#the unholy combination of normal/curse
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quailfence · 2 years ago
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[Image Description: A chart titled “Choose your pokemon type based on the music you most listen to (you can be single or dual-typed)”. Each type has a picture of a Pokémon of that type next to it. 
Grass: folk, country, blues, traditional/world folk, eastern classical, hindustani/ragga 
Bug: techno, idm, breakbeat, electro, electroclash, shangaan electro 
Normal: top 40 pop, soft rock, adult contemporary, showtunes, musical comedy, novelty songs 
Electric: garage rock, power pop, britpop, british invasion, 50s rock-roll, hard rock 
Ice: synth pop, new wave, synthwave, minimal wave, ebm, city pop 
Dark: post-punk, goth/deathrock, industrial, dark/ethereal wave, dark cabaret, new beat 
Glitch: glitch, indeterminacy, electroacoustic, lowercase, eai, asmr 
Fire: Hip-hop, funk, rocksteady/reggae, ska/2-tone, dub, soul/r&b 
Poison: drum n bass, hardcore. dubstep, uk garage, grime/nu-grime, trap/wonky 
Rock: blues rock, psychedelic rock, heavy psych, glam rock, stoner rock, noise rock, 
Fighting: punk rock, hardcore punk, emo, math rock, post-rock, crescendo-core
Ghost: shoegaze, dream pop, neo-psychedelia, witch house, bedroom pop, drone 
Dragon: western classical, medieval, baroque, choral, opera, modem classical 
Shadow: harsh noise, power electronics, power noise, japanoise, wall noise, extreme music 
Water: House, downtempo/chillout, trip-hop, exotica, balearic, chillwave 
Flying: jazz, jazz fusion, vocal jazz, big band, swing, free improvisation 
Ground: heavy metal, sludge metal, black metal, doom metal, blackgaze, post-metal/atmospheric 
Psychic: trance/dream trance, new age, progressive electronic, musik kosmiche/berlin school, ambient, vaporwave 
Steel: progressive rock/metal, symphonic rock/metal, folk metal. melodic/power metal, death metal, metalcore/nu-metal 
Fairy: Disco/nu-disco, eurobeat, teen pop, j-pop & k-pop, chiptunes, bubblegum bass 
??? (three question marks) (curse): library music, hauntology. plunderphonics, number stations, radio plays, sound poetry. End Description.]
@a-captions-blog
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I’m going to have to go WATER/BUG
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dina-winchester · 3 days ago
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What Comes After
A sequel to the “What We Were” series—set years in the future
Pairing: Dean x You // Established relationship
Summary: You found the kind of love that doesn’t just survive—it stays. This is what comes after. This is home.
Warnings: None! Pure fluff because it’s the only way to write a sequel. 🥰
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Five Years Later – The Bunker, 3:07 A.M.
The bunker is quiet. All those echoing hallways, those heavy stone walls—normally they feel cavernous at night. But lately, with your body warm and heavy from carrying new life, even the silence feels gentle. Familiar. Like home.
Your feet pad across the cool kitchen floor, one hand bracing the curve of your lower back while the other rummages through the fridge. You’re muttering under your breath, half-cursing the peanut butter jar that’s migrated behind the pickle jar again, when a deep voice cuts through the stillness.
“There she is.”
You jolt—just slightly—but then your shoulders relax. You know that voice in every lifetime. You straighten, turning toward the sound with a sleepy smile.
Dean leans in the doorway, sweatpants low on his hips, t-shirt wrinkled from sleep. His hair’s a mess. So is his heart, judging by the look on his face when his eyes drop to your belly.
“Sorry,” you say, breathless from the effort. “I was trying not to wake you.”
“‘S fine,” he murmurs, already walking toward you. “Kinda figured you’d be up. Kid was kicking like a damn ninja earlier.”
You chuckle and place a hand protectively over the bump. “She gets it from you.”
Dean slides his hands over your hips from behind, one thumb brushing under your belly as he kisses the side of your neck, slow and sweet. “She gets the attitude from you.”
You lean into his chest, letting your body rest against his warmth, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You feel him breathe you in—arms locked around you like he can hold the whole world together that way.
“Whatcha after?” he mumbles against your shoulder. “Pickles? Ice cream? Some unholy combination of both?”
“Peanut butter toast,” you murmur. “With banana. And maybe some honey if I can reach it without pulling a muscle.”
Dean grins, already reaching past you. “You just stand there lookin’ gorgeous and pregnant. I got this.”
You roll your eyes but let him. He grabs the bread, the peanut butter, the banana. Even the honey. Sets it all up on the counter like it’s sacred.
When he spreads the peanut butter with more care than any man ever has, you blink back a tear you weren’t expecting. Because five years ago, he was all sharp edges and scars, and now he’s soft hands and sleepy smiles at 3 a.m. And because this isn’t just love—it’s peace.
“I still can’t believe you gave up hunting,” you say softly, watching him from your spot against the counter.
He shrugs, but his jaw clenches just slightly. “Didn’t give it up. Just… changed my priorities. Sammy calls, I help. But I gotta be smart now. I come back in one piece. Every time.”
You nod. “Because of her?”
Dean glances at your belly, then meets your eyes. “Because of you. And yeah—her too.”
Your throat gets tight again, emotions bubbling too close to the surface. “I didn’t think we’d ever get here.”
He leans in, brushing a kiss over your lips—slow and lingering. “Me either. But damn, I’m glad we did.”
When he pulls back, he cups your bump with both hands and murmurs, “You hear that, sweetheart? We made it. Your mama’s a badass, and I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.”
You laugh through a tear. “You’re such a sap now.”
Dean smirks. “Only for you.”
Dean slides the finished toast onto a plate, sets it down like it’s a five-star meal, and hands it over with a proud little flourish. You kiss his cheek in thanks and take a bite, humming through a mouthful of peanut butter and banana.
He leans back against the counter, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you with that quiet, reverent look he only ever gets when it’s just the two of you and the world slows down. His gaze drops to your belly again, and after a moment, he steps behind you—no words, just a gentle nudge of presence.
You feel his hands come around your sides first, then one slowly slides under your belly. He lifts—just a little, just enough to take the pressure off your spine. The relief is instant and overwhelming. You exhale hard, shoulders dropping as your whole body melts into him.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
Your head falls back onto his shoulder without thinking, cheek pressing against his neck.
“That good, huh?” he murmurs, the warmth of his voice rumbling through your skin.
You nod slowly, your breath finally evening out. “You have no idea.”
Dean holds you there, one strong arm anchored under your belly, the other sliding up to stroke your side. “Should’ve done this sooner,” he mutters, nuzzling behind your ear. “Coulda saved us both a lotta sleepless nights.”
“Still time,” you breathe.
“Damn right there is.”
You stay like that for a while, swaying gently, full plate forgotten on the counter, hearts beating in sync.
A few minutes later, footsteps echo down the hallway—slower, more cautious than usual. Sam appears in the doorway, hair wild, hoodie thrown over a t-shirt, rubbing his eyes.
“I knew I heard voices,” he mutters. Then he stops, blinking at the sight of the two of you—Dean wrapped around your back like a second spine, your belly cradled, head tucked against his jaw.
A slow smile spreads across Sam’s face. “You two gonna make me cry before sunrise or what?”
You laugh, untangling just enough to glance over your shoulder. “Sorry for waking you.”
“Worth it,” Sam says. He pads into the room, reaching for a coffee mug. “You look good. Both of you.”
Dean shrugs, but he’s glowing with quiet pride. “She’s the one doing all the hard work.”
“Yeah, well,” Sam pours his coffee and takes a sip. “You’re glowing like a damn housewife in a Hallmark movie, so…”
Dean flips him off, which just makes you laugh harder.
Sam grins at you. “Have you decided on a name yet?”
You and Dean glance at each other. No words, just that warm spark of a shared secret still under wraps.
“Maybe,” you say, teasing.
Sam rolls his eyes but lets it go, settling into a chair as the three of you ease into the kind of morning that doesn’t need to rush.
Just peace. Family. And the quiet promise that somehow, against every odd, this is the life you built—and no one’s taking it away.
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It’s hard to believe two years have gone by.
You still remember the moment she arrived—screaming her little lungs out, squirming and red-faced, already strong. The pain of labor had been unlike anything you’d ever imagined, brutal and consuming, but Dean had been there through every second. He held your hand through every contraction, whispered steady words through every tear and cry, and kissed your temple when you told him you couldn’t do it—only to remind you gently, “You already are, sweetheart.”
And when it was over—when she was finally here—he cried with you.
