the crime scene right in front of your eyes. There was a body with a heart out of it with scratches and one body where the blood was completely drained of blood.

“I think so. why do people still go to cabins with all the weird stuff they hear that happens?” Dean says. You nod along. It's true.

“possibly the vampire and werewolf were Lovers?” Sam questioned.

"doesn't that remind you of -"

Dean: "don't say it."

Sam: “Alright let's go research.”

~~~

You and the boys researched, you had a pretty good feeling who it was. "The only thing we have is apparently that bear attack from last week was most probably not a bear attack." You tell Dean as he enters the room. it had been 5 hours of non helping research.

Dean just rubs his hand over his face taking a deep breath and sighing.

"so we can at least go tonight around the area and see what happens." Sam says.

"sounds like a deal. Let's pack."

After you guys packed, went to eat for dinner, y'all Headed over to where you guys were ready to stay in the woods.

You guys were standing around For awhile, after a long time you seen something move out the corner of your eye. Along with another one.

“There!” Sam whispered. You guys chased the things down, eventually they ran into a small shack.

Dean: “Okay we can trap them in there. are you ready?” both you and Sammy nodded.

“Come on out we seen you run in there.” nothing happened for about a minute so Dean kicked the door down your guns blazing.

Cautiously you guys walked around getting ready for the fight that was waiting to happen.

Out of nowhere there was three figures charging at you guys, one for each of you. The fight went on for a little while. You almost won but then they punched you in the face and gut, making you slide down the wall. She kicked you repeatedly in the abdomen. You spit up some blood and when you tried to crawl away she stomped on your ankle making you give out. "SON OF A BITCH." You looked over and Dean was losing his fight and Sam was just like you; already lost. The girl smashed your head into the floor a couple of times

Smash

. The fight ended when the girl spoke up; she must be the leader you thought.

“Okay stop. I think they've had enough for now. Tie them up.”

“Why are you doing this??”

“You don't remember me.?” no one says anything.

“of course not." You all looked and were confused.

Dean: "yeah well we got rid of a vampire werewolf relationship before. You don't ring any bells"

“yeah you killed my mom and her werewolf boyfriend. and then you left me alone, because you never came back.”

“The house was on fire how did you-”

“How did I make it out alive? I wouldnt be alive if it weren't for these people”

“because they turned you.”

“Bingo. These two came the next morning. So I guess you never actually did get rid of that case and I guess you never will.”

“look i'm sorry I didn't know you were there. But it's not Sam and y/n's faults. Just let them go and you can have me.”

“Dean no.” you mumbled.

“Sorry no can do. We're gonna let you leave so you can feel the pain and pity. But...”

She got closer to his face “you need to decide who your gonna let walk out with you and who your gonna have to sacrifice to die. Three of you and only two can leave. Tick tock.” she left the room, leaving a huge elephant in the room. You were beaten pretty badly. You knew all the things Dean did to save Sam so the best bet was for you to stay and them to leave.

“Dean there's no way I'm getting out of here anyway, just go with Sam.”

“NO! Your not staying here are you crazy!!? ”

“then what?”

“I don't know. Can you get out of your ropes Sammy?” Dean was starting to lose it. He couldn't lose any of you.

“I've been trying but I can't get anywhere. Even if we do they're gonna know we got out.”

“It's okay.” You whisper. Dean and Sam both close their eyes and sigh.

After 5 minutes the girl and the others come back in. "So who we killing today?”

Dean: “Me you take it or leave it.”

“We told you, you're not an option. Choose again”

“he's picking me.”

“y/n.” he growled.

“Dean it's the only way. I love you. It's not your fault don't hate you.”

“Perfect we finally decided.” The girl says and her friend comes over with her fangs baring out. They bend over to your neck; the werewolf just watching. "Say it Dean. Say you choose y/n."

He mouths "sorry" & you smile. "it's okay."

you felt a sharp pain in your neck indicating they did bite you. Your skin was being pulled and your blood was just leaving you. You couldn't hold it in anymore "AHHHHH."

Dean: “Stop! Please! Stooooopppp!!!” the werewolf then came over and helped rip your chest apart the last thing you remembered was Dean's screams “stoop get off her!” you saw the good memories quickly fade, like when you first met him, the laughs you two shared and the pies you guys made etc.. most importantly his lips and hands. Actually the most important things would be the small stuff he did. Like putting his hand on the small part of your back when you were leaving or him running over to open the Impala door for you. Sometimes he would actually give you foot massages too. you would miss his smile and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, the way his hand covered his mouth when he would laugh when he did. Lately he hasn't so hopefully he will soon.

Dean of course was a crying puddle. “Man she tasted good.”

“Fuck off.” even Sam was closing his eyes and crying.