You’d do it all over again, without hesitation. Every wave of pain, every exhausted breath… just to see her face for the first time again. Just to hear Dean choke out the words, “She’s perfect… she’s so perfect.”
Her name came easy.
Reina Charlie Winchester.
Your little queen. A name full of strength, love, and the memory of someone who still watches over you.
Now, two years later, that fierce little baby is a babbling, bold-hearted whirlwind who laughs with her whole body and somehow rules the bunker without even realizing it.
Today the bunker is quiet, warm, and full of the kind of stillness that only comes from a good day. You’re sitting on the floor of the war room with a blanket spread out beneath you, Reina in the center surrounded by a few favorite toys. Sam’s nearby, legs crossed, half-watching her while reading through a case file, and Dean leans in the doorway with a mug of coffee, eyes on the two of you like he still can’t believe this is his life now.
Reina babbles something unintelligible as she reaches for a stuffed moose, her chubby fingers wrapping around its ear. You smile, brushing a soft curl out of her face. “That one’s your favorite, huh?” you murmur.
Dean chuckles. “Of course she picks the moose. Kid knows family.”
Sam looks up at that, raising a brow with a crooked smile. “Or she just thinks I’m cuddlier than you.”
Dean scoffs. “Please. I’m a damn teddy bear.”
Sam smirks. “A teddy bear with a shotgun.”
You laugh under your breath, watching them with your heart full, Reina babbling away between them like she knows exactly what they’re saying.
You lean back on your hands—until Reina suddenly shifts, pushing herself upright with surprising determination. She stares ahead like she’s thinking hard, then plants her feet.
“Whoa—” you gasp, hands flying out in case she tips, but she steadies herself.
Dean straightens immediately. “Hey, hey…”
Reina takes one step. Then another.
“Oh my God,” you breathe. “Dean—!”
Sam’s eyes go wide. He’s already setting the file aside. “Is she—?”
Another step. She wobbles, arms out for balance, mouth open in concentration.
“Sweetheart, look at her!” Dean’s voice is thick with awe as he crouches low, arms out. “Come on, baby girl. Come to Daddy.”
“Reina, you’re doing it!” you say, heart thudding wildly.
And then—another step. Then a final one—right into Dean’s waiting arms. He scoops her up instantly, laughing like he can’t breathe.
“You did it! Oh my God, you walked!” he grins, spinning her around as she giggles and clutches his shirt. “You walked to me, baby girl!”
You press your hand to your heart, eyes stinging with tears. Sam’s next to you, blinking hard, shaking his head with a soft laugh.
“She’s really growing up,” he murmurs.
“She’s not even two,” you whisper back.
Sam grins, nudging your shoulder. “Still. She just took her first steps. That’s huge.”
Dean walks over, Reina still held snugly against his chest. She’s giggling, proud of herself, cheeks flushed with victory.
“She wanted to show off,” Dean says, beaming as he kisses her temple. “Knew her Uncle Sammy was here. Had to make it count.”
“She’s dramatic like her dad,” you tease gently.
Dean just winks. “And beautiful like her mama.”
Sam chuckles as you stand and wrap your arms around both of them—your whole little world in a single, glowing moment.
Reina gurgles, then babbles something that sounds suspiciously like “Dada,” and Dean nearly melts on the spot.
Sam throws a hand up. “Okay, that’s it. I’m calling dibs on her first full sentence.”
Dean smirks. “She already said her first words, Sammy. And they were perfect.”
You smile, warm and full, watching as your little girl snuggles close to her dad, her first steps already becoming the first story you’ll tell over and over again. The first of many.
And she walked right into his arms.
As the laughter settles into something softer, Reina crawls back into your lap with her moose clutched proudly in one hand. Her little fingers curl around yours, anchoring herself like you’re her whole world.
Dean slides in beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other settling gently on Reina’s back. His palm spans across her tiny frame like it was made to be there, protective and tender all at once.
He leans in and kisses your temple, the scruff of his jaw brushing your skin. “We did good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion.
You glance at Sam, still sitting cross-legged on the floor, grinning like he’s witnessing a miracle. You smile back, then tilt your head toward Dean, your eyes shining.
“We really did.”
Dean’s hand finds your cheek, fingers warm and sure. You meet him halfway when he leans in—no hesitation, no nerves. Just the kind of kiss that says I’m home. I’m yours. Always.
Slow and deep, full of everything that’s been built and rebuilt between you.
When you part, your foreheads rest together for a beat, your smile pressed right into his.
And just like that, with your daughter safe in your arms and Dean’s love wrapped around you like a promise—everything is exactly as it should be.
Forever starts here.
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A/N: Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this series and the sequel. Please let me know your thoughts and suggestions, I’m always open to improvement. 🫶
Tags: @candy-coated-misery0731 @pillowjj @piertomaximoffsgirl @chaoticbasicallyuselessbisexual @mrswinchester3 @robynn9436-blog @cherryresidence @shanimallina87 @amourcri3s @mandee7 @samlou @almostshamelesstale @alexfms97 @bigmoodyjoody @mikesdndcharecter2 @iamaslytherin0
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siriusblacksbxtch · 8 months ago
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I'm in love with your dean x male reader smuts- is there any way you could do a pretty extreme dom!dean sub!male reader with any combination (your choice) of the following kinks?: gun play, bondage, choking, knife/blood play, oral fixation, stalking/cnc/kidnapping, religious play, spit sexual fighting (like slapping, punching, etc.) , violence/gore, demon!dean, edging/teasing begging, sub not being able to form words, degrading and praise- and could you include specific terms? like pretty boy, good boy, kitty, slut, bitch, whore, dumb, and easy for the sub and for dean just simple stuff like sir, dean, stuff similar. I'm writing you a book I'm so sorry bjfjd I just have a really hard time finding male reader smut as good as yours that suit my kinks 😭😭 I also love a good sub!dean dom!male reader and the kinks and names I provided earlier would suit a fic like that too!! thank you sm for reading this NOVEL jdjsjs i hope you have a great day- aaaaand if you're not comfortable writing something with such extreme kinks I completely understand, I just thought I'd ask cause I love your work!! xoxo 💞💞💞
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A/N: everybody kiss this requester on the mouth I demand it/ I wish I did better but I did what I could! I hope you still like it!
Pairings: Demon!Dean x male!reaader
Warnings: unholy, seriously.
Summary: Demon!Dean had been around for too long, and he looked much too like your boyfriend
You glared across the kitchen at the flannel wearing monster. Oh you hated him. Hated him bad, wearing your beautiful Dean’s face to be an absolute fucking psycho.
Sam had come to terms he’d be sticking around until they found a cure, but you couldn’t stomach it. It made you so goddamned mad.
Like right now in your own home glaring invisible lasers into his head as he sat across from Sam eating food like he was normal.
“(Y/N),” Sam sighed with a conflicted look. “It’s nothing new.”
“Better get used to it, baby boy.” Dean, or not Dean, or whatever— gave you a devilish grin.
“Oh, both of you fuck off. I can’t standing seeing his disgusting ass every second.”
“This disgusting ass can remember some pretty nasty images of you as well.” The demon lowly chuckled as you flushed red, Sam looking down at the table to avoid the conversation.
“Fuck you, psycho.” You rolled your eyes, stomping to your room and slamming the door. You kicked the metal irritably muttering curses under your breath as you pulled off your shirt.
You were hot, nearly feeling as though you were sweating from the interaction. You hated him, god more then you thought you could, walking around with your boyfriends face and just about everything that made him an asshole.
“Let me get this straight—”
“God!” You let out a gasp as you clutched your heart, turning to face the very demon himself.
“Not God,” he smirked. “Just me (Y/N).”
“No shit, what the hell do you want?”
Before you could move for your shirt he stepped closer, walking you back into the wall until your chests were touching.
“What do I want?” Dean laughed, his hot breath hitting your face. “I want to know why you could bend over like a bitch—” His eyes flashed black— “Before I got these babies.”
You swallowed harshly at the words, staring into the abyss of black.
“You used to be so good for me.” He began rubbing at your crotch, you breath hitching in your throat as you tried to look anywhere else.
“You’re not—”
“But I am,” he hissed before you could finish. “I’m still Dean. The Dean who would sleep next to you, fuck you til you cried baby.”
You once again shuttered at the thought, cheeks growing hotter as he continued to palm you through your jeans.
“The one who knows how secretly bad you’ve wanted something like this.”
At that you shoved him back, swinging a fist into his jaw and slamming him into the wall across from you.
He punched you straight back, pushing you onto the bed and swinging his fist again for good measure.
You could taste the blood on your teeth as he grinned down at you, moving his hips down to meet yours as a strangled moan left your lips.
“Quit trying to fight it and be a good boy.”
“Fuck you,” you sighed out.
He backhanded you, grabbing your jaw in a stone clutch, moving so his lips pressed against yours.
“I know how bad you want it, (Y/N). Stop fighting.” With that he pulled back slamming his lips into yours.
You couldn’t help but pull him closer, missing his soft lips and strong build.
As soon as it started it seemed to be over, Dean pulling off your pants and flipping you over before you could even process.
“See how good things go when you’re a good boy?” A strangled gasp left you as his hand slammed down on your ass cheek. He did it once again with enough strength to cause you to move forward. “You just love being my little slut?”
Dean’s low chuckled filled the air along with the sound of his hand coming down on your ass.
“Fuck,” you were struggling not to be a drooling mess at this point, Dean flipping you around again to face him.
“You ready to stop being a little bitch and be a good boy, (Y/N).”
You stared into his black eyes finding what you used to despise all too intriguing as you finally gave a stiff nod.
“No, no,” he chuckled lowly as he ran a hand over your torso. “You are a pretty boy, but your mouth,” he whistled lowly. “We gotta make up for all that ugly talk, baby boy.”
Dean pulled you by your hair, and you let him, shoving you roughly to your knees as he undid his belt.
“Open.” Came the cold voice, much less playful than he had been when he entered your room.
You did so, opening wide as he slid his dick into the back of your throat, a soft sigh escaping as he did so.
“Jesus, slut.” Dean’s moan was like music to your ears, the demon grabbing your hair roughly as he moved you up and down on his dick.
“You act so tough now I get it,” came his devilish laugh, “you’ve been so worked up because I haven’t used you like the dumb whore that you are.”
You moaned around him at this words, his movement suddenly slowing as he pulled you forward and rested his dick down your throat.
“Acting like a whiny bitch when all you wanted was me back in your bed.” Tears and drool began to escape you, struggling to breathe on his dick.
The sight seemed to amuse Dean, you felt his dick growing in your throat as you struggled.
“All you had to not do was be a whiny slut, and instead here you are choking.”
You began to try to pull off, but he held you there a few seconds long before pulling you back into a wet kiss.
“You gonna be a good boy now, (Y/N).”
His black eyes poured into yours and instead of hatred all you felt was desire.
“Yes—”
Dean smacked you hard, pulling you close by the jaw as he bit on your lip and pulled, a hand going to your throat to squeeze roughly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.” You breathed shakily. “Please.”
He grinned as he flipped you back onto the bed, hovering over you as your chest rapidly began to rise and fall.
“Please what, pretty boy?”
“Please,” you whined. “Please, fuck me. I’ve wanted it for so long please, Dean.”
His arrogant smile never left his face as he spit into his hand, the other going to squeeze around your neck. Dean shoved his fingers into you, loving the way you squirmed around him, trying to moan but nothing coming out from the force of his hand.
“Cant have Sammy hear us. Can we dumb whore?”
You only tried to moan more as he worked you open, then suddenly without warning he flipped you over and pressed at your entrance.
“You want me to fuck you, baby.”
“Yes sir, please.” You were trembling at this point, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you into the mattress so hard you couldn’t walk.
“Not very convincing for a needy whore,” he sighed teasingly.
“Please, Dean. I need you to fuck me, please. I need it so bad—”
A low moan escaped you as he suddenly pushed in, grabbing the back of your hair to control his thrusts as he set a fast pace.
Dean’s hand slammed down on your ass once again, a whiny moan escaping you as you felt him stretch you open.
“You gonna be a good boy now, or do I need to remind you who you belong to all the time?”
“A-All the time,” you muttered out between gasps. “Need this all the time.”
Dean laughed grabbing your hips to pull you back even harder as your moans only grew.
“Say you’re my whore,” Dean grunted as his pace began to falter.
“Yours. All yours, Dean. All the time.”
With a final hard thrust, and another smack to your ass, you felt the demon finish deep inside you, as you did on the sheets below.
You were gasping for air, tears of pleasure gathering in the corners of your eyes. You slowly turned to meet Dean, a shit eating grin always seeming to appear on his face.
“What?” You snapped with an angry glare, a flush of embarrassment falling over you.
However, Dean leaned forward pulling you into another warm kiss.
“Been wanting to do that since I got here pretty boy.”
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esstrellaa123 · 20 days ago
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For yall of course: @simonbrain
Inspo
Suggestive, cursing, sorry if you’re allergic to raspberries or just don’t like them 😣
Friday nights, your favorite day of the week. It marks not only your paycheck, but the fact that the weekend is starting.
Normally, you’d lounge around, enjoying your time off, but tonight, you’re craving cookies. And not any regular cookies. You’re craving the raspberry cookies from Subway.
You quickly climb out of bed, your mix of music bumping through the house. From Sade to Megan to Shabakan.
You basically lived in the middle of nowhere, doing your job remotely. Your computer absolutely sacred, filled with files upon files of sensitive information.
Besides that, you enjoyed your weekends to the fullest. Sometimes taking the long drive to the city to enjoy a night out, or, if you didn’t feel like it, staying home and baking cookies at 12am.
“Smooth operator…” you sing loudly. “Smoooothhhh operaataaaa.” You continue, a dancing shuffle as you make your way to the kitchen.
“Coast to coast, LA, to Chicago… western maaalleee…” you say, pulling out a pan and looking over the recipe to make sure you had everything. You did of course, preheating the oven as you started to add all your dry ingredients before moving to the wet.
Soon, you were combining the two, mixing in the raspberry chunks before rolling the dough into balls. The recipe makes 12.
You didn’t notice the quiet footsteps through your halls as you continued to sing.
You spun, moving your arms in weird directions as you felt the music. You swayed your hips, dancing around your kitchen, blissfully unaware of the goliath of a man watching you. Amused? Most likely.
You danced to the music solos in the song, whipping your bonnet clad hair this and that way, sliding across the tile floor in your socks.
Your oversized shirt turned with your body, cold air creeping up your bare legs. Were you only wearing a shirt and underwear? Yes. So what, frankly, you were in the middle of nowhere with no one. Live a little.
The next song played and you squealed, exclaiming to no one that it was one of your favorites.
“Hey, cocky as fuck— everything ‘bout me poppin’. Got face, I got body, you name it I got it.” You rap, feeling yourself in the starry night. The change in rhythm is welcome as you dance, still making the small dough balls.
“Cocky as fuck, bitch you know I’m conceited. Yo hoe wanna be me, yo man wanna eat it.” You continue, still moving around before finally settling down as the oven goes off, telling you it’s reached the desired temperature. You hum the lyrics.
After putting the premature cookies in the oven, you spin on your heel with the intention of getting a glass of wine from the fridge before letting out an unholy scream.
There, in your fucking doorway is a man. A very large one at that, watching you like he has all the damn time in the world.
The song changed. True by Spandue Ballet. A classic lost in the hundreds of songs in your playlist. Not the time.
You would laugh if you weren’t fucking fuming.
The fear quickly turned to anger. How dare he ruin your night? You pick up the closest thing to a weapon you could find. A spatula still covered in cookie dough.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” You shout at him, glaring but not moving as you held up your ‘weapon’.
“I.. live here?” He says as if it’s a question. “And a spatula? Really?”
You stare at him for a long moment before he sees the relief flood your face. “Jesus— fuck, you asshole. Some notice before you come home? Or spy on me?” You say with a huff.
Simon. Your roommate. The one that disappeared for weeks, months on end without a notice of when he was gone or coming back or even home.
You didn’t know what he did for work, you just knew that you had the house to yourself more often than not. You enjoyed the time alone, leading you to forget someone else also paid the other half of the rent.
“I’m not spying on you?” He says in a asking tone again as if you’re stupid, watching you sip on wine and lean against the counter in.. just a shirt. Was that his shirt?!
“You were.” You snap back.
“I was simply walking into my kitchen— sorry, I mean— your concert” he teases.
“You have some nerve ruining my night.” You say, choosing to ignore his ‘jokes’.
He only huffs out a laugh, still leaning against the doorframe.
“Exactly.” You say.
“You’re ridiculous.” He counters.
“I take pride in that.” You finish, cutting your eyes at him again before turning back to your cup.
The silence that follows is somewhat comfortable, your heart still calming down as the song continues to play in the background.
“Nice music choice.” He says, teasing again.
“It’s on shuffle.” You say with a glare. Angry that he had scared you shitless.
He rolls his eyes, moving to go into the fridge. Pulling out the milk, he makes a glass, offering one to which you decline.