“okay so he’ll stay here so we can get a running start, you'll be free soon. Well free of being tied up, and now free of a relationship too.” she smirks.

“I'm going to kill you.”

“Too late now, she's already dead. you couldn't even kill me today so we'll see cowboy. ciao.”

She left leaving Dean to more. He couldn't believe it, your body just being ripped and eaten apart. It didn't seem real or like you were there at all. After an hour and a half he let Sam & Dean go. Dean was limping but somehow he managed to kill the werewolf; he was furious. He'll get you back hopefully alongside get you the justice you need or he needs.

“I'm sorry man” Sam says.

“J-just.. don't.” When Sam and Dean got back to the hotel Mary and Jack asked “wheres y/n?” and that just broke him more.

Mary hugged him clearly understanding what he meant.

It felt like he couldn't breathe most of the time therefore Dean didn't go in his and your old room for over a week now. it would bring too much pain to him, so he used one of the extra rooms. He drank and drank but he still Remembered.

He got Rowena, Cas, Jack, and Mary even Garth to help him plan to kill those sons of a bitches.

"we got this Dean." Garth said smiling at him.

"yeah I hope so."

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meleuki · 5 years ago

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g2k me uncomfortably well

1. What is your middle name?

It’s my grandmother’s first name. I’m not gonna say what it is tho.

2. How old are you?

I am an age.

3. When is your birthday?

31st of March, same day as Angus Young hell yeah.

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Aries

5. What is your favourite colour?

Black, Purple & Red.

6. What’s your lucky number?

1,714 (long story).

7. Do you have any pets?

I have one little dog, he’s cute asf.

8. Where are you from?

Australia.

9. How tall are you?

5′4/5′5, I can’t tell most of the time.

10. What shoe size are you?

US 9 or 10

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

um like 12, but I only wear about 5 of them regularly.

12. What was your last dream about?

some dude turning into this cannibalistic animal type thing & me becoming friends with two ghost boys who murdered a bunch of people, and then got murdered and having to figure the rest of the case out for them. (supernatural has kinda been rubbing off on my dreams lmao.)

13. What talents do you have?

I can play guitar and piano. I can cook pretty good?? I also have a talent for being a dumb ass.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I don’t believe I am.

15. Favourite song?

atm, Enter Sandman by Metallica

16. Favourite movie?

IT (2017), or, Scream.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

oh golly, I don’t know actually. I just think I need someone who has some confidence, a kind soul and an open mind, and is able to put a smile on my face even when i dont want it. So far, I haven’t met someone who has caught my eye, but i hope one day I do.

18. Do you want children?

Yes, YES.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

no I don’t. I want one in a garden area type thingy.

20. Are you religious?

i’m not sure.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

yeah like 4-5 times.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

nope, I don’t plan on it.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

I haven’t.

24. Baths or showers?

both

25. What color socks are you wearing?

I’m not wearing any.

26. Have you ever been famous?

pft, nope.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

I would, but only for the reach of my music.

28. What type of music do you like?

Rock ‘n Roll, Blues, Jazz, Indie, Classical, Punk, etc. (pretty much anything)

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

I have never.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

four. two under my head, and two on the side of my bed.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

i’m either on my right or my left side, one leg up so my knee is diagonal with my stomach and one stretched out, one hand at my chest and one arm resting over my side.

32. How big is your house?

one story, medium size ish.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

coffee... and maybe sometimes I’ll have a smoothie.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

yeppp, I have. It was ages ago tho.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I’ve only really ever done archery on summer camps or school camps. Although I was pretty good at it whenever I tried.

36. Favourite clean word?

spellbinding

37. Favorite swear word?

F U C K

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Maybe a little over two days.

39. Do you have any scars?

I do. Some on my knees, a lot on my back and my hips. My fingers are pretty scratched up a lot too.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

‘scuse me what? no, never.

41. Are you a good liar?

Indeed I am. But I don’t like to lie.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I’d like to think I’m good at reading people.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

I can do a pretty generic American accent and a stupid posh British one.

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I’d say I don’t, especially hearing me compared to some other Australians - my accent isn’t strong at all. You can definitely tell where I’m from though.