Shrugging in indifference, he walks past you again, allowing you another whiff of his scent. Soap. He smells like soap. Somehow, he had showered without you noticing. Not the running water, or bathroom light being flicked on and off, or the closing of his door when he went to get dressed.
Speaking of dressed—
“You’re in my shirt.” He says plainly, watching you shamelessly from the table.
“I- I must have mixed up the clothes.” You stumble, feeling less angry and more embarrassed.
“You look good in it. Keep it.” He says, dragging his eyes up your legs and back to your eyes.
Your face burns. Not just from embarrassment. “You mean you like seeing me in it.” You say, trying to regain some control again.
“Same difference.” He says plainly, shattering that control into a million pieces instantly. He watches your eyes scramble for somewhere else to look instead of him.
You just huff, turning off the loud timer and going to the oven to take the cookies out.
Barely a minute passes before he’s scooping up 4 of the 12, not waiting for them to cool down before one is in his mouth and the rest awaiting their turn for a cool, milky bath.
“Thanks.” He says before shoving another cookie in his mouth, audibly groaning in satisfaction. His head tilts back, legs spread wide and a hand gripping the table.
Shit.
You take your chances, looking to his lap. Yep. He’s definitely hard.
Shit
Shit
Shit.
You tear your eyes away, face as red as the baked raspberries.
It must be the first thing he’s had since he’s gotten back from God knows where. “For the food… and view.” He finishes with a grin, looking back to you, white teeth piercing through the dimly lit kitchen.
Mi Salvacion by Shabakan plays. Iykyk
Your ears burn brighter as you fiddle with the hem of your- his shirt, pulling it lower, though it doesn’t do much to help you or to stop his eyes from dragging up and down your body.
In front of you sits a starved man. In front of him stands the perfect fucking meal to come home to.
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kawaiijohn · 4 years ago
Text
Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1
For Invisobang Minibang 2021
Ao3 Link
Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing
Summary
“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”
The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.
Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!
Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.
Chapter 1: An Inquiry
“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”
Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently.  “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.
“Oh, ha ha.  You've never said that to me before.”  The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual.  Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least.  “Seriously, though.  It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!"  He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically.  "But... it's kinda, y'know.  Personal-”  Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.
Of course.  Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that).  A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.
“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.
Clockwork stares at him, unblinking.  An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye.  With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains.  They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.
It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake.  To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions.  After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity?  Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward.  They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.
It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.
It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best.  Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him.  Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.
The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).
Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought.  Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue.  It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!”  He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.
Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?”  They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny.  They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now).  They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation.  It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."
Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response.  Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away.  “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!!  Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!”  He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.
Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions.  Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways.  And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after.  Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always.  Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ .  And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’
They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were.  There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-
“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”
They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed.  Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line.  They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.
Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse.  “Shit!  I mean... uh crap??"   They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present.  "Never mind just... sorry for asking...  Oh man!  Did I offend you somehow?  Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!”  They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core.  “We can just forget about it if-”  Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.
Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development.  Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did).  Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder.  “It is more than fine, Daniel.  You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.”  They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.
“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were.  I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment."  Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors.  "Come along- it’s best we sit for this.  I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”
Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms.  “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”
“Oh, it is very long, indeed.”  They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time.  They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed.  Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry.  The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.
“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.”  Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme.  Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile.  “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”
“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz!  Unfair!!”  His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues.  “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this?  Well, there’s the universe right?  Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends?  But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”
He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought.  Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige.  They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all.  The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call.  Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’  The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).
The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought.  “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”
Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish.  “I got it!!  The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept?  Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’”  Danny nods to himself.  "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."
“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely.  Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”
“Well, yeah!  We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams?  The Void or something, maybe?  And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-”  Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization.  “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”
“That I did.  Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.”  Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground.  “Now then.  We have drinks.  We are sitting comfortably.  I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.”  They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.
They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute.  It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.
“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life.  They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night.  Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.
“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm.  Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive.  Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”
They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt.  “Wait wait- this realm?  Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now???  Are you messing with me?  Like… I thought it was all just-”  The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.
“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone.  Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered?  Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet?  The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin.  Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”
“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts???  He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.
“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly.  One you asked I tell you…”  Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.
All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story.  Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.
Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists?  Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?”  He pouts, brow furrowed.
The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head.  White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders.   Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward.  “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.”  Another sip.  Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always.  They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously.   ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”
“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you?  Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning??  Could I shoot lightning if I tried?  Like were you some sorta time wizard?  Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?”  Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.
Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age.  He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid.  “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story.  The choice is yours, Daniel.”  They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short.  The best answer.  “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”
They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue.  “Now- to answer your last question… Yes.  You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that.  Other players, situations, and pure circumstances.  The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.”  Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul.  “Even yourself.”
The boy shudders, an appropriate response.  “Wait... me?  Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know??  Can that even happen???”  Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself.  The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.
They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache.  “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”
“You could say that.  You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.”  They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.
“What’s the mirror for?”  Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers.  The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently.  After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.
The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again.  “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once.  It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”
They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter.  “Did you just use sarcasm???  Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!”  The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows.  After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes.  “But no.  Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”
“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.”  Clockwork waves their hand.  The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes.  They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender.  The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.
Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story.  “Do you understand what’s being seen?”  The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two.  Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.
This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago
Text
𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 (𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟖𝐊
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).
𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @vocalyunho
✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿
The girl's eyes peered with great attention onto the map in front of her. Making sure it was the correct hallway, she proceeded to make her way down the small staircase. Being so attentive towards the schedule and diagram given to her, not to mention carrying her binder and some of her journals, she nearly tripped on the last couple of stairs but luckily regained her balance before any disaster happened. Faced with a wall full of lockers, she made a right turn and carefully looked for the number written on her paper. Her locker was one of the last ones, which she didn't mind. A door at the end of the lockers was half open, letting her have a peak inside what she assumed to be the training room for the boxing club, given the huge punching bag that was hanging and all sorts of other equipment that she would never guess what they were for.
Squinting her eyes, she began to put in her combination, safely maneuvering the lock and getting her locker to open. With a soft grunt, she tossed her heavy book bag into the compartment, her shoulder aching after having carried so many things at once. She began organizing things so loudly in there she didn't notice the tall, lean figure that approached the punching bag, one of his hands finishing the task of wrapping the safety bandages on the other. His black hair was already sticking to his forehead after having run some laps outside in the track field, his usual warm up before heading inside. Making sure the bandages were tightly secured, he held his fists up before landing a couple of punches onto the bag, stopping momentarily before resuming to strike at it with as much force as he could. Through pants and grunts, he continued his punches, teeth clenched and eyes completely focused, his body beginning to perspire even more sweat, leaving his shirt nearly soaked through.
Gasping for air, he decided to take a break, body hunched over as he rested his hands on his knees, slowly getting his heart rate back to normal. Getting an unusual feeling, he suddenly lifted his head and tilted it to the left. He was both surprised and intrigued to see a girl he'd never seen before gaze at him, her eyes wide open and lips slightly agape, fascination clearly visible on her features. Having been caught eyeing him, she quickly hid her face behind the open locker door, her cheeks immediately reddening and her hands fumbling to quickly take out what she needed and just dash out of there to avoid any further embarrassment. The young athlete chuckled softly, smile still plastered on his face as he began walking out of her room and up to where she was.
"I take it you're new in the school right?"
Startled by his close proximity and tall height, she dropped all of the things she was currently holding, muttering out a slight curse as she began bending down to pick them up.
"Here. Let me help."
Pulling her back up, the male speedily gathered her things and held them back out to her.
"Thank you..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You never answered my question." He gently reminded her.
"Oh...yeah I just transferred here." She responded, hand reaching up to brush some fallen hair behind her ear.
"Thought so, in my years here I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a cute little face like yours."
His compliment followed along by his large hand booping the bun on the top of her head only worked to make her feel more shy about standing in front of such a handsome guy.
"I'm Yunho." He held out his wrapped hand out to her, which she gratefully shook.
"I'm Y/N."
He looked at her with a fond smile upon hearing her name.
"Well Y/N, if you ever get lost or need something, please let me know. I'd be happy to help."
Unable to help himself, he leaned down and bumped his nose against hers, making her slightly crinkle her own after he pulled back.
"I like you. Let's be friends."
✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿✿*:・゚゚・:*✿
"Look! Yunho! I see the beach already!"
Yunho only took a small glance over at his friend, who had of course taken off her seatbelt in order to stand up and get a better view of the blue ocean that was now drawing closer and closer to them. Without taking his eyes off the road, he grabbed one of her belt loops and firmly sat her back down, not about to risk an accident happening.
"Y/N just because this car is convertible, doesn't mean you can just go wilding about and standing up. You could get hurt."
Poking her bottom lip out with crossed arms, the girl pushed the seat further back so she could rest her feet up on the dashboard. Still hyped up about their trip to California and unable to contain her excitement, Y/N moved one of her legs so it could nudge Yunho's arm. He merely rolled his eyes at her, so used to her mischievous yet rather adorable antics. He couldn't suppress the smile on his face when she kept bumping her knee up against his elbow or tapping her foot against one of the hands that was gripping the steering wheel. During one particular move of her leg, he got his hand off the wheel and grabbed her thigh, squeezing at it softly and keeping it within his reach.
"Do you have a death wish?" He questioned her.
"No..... I'm just too excited and I can't wait to see the rest of the gang." She bounced against the seat.
Releasing a light chuckle, Yunho used his thumb to rub circles against her exposed knee, tugging at the ripped fabric coming out.
"Seriously, couldn't you pick another pair of jeans?" He shook his head.
"What's wrong with them?" She exclaimed in offense.
"They're practically ripping from how skin tight they are. Honestly, did you just paint them on? Guys will stare at your ass." He involuntarily gripped her thigh a little tighter when he pictured some pervert eyeing his best friend up and down.
"Maybe that was the whole plan along."
Her little snort only made him smack her thigh rather abruptly, earning her a glare from him as well, which only served to make her burst into giggles.
"Hit me harder daddy." She teased him, sitting up to rest her head on his shoulders as she batted her eyelashes at him.
"Oh my fuck- I can't with you! You know I hate that word!" He cringed in disgust at the unholy word, lightly shoving her head off him, opting to instead turn up the volume of the music to hopefully calm his energetic friend down a bit.
Pulling into the parking lot, Y/N wasted no time in jumping out of the car and sprinting out towards the small crowd that was already gathered near the shoreline, a small bonfire already being started while the sun was still out. Finally catching sight of the last pair to get there, some of their friends waved them over.
"Hey guys! They're here! Yunho and Y/N are here!" A bright pink haired male who was donning a crop top began jumping up and down in excitement at the whole crew being gathered.
Meanwhile the jet black hair male next to him was not amused by his screeching.
"Ok ok geez, we get it." He held San down.
"Yeosang stop being a drag and let loose for once. We're on vacation, no more mean professors. No late night studying, no more presentations. Tonight we're just a bunch of adults who are going to get shit faced wasted and party all night long!" His friend let out a piercing holler.
"Ok but I'm not carrying your drunk ass back to the room then Woo." Yeosang warned him.
"Mingi!"
Y/N immediately ran up to her friend who was just as tall as Yunho. She was so happy to finally see him after so long, none of them having been able to see much of him since he had gone away on a transfer college program and had been living abroad for a while now. She clung onto him tightly.
"I missed you two munchkin." Mingi bent his face to kiss the top of her head before ruffling her hair into a tangled mess like he'd usually do.
"I'm not going to punch you for that only because I missed your clumsy ass too much." She squinted her eyes at him, but immediately went back to her happy self and began asking him so many questions about what he had done.
Yunho went over to see if anyone needed help, always stepping up to set up anything they needed. He had decided to help out his older friend, Seonghwa, bring out the coolers full of beer and other alcoholic beverages while another one, Hongjoong, began making a playlist on his phone which would soon blast all over the bluetooth speakers.
"How was the ride here?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, who could only let out an exhausted sigh.
"That crazy huh?" Hongjoong chuckled, looking over at Y/N who was practically hanging onto Mingi's arm like a koala, while San and Wooyoung were arguing about not being giving the same amount of hugs.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's already having fun, but even I think she's a little too much for me nowadays. I can barely keep up with her energy sometimes." Yunho admitted, although he found it ironic how ever since the years passed, it had seemed as if though his once bubbly and energetic nature switch somewhat with Y/N's more calm and mellow personality.
"Well I mean, don't worry about babysitting her tonight. Just drink some beer and go wild like we used to back in high school."
Popping off the cap, Seonghwa handed the bottle over to Yunho who immediately took a small sip of it.
"Are you kidding me? I'm going to have to stay sober and make sure she doesn't do anything too crazy."
Smirking, Hongjoong came up to him as he pulled something out of his pants.
"I thought you'd say that which is why I took the liberty of placing you two in the same motel room. Now you don't have to worry about rooming with tweedle dumb or tweedle idiot there." He nodded over to Wooyoung and San.
Yunho looked down at the room key with bewilderment.
"Oh Hong- why would you? Listen she's my best friend, but to share a room with her-"
"Is the best idea if you ask me. Seriously Yunho, we're here about to get fucked as hell. Maybe this is the chance for something between you two to finally happen. If you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made Yunho blush wildly.
"Nothing will happen. She only sees me as a friend." He tried to convince himself more than anyone else.
Seonghwa and Hongjoong looked at him and then at each other, both of them with a dead panned expression.
"Oh honey you are so lost." Seonghwa stated, letting out some very audible tsks.
"Jongho! Come here! We need an opinion from a level headed person." Hongjoong waved over a muscular red head over, who came over with arms crossed over his chest.
"What?" He looked unamused.
"On a scale of 1-10, how much would you say Yunho and Y/N want to fuck each other?"
Yunho covered Hongjoong's mouth at that.
"Hyung! What the fuck?!" He looked around to make sure Y/N didn't hear anything.
Shrugging, Jongho slid his hands into his pant's pockets.
"I don't really pay attention to hetero shit, but I'd say solid 12 if I'm being honest." Satisfying their curiosity, he went back towards Yeosang, who was already downing down another bottle and laughing a lot more than he'd usually do, which prompted his partner to take the bottle away from him, which Yeosang did not appreciate and began grumbling in a not so threatening manner.
Yunho looked over at his friend, talking so casually with the other girls, all of them showing off pictures of clothes or their pets no doubt. He began to think that maybe Hongjoong and Seonghwa were right. Perhaps this could be the night where something would spark between them.
He just had to wait and see.
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Loud cheers and hollers were being poured out at the two females who were currently tongue deep inside each other's throats due to the dare they were given.
"3, 2, 1! Ok. 40 seconds is up."
The more dominant of the girls got off the other's lap, a smug look on her face while the other looked completely dazed as she tried to regain her composure.
"Dang Sua, you didn't need to go that intense. Poor Yoohyeon." Wooyoung shook a finger at her.
"I know for a fact you enjoyed that little show just as much as she did." She glanced in between his legs, eyeing the very visible boner that had formed there before brushing some hair out of Yoohyeon's face.
"Ok it's not my turn but I've really been wondering long and hard about something! Seungyeon! Is it true you got your nipples pierced last month?" San suddenly blurted out, words slightly slurring as all eyes looked over at the bronzed beauty who had a wicked grin on her face.
"I did." She confirmed the rumor.
"No way! You have low pain tolerance! I don't believe you!" He interjected.
Putting her drink down, she sauntered over to him, hands on her hips as she stood in front of him. Grabbing the end of her shirt, she lifted it up and let her well endowed tits pop out. San nearly choked as he stared at the metal bars piercing through her nipples.
"Hot damn. I love being Bi." He licked his lips.
With a giggle, Seungyeon gave her tits a little shake before covering them up again.
"Ok now that I blessed you with my chest, now you have to do something for me."
Always up for a challenge, San immediately agreed.
"What is it? Come on throw it at me. Who's dick or pussy am I sucking?" His question had everyone laughing.
"No, don't get ahead of yourself fuck boi. I dare you to strip and jump into the cold water." She smirked, really convinced he'd never do it.
But to everyone's shock, horror and amusement, San didn't waste a second before standing up and ridding himself of all his clothes, leaving some of his friends wide eyed while others were getting more turned on by the ever escalating game of truth or dare.
"You know if you wanted an excuse to just see my dick, all you had to do was ask."
With a wink towards the tanned female, San ran into the water and let his entire body submerge underneath the waves. Meanwhile the rest of the party got off their seats to witness or record the entire thing. Coming out of the water, San swiped his hair back before calling out to them.
"I bet none of you have the guts to do the same!" He challenged them.
"Bet!" Wooyoung responded before practically ripping his shirt off.
With a shrug, Seungyeon completely took off her top.
"You have all seen my tits already. What the heck?"
Soon a few more of them joined San in the water, while the others either stood there contemplating if they should do something or just let them be.
"I knew it. I knew this would eventually turn into one of those college parties that ends in an orgy- NOT THAT I'VE EVER SEEN THEM!" Mingi immediately shouted, but everyone around him just looked at him with absolutely no surprise or judgment.
"I wanna join!"