45. What is your favourite accent?

Russian, or German.

46. What is your personality type?

Chaotic dumb bitch, who rants about nature, peace and love.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

um, my macpac jacket, which was like $300. (It was also a birthday present from my mum, and she worked there at the time so it was cheap.)

48. Can you curl your tongue?

I think I can??

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Innie.

50. Left or right-handed?

right-handed. A bitch can do jack shit with her left.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

I used to be, I kinda want a pet tarantula now tbh.

52. Favourite food?

Chicken noodle soup, fight me.

53. Favourite foreign food?

Lasagne.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

Usually, I’m pretty messy, I can’t work in an environment that is completely clean, but somedays I just like to clean shit up.

55. Most used phrase?

“Sorry, what?”

56. Most used word?

definitely, “bro”.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

if a shower is included, like an hour. But without a shower, like 20mins.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

No, I don’t.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck them. (how tf you gon taste a lollipop if you bite it??)

60. Do you talk to yourself?

All the fucking time. When I’m writing I talk myself through the story by mumbling the words to myself a lot. Other times I might be doing the dishes, getting dressed or doing something mundane and I’ll just begin to have a conversation with myself.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

bitch yes, all the fucking time.

62. Are you a good singer?

I like to think that I’m okay.

63. Biggest Fear?

Losing my ability to see.

64. Are you a gossip?

No, unless the person in question has done something shitty to me or a close friend, AND I will only talk about with a close friend.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I don’t mind either way, but long hair makes my knees weak.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

bitch, HAHAH, nope.

68. Favourite school subject?

English, but really only when we’re doing creative writing.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Smack me right in the middle.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope, never ever, and I never plan on it.

71. What makes you nervous?

A lot of shit, not gonna lie.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

yES, the dark stems from my main fear, loss of my sight. I can’t be in control of the situations around me.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends what kind of mistakes we’re taking here.

74. Are you ticklish?

yes, and I fucken hate it.

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

I don’t think I ever have. Maybe accidentally?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

people call me a mum? So, I guess?

77. Have you ever drank underage?

wtf no, who do u think I am wtf???? JK, yes, all the time. Whenever I get the chance.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

ask @xx-kurt-cocaine--xx .

79. Who was your first real crush?

Some dude named Tyler, he turned out to be an ass tho.

80. How many piercings do you have?

Just my ears, but I want like four more.

81. Can you roll your R’s?

a little, but only for like two seconds.

82. How fast can you type?

@livewiredroger tells me I’m an aggresive typer so, I guess I’m pretty fast at punching the fuck outta my keyboard.

83. How fast can you run?

ok, kinda hate running, it hurts my tits. But I’m a sprinter, long-distances kill me.

84. What colour is your hair?

black, dark brown and honey brown. I dyed it black and it’s growing out, looks cool tho so I don’t mind.

85. What color is your eyes?

blue, green, grey. I don’t know which one, I’ve been told all of them too many times.

86. What are you allergic to?

nothing that I know of. Pretty sure I’ve got an intolerence to mushrooms tho, and dairy does weird things to my stomach.

87. Do you keep a journal?

I do, I haven’t written in it in a few weeks tho. Reading back through my depressive episodes isn’t a fun trip.

88. What do your parents do?

job-wise? They’re both teachers for primary school kids.

89. Do you like your age?

I guess? I dunno.

90. What makes you angry?

A lot of things, but I’ve learnt to control it, mostly.

91. Do you like your own name?

I don’t hate it.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I have. Boy names; East, Patrick, Samuel. Girls names; Piper, Lila, Milan.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

I would love a boy. If I had a girl I would love her all the same. But right now, a boy is what I have in mind.

94. What are you strengths?

kill em with kindness

95. What are your weaknesses?

I can be very forward, or very frustrated.

96. How did you get your name?

my mum just turned to my dad and was like, “hey what about this?” and my dad was like, “yup, sure thing.”

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

NAh.

98. Do you have any scars?

I answered this one already?

99. Colour of your bedspread?

blue and beige.

100. Colour of your room?

One wall is aqua blue, the others are white. Mostly blue aesthetic I guess.

I tag: @guns-n-crue @gretavanyeeeeet @solohqrry @punkslap @livewiredroger

@antheasnow @malibubarbievince

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