Yunho watched in horror as Y/N took off her shirt and threw it at him. Before she could even reach for her bra clasp, he took off his jacket and covered her, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.
"No you don't. We're going to our room and you're going straight to bed." He firmly said, ignoring the suggestive glances the others were giving him.
"Put me down Yunho! Put me down!" She wiggled in his grasp, trying to break free but in her tipsy state she couldn't really do much.
"Bye Y/N! Sorry you didn't get to show us your boobs! I bet they're great!" Yeosang waved at them, completely drunk with Jongho holding him up so he wouldn't fall.
Y/N eventually gave up and just let Yunho carry her across the motel parking lot, his car already having been moved over so it'd be easier for them to get their stuff. Not fully coherent and with still leftover energy, she began tapping on his back.
"Truth or dare."
"Y/N, I'm pretty sure the game already ended." He told her as he took out his key to lock and put the alarm on his car.
"But you didn't pick anything besides truth you boring old sack! Now pick dare! I wanna dare you to do something!" She insisted.
"Fine. What do you want me to do?" He wanted to satisfy her whims for a moment.
"Dare you to slam me on the hood of the car and make out with me."
Yunho wasn't sure if she was being serious or was playing around like she usually did, but her sentence made him freeze up.
"I knew it. I knew you didn't have the balls to do it." She snickered at him.
Finally deciding to snap, Yunho tore his jacket off her body before hauling her down and slamming her onto the hood of his car, not to hard so she wouldn't get hurt. With a dark look in his eyes, he smirked down at her.
"Bet."
Before she had time to respond or comprehend what was going on, Y/N was already melting into the kiss her long time friend was giving her. She didn't hesitate to allow his tongue to slither in her mouth. Y/N moaned as Yunho continued to massage his tongue against hers, rolling them over each other before sucking down on it. His hands which had been holding her arms over her head let go of them so they could snake down her torso before gripping her hips. Prying her legs open with his knee, Yunho pressed himself in between them, his growing bulge grinding against her jean clad core. Y/N could feel her underwear stick to her folds from how aroused she was becoming. Having nothing to lose, she wrapped her legs around Yunho's waist, squeezing him closer as she grinded harder against him, practically dry humping him.
"Fuck! You're driving me insane."
Wanting to get her as frustrated as him, he trailed wet and sloppy kisses down her sternum, licking on the top of her cleavage, while his fingers pushed underneath her bra cups so they could rub her nipples in between them.
"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasped out, her hands going to the back of his head, fingers harshly tugging at the strands of his hair as she pressed her chest out more forward him.
"Please suck my tits."
Yunho let out a brief awkward laugh at her request before pulling himself off her, which resulted in her writhing in an annoyed manner.
"That wasn't part of the dare Y/N and I'm not doing such a lewd action out in public."
He did not let her glare deter him from patting the top of her head softly. Turning his back to her, he made way towards their hotel room calling out to her so she could follow him. When he didn't hear nor sense her following behind him, he quickly turned around and saw that instead she was walking towards the pool.
"Y/N I'm not going to tell you again. Get in the room right now and- No! Y/N no!"
He chased after her as if she was a misbehaving cat, internally cursing himself as he saw her entering the pool area. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her peel off her tight skinny jeans before diving into the pool, some of the water splashing onto him.
"Holy hell, please give me the strength to deal with her." He muttered to himself as he picked up her discarded clothing.
He just stood there both admiring and just guarding her as she freely swam around without a care in the world. Emerging from underwater, she swam up to where Yunho was and propped her elbows on the concrete.
"Join me Yuyu." She made it a point to use the nickname he favored and to glance at him with puppy dog eyes.
"No. It's late and you have gone wild enough for one night. Now come on, out you go now."
Extending his hand out, he ordered her to take it so he could pull her out of there. Having other thoughts in mind, Y/N acted as if she was giving in. As soon as she took his hand, she took advantage of his unguarded state to strongly pull him down into the water with her. Yunho came back out of the water with a shocked expression.
"Have you completely lost your mind?!" He shouted at her, wiping some of the dripping water off his face.
"Maybe. I don't know."
With absolutely no remorse, she pushed him towards the pool steps, making him sit down on one of them before straddling his lap. Not giving him a chance to ask, Y/N just cupped his cheeks and began to fervently kiss him, not lingering long on his lips as she preferred to attack his neck, biting and sucking at various points in an effort to leave purple and red spots all over his milky skin. Yunho's hands cupped her hips in a futile attempt to hold her still but ultimately failing as they seemed to have a mind of their own and wandered further down to cup her ass. Kneading at her cheeks, Yunho bucked his hips up at hers, head tilting to the side to allow her to nibble away as she pleased at his skin.
"Just what exactly do you want with all this?" Yunho finally asked.
Humming against his skin, she placed a sweet peck on the recent mark she made.
"I want you to suck my boobs." She repeated her words from before.
Taking his hands off her ass, she placed them on her chest, making them massage them as she liked them to be.
"That's it? You go through all this just to get your boobs sucked?" Yunho found it ridiculous yet cute.
Shaking her head, Y/N began bouncing on his lap.
"No I want you to fuck me." She blurted out.
Yunho immediately retracted her hands off her body, eyes not even blinking as he began processing what she just said. Gulping down an imaginary lump, he took a deep breath and gathered his strength and self control.
"Y/N, baby. You're probably too wasted to think straight. You don't know what you're saying. So let's just go back to the room and go to sleep. Don't want you regretting anything in the morning."
Even though he said it to her, he mostly meant it for himself. He didn't want to ruin anything they had already built up over the years just because of some stupid decision. Y/N however clung onto him when he attempted to let her go.
"I'm not wasted trust me. I'm in full use of my 5 senses and I mean it when I say I want you to fuck me Jeong Yunho."
Trying to seduce him one last time, she began to nibble at his earlobe, knowing he was sensitive around that area. Wanting to rile him up, she whispered in his ear.
"If not then that's ok..... I'm sure Seonghwa or Hongjoong won't mind me joining them for a night."
Instantly, she was lifted up by his strong arms and carried away towards their room.
"You're not spending the night with anyone but me."
Yunho nearly broke the door down from how hard he opened it, using his foot to slam it close behind them. Setting his friend down on the bed, he began to rid himself of his soaked clothes, letting them pile up into a short wet stack on the floor. Y/N bit down at her bottom lip as she took in the size of Yunho's cock. It was well above average and the thickness had her mouth watering. When Yunho came over to her, she tried to reach out and stroke it, but he quickly grabbed her wrist and stopped her from getting closer. Pushing her further on the bed until her head hit the headboard, Yunho reached under her back so he could unclasp her bra and free her boobs from their confinement.
"Are you really going to fuck me? Fuck me like one of your exes? I heard a few naughty and interesting rumors." She let out a soft giggle.
With darkening eyes, Yunho used one of his hands to wrap itself her neck, tightening around it so as to cut off her breathing for a brief moment.
"First of all, don't mention any of those skanks right now."
Releasing her neck, he peeled her panties off her legs and threw them across the room, ignoring where it landed. Taking both of her hands in his, he pressed his forehead against hers, his lips tenderly brushing against her own.
"And second of all, I'm not going to fuck you...."
Giving her a loving peck, he smiled at her.
"I'm going to make love to you."
Unlike his previous hungry kiss, this time his kisses were more soft and drawn out, as if he wanted to take his time in savoring each and every time his lips enveloped hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. Every once in a while, he'd tug at her bottom lip with his teeth in a playful way. Once he got her fill of tasting her mouth, his lips traveled down her chest, finally giving her what she'd ask for since the beginning. Looking up towards her, he took hold of one of her delectable breasts and brought his mouth close to it, tongue circling around the sensitive nipple before it disappeared inside his mouth. Yunho couldn't hide the proud smirk on his face whenever he felt Y/N squirm underneath him, back arching everytime he gave her tits a particularly long and hard suck. Pressing them together, he squeezed them into his large hands before taking both of her nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing over them. Taking notice of her change in breathing, Yunho couldn't resist himself in teasing her a little.
"Finally satisfied that you got what you wanted? You got your tits sucked, should I stop now?"
When he began moving away from her, Y/N pulled him back to land on top of her.
"No! You said you were going to make love to me." She whined at him, lips pouting out.
Pecking her pouty lips, Yunho began crawling down her body.
"I did say that and I'm following through on it."
Pulling her body close to his face, he ran his nose against her slippery folds. Parting her lips with 2 of his fingers, he delved his tongue into her hole, collecting some of her arousal and lapping it up with such ardent intensity. His face was practically smothering itself into her heat, her juices staining not only his nose but even his chin. But Yunho couldn't help himself as he continued to feast on her taste, his tongue flicking out against her clit before sucking more of her juices out of her. He loved having her roll her hips against his face, her eyes shut tight as she let herself get lost in the addicting feeling of having his mouth swallow her mound and folds. It boosted his confidence when he heard her moans get louder and her the rising of her chest become more agitated. By the way her thighs began to clench around his head, he knew she was going to cum any second. Before that could happen, he released her delicious clit from his mouth with a loud popping sound and climbed back on top of her body.
Before she could complain about him leaving her hanging, he began to pump himself slowly, the tip of his dick running across her folds. Looking at her one last time, he asked her one more time if she was ok with it. Instead of answering, she replaced his hand with her own, getting a low hiss to spill out from his lips as she began to stroke his length. Thumb playing with his slit, her mouth was occupied in kissing all over the marks she had previously made on his neck. Not wanting to waste any more time, she lined him up at her entrance and pushed him inside enough to get the tip in.
"Go ahead Yuyu." She encouraged him, her hands steadying themselves on his arms for support.
Slowly easing the rest of himself inch by inch in her, Yunho gave them both a few seconds to get adjusted before he began to expertly roll his hips. It was a slow and steady pace, but he made sure to hit deep enough for both of them to start moaning against their lips, which were never more than a few inches apart from each other. Yunho never took his eyes off her face, drinking up every single one of her facial expressions. He moved her hands off his arms so he could hold them in his own, their fingers intertwining with one another. He began to pick up his pace, hips slamming further onto her body. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Yunho captured her lips one more time in a desperate kiss. He only pulled away so she could hear what he had to say.
"You don't know how long I've wanted you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you back in high school, I've yearned to make you mine."
Y/N gasped when he sunk his teeth into her neck, his hands pressing her hard against the mattress as his thrusts became more forceful, ripping out whimper after whimper out of her throat.
"I tried to find someone else....hoping I'd get over you....but none compared to you. I've only ever wanted you."
Y/N was left completely speechless at his words, never imagining he'd actually feel the same way she felt about him. She could see the longing in his eyes and she had no doubts that her own were probably mirroring his feelings at that moment as well. Caressing his face, she found it difficult to get out any coherent words due to Yunho ramming his cock inside her, but eventually she found her voice.
"I love you Yunho."
His hips momentarily stopped when he heard those 4 words, his mind trying to decipher if it was real or another one of his fantasies. Knowing he was doubting what he heard, she repeated herself.
"I love you Yunho."
Lifting her up, Yunho sat her on top of him, his arms holding her so close to him, he could practically smother her.
"Say that again." He begged her.
Y/N began crying out when he began lifting her up and sinking her back down onto his cock, his hips relentlessly bucking up into her. His fingers were gripping onto the sides of her waist so hard they would probably leave prints for days to come. Her nails raked along his back, leaving scratch marks plastered on the top.
"I love you! I love you!" She began chanting loudly through chattering teeth and shaky breathing.
Yunho felt himself go feral at hearing her repeat her words, wanting to hear her say it for so many years.
"Fuck I love you too my darling."
When he shifted angles underneath her slightly, he brushed against her g-spot, making Y/N's whimpers turn even louder and her walls clenched tighter around him.
"Right there love? Does it feel good right there?" He cooed in her ear, fingers brushing against the bulge protruding out of her stomach.
Through tear brimmed eyes, Y/N frantically nodded.
"Yes! Right there feels good. Please keep going, I'm going to cum." She begged him, her nails digging sharply into his skin.
Yunho continued to stroke his hips up, watching intently as Y/N shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth. Holding onto her tightly, he witnessed as she began sputtering incoherent words while her body shook uncontrollably on top of him, her orgasm washing over her and coating Yunho's cock which was still sliding in and out of her. It was such a beautiful scene, seeing her dissolve into immense pleasure that he didn't fall far behind as he began pumping all of his cum into her, shooting a heavy load that some began to spill onto his thighs as he continued to bounce her on top of him, helping them both ride out their highs.
They were so exhausted they ended up collapsing on the bed, their breathing raspy and hoarse. Reaching his hand out, Yunho pulled her body back up against his, wanting to stay as close to her as possible. Brushing some of her hair out of her face, he wiped off some of the smudged eyeliner and mascara that had become messy.
"I look ugly don't I?" She questioned him.
"You're always gorgeous to me, although if you want my honest opinion, I think you're prettier without any makeup on." He nuzzled his nose against hers.
Snuggling close to him, Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling in his scent while her ears listened intently to the beating of his heart. Their fingers began to play with one another, bumping against each other or just clasping and unclasping back and forth.
"So does this make us....?" She looked up at him.
"I mean, I would hope so. I was literally balls deep inside you while I declared my love for you. I would expect us to be official at this rate."
They both laughed softly at his answer.
"We should have been honest with each other a long time ago." She lamented not saying anything before.
"I'll say, I could have been making love to you a long time ago."
Y/N squealed when Yunho flipped her over, making her lie face down while pushing her legs apart.
"Y-Yunho! Already?" She couldn't stop blushing as she felt his dick poking at her ass.
"What can I say beautiful? You rile me up as if I was a teenager again." He had absolutely no shame as he began pushing inside her once again.
"But what if they hear us?" She pointed to the walls, knowing fully well her friends were probably already back in their rooms by now.
Yunho didn't seem to care as he fully shoved himself inside her folds and pressed open mouth kisses on the nape of her neck.
"Well then I hope they brought ear plugs."
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391 notes · View notes
draggeddowntothedark · 3 years ago
Note
🫀 (Just out of curiosity!)
Send me a 🫀 and I'll tell you what Monster of the Week Playbook your character would be.
Oooh this is actually a bit tricky because there's a popular homebrew playbook called Mad Scientist, but Manbat is also ideal for the Monstrous Playbook. So I'll just choose both depending on whether he's Kirk or Manbat!
Mad Scientist Kirk- Bio Genetic Engineering (duh).
Moves would be-
Weird Science!: You have mastered the arts of combining theoretical science and magic. When making a Use Magic move, you may replace one or more of the normal spell requirements set by the Keeper with Weird Science! Requirements.
Sample Weird Science! Use Magic requirements:
 The spell requires a several parts of a freshly deceased corpse.
 The spell requires a mishmash of electrical / mechanical components.
 The spell requires large amounts of electrical energy.
 The spell requires the target to imbibe an alchemical concoction.
 The spell requires the target to be temporarily possessed.
Creature Psychology: You have a special understanding of minions and how they think. You can attempt to use the Manipulate Someone move on minions, regardless of whether they would normally respond to (or even understand) human speech. When you do, roll +Weird instead of +Charm.
You Look Familiar...: Once per hunt, you may ask the Keeper whether you recognize a bit of your old handiwork or something you ran across in your studies. The Keeper can choose to prompt this anytime and as many times as they wish. When you run across something familiar, roll +Sharp:
On a 10+, you can ask two of the questions below.
On a 7-9, you can ask one of the questions below.
On a miss, the Keeper holds 2 against you to be used against future rolls.
Questions:
What is one of this monster's weaknesses?
Do I know who might have created a beast like this?
What is the monster's most deadly ability?
Would this monster be capable of planning this on its own?
What is the monster most likely to do next?
Now for Manbat. Monstrous Playbook.
Curse is pretty obvious-
Feed: You must subsist on living humans—it might take the form of blood, brains, or spiritual essence but it must be from people. You need to act under pressure to resist feeding whenever a perfect opportunity presents itself.
Natural attacks-
Base: teeth (3-harm intimate)
Base: claws (2-harm hand)
Special Moves:
Flight: You can fly.
Unholy Strength: Roll +Weird instead of +Tough when you kick some ass.
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beyondthetemples-ooc · 4 years ago
Text
Owl House s2e4
I keep wanting to post my “““liveblog”““ commentary on this one but it made me Too Emotional to do my usual raving. (My threshold for verbiage when I’m Actually Feeling Emotions is waaay low, okay. At a certain point, I legitimately can’t Make Words Fit the Feelings. So I never figured out what I really want to say about this episode.)
But with my spoon count being critically low lately and the fact that I’m now 3 episodes behind, I just want to post it As Is and get caught up!
So here’s my commentary with Massive Spoilers for “Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances”!
I have a Lot of Questions alongside the feelings, too.
Oooh, stone backstory? Unexpected but welcome.
So uhh. Where did Lilith get her blue stone? Just the "fashionable" thing?
--
"We have never seen a curse quite like this."
I want to know who came up with this crock of horrible. Had they ever experimented with it on someone else? The demon equivalent of animal testing? Is it lesser curses combined like the unholy glyph amalgamation Eda created?
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Upon rewatch: I'm realizing this is where she probably got the idea to use potions for it! Overhearing the Healing Coven guy recommending it. Eda Actually Implemented the Healer’s Advice, and LO. IT MADE A DIFFERENCE.
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Oh wow, I'm not very good at gauging visuals, but Eda must have run away quite young.
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The poster on the bottom right.
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The hair. The guyliner.
Eda listened to emo boy bands, apparently.
--
Guh.
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I Will Never Look Upon Sharp Iron Railings The Same Way Ever Again.
(it’s a Locked Tomb thing. It’s a Pavlovian reaction. It’s also a Nexus thing and it’s also Big Emotional. HHHHFF)
--
...Oh. Huh. So... the suitcase kinda just. Came out of nowhere?
--
THE ALARM CLOCK HAD A HEART.
First Hooty, now this thing?
--
Eda's morning routine looks so much like me on weekdays.
--
The fridge just says "C O O L".
--
"I had no idea this is what I did to you. I am so, so sorry."
Big :C Feelings. Too big for me to write about, but I'm feeling them.
--
"What? Suddenly curious about my past?"
"Always. ALWAYS curious."
Oh, dang, me too. Definitely me too.
(Give me ALL the worldbuilding! All the character developement! All the lore! All the random little bits of trivia that makes this world so CHARMING. But especially about the Clawthornes.)
--
...What's that thing on Gwendolyn's wrist? Right wrist? It kinda reminds me of flan. Or maybe a banana split.
I feel like it's maybe a coven mark, but I can't tell what it is, let alone which one it's for. She joined the Beast Coven, right?
--
"And who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions."
"Actually, I do."
So why doesn't she make her own, then? Why does she have to buy them from an elixir guy if she knows what's in them?
(Then again, I know what's in my medications and supplements, but that doesn't mean I can grow my own valerian and rhodiola and make my own vitamins and CERTAINLY can't make my own prescription meds, even if I theoretically Know How.)
--
...I am so very glad that my mother doesn't treat me like Gwendolyn treats Lilith. My father's kinda... ehhhh. It's super complicated with him... and don't even get me started on my stepmother.
But my mother WILL go out of her way to spend time with me, wants to talk to me, frequently asks how my week's going, helps me figure things out, or just talk... and it's really nice to have her.
--
Gwen, basically: I'll only help you if you help me.
Does she really need Luz's help that bad? Would she have helped her if Luz couldn't give her anything in return? And really, what DOES Luz offer her?
--
...squints.
Squints real hard.
What use does a healer need with those powerful artifacts?
Big Distrust.
(Post-rewatch reaction: V I N D I C A T I O N . )
--
Snowy Ribcage, Swampy Toes, Palm Stings?
So the Giant (Titan?*) that comprises Boiling Isles isn't just a decoration, it's used for geography. We've seen, if I remember correctly, the ribcage and (leg bones, maybe?), but this tells us the skeletal remains may indeed be complete!
(* I've been following a theory that it's the bones of The Titan they venerate, possibly even where their magic comes from. That does beg questions on how it died, if it's even really dead, and how long it's been there if it's so decayed. How long before there was life on the corpus?)
--
"didn't even stick around to watch you hatch"-- I mean, to be fair, from the sound of it, with King saying "something happened" (but he was too small to do anything), he probably WANTED to stick around and watch him hatch, But Something Happened.
--
"Knife season came early this year."
STKFGHNLDLVJAI. Speaking of charming lore. Knife season?
--
...the... night market... even has ice cream? I mean I'm glad they get to experience ice cream on The Boiling Isles, but now I'm seriously trying to figure out what it tastes like.
Especially "Franken-Fruit".
--
Oh no.
Oh no.
Baby's first transformation. <:c
--
....what happens if the "inner beast" catches inner Eda? Is that her way of fighting the curse even when she's “overtaken”?
--
Is Gwen saying "sweet flea", right, not "sweet glee"?
--
"Still got it!"
So it looks like Mama's where Eda gets at least some of her power from, huh?
And/or cleverness that kept Eda on the run.
How many times has Mama Clawthorne done this, I wonder?
--
.......So Mama Gwen has both beastkeeping magic, and could summon those tiles, which seems like it would be more construction coven magic?
--
Does this count as a kaiju fight? (probably not because they're not big enough. But the thought amused me.)
--
"Dang. That is GOOD elixir."
Miracle in a bottle, love.
(I know the feel because when they finally FINALLY tried the meds that actually WORK with my absolutely miserable stomach condition, the relief just to be able to do things normally SOMETIMES is so immense. When you spend so long desperate to make it stop and it just, doesn't, after trying *so many things*, when you finally find something that works even just MOST of the time, you take it and you keep it as close as you can.)
--
I don't really have the spoons to get into it or even figure out how to Do Vague Emoting right now, but every Gwendolyn is saying in the last quarter of the episode is Making Me Emotional. (Especially when she's calming her daughters. T~T)
--
"Titan's Blood"? Bones I get, but where do they get the blood??? (I want to say it's a plant sap or something, like dragon's blood, but I don't want to commit to it.)
--
Not the only human to have lived in Bonesborough? "Titan's Blood"?
Why am I thinking Emperor Belos? (He seems to need some sort of... ichor... to power him. Like artificial witch bile, maybe.)
Although, Gwen talks about her "great grandmother" telling her about this other human. 50 years (of Belos' rule) could be two or three generations, more like two really, but we don't know how old Belos is, or really where he comes from. He could have been that human her great-grandmother knew about before he became Emperor.
--
Also, the fact that "Titan's blood" can cause leaks BOTH ways... Doppelganger Luz?
Real question is, was she an INTENTIONAL plant, or an accidental leak?
--
The Suitcase Portal can be opened intentionally, so can Titan's Blood be used intentionally, too? (Is the Suitcase Portal powered by Titan's Blood?)
--
"Someday MY hair is gonna be big enough to do that, too."
Girl's got a dream!
(And King's "You actually WANT that?" made me grin.)
--
So they even reincorporated the fire bees from s2e1! But have they addressed what happened with the scrying potion Lilith made up for them? What did they see? Anything worth mentioning? Or was the narrative framing meant to be more about Lilith Making The Gesture than The Discoveries?
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atomicblasphemy · 4 years ago
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In the sign of evil
She kept thinking of her battle with the Emperor.
Not the battle itself, or how it would play out next time around, although it would be a lie to say such thought didn’t occupy her mind. After all, she made it through him with barely enough time to save Eda, King, and that other one.
Instead, what truly kept her up at night, what truly haunted her was what she saw in that creature’s eyes. First, she saw what could only be described as pure, unadulterated evil. Something Luz, who had thus far lived a mostly comfortable life, sheltered from the true perils of both worlds she knew, was unacquainted with. In her original realm sure she saw some small glimpses of it. There was the fact that she had for a long time been ostracized by her school peers, made to feel ashamed of being who she really was. But perhaps a more appropriate name for that would be the irreflected propensity for cruelty that some children, in both realms come to think of it, seemed to be obsessed with. Nevertheless, age and the ensuing experience it brings should rid most such children of these evil seeming impulses. And here in the Boiling Isles, even if she could count with a mostly reliable source of protection in her friends and, of course, in her mentor, she had not been unscathed from the semblance of evil’s claws coming to try and reach, abduct her from safety. She could, of the top of her head name at least four names for the list of unrepentant evil doers: Adegast, Tibbles, Boscha and, of course, Lilith. Then again, if anything, Adegast was motivated by sheer spite and while that alone made that monster a threatening foe, it might not be enough for him to entirely qualify to such a strong word as evil; Tibbles was a capitalist, his motivations were simply profit, an opportunist, which meant his approach to morality may be more than a bit lax, frankly Luz wasn’t all too sure whether to call that pig like witch evil or just immoral; as for Boscha, the same as for her bullies back in the human realm applies, whether she was truly an evil doer or just a misguided kid was for time to decide; Lilith, in all frankness Luz failed to come up with any significant argument to abstain her from the title of evil doer, but given how instrumental she was on freeing Eda and King from capital punishment, and then relieving her sister of her curse, Luz ruled in favor of conceding her the benefit of doubt.
However, the Emperor’s eyes… They carried within them an aura far deeper and so much more horror inducing than all of those past experiences combined. She was in those two wholes, those all consuming voids the bottoms of depravity. Ambition corrupted to its furthest extreme. Whatever that creature was, because she held close to her the belief that no witch nor human would ever be capable of conjuring such dread in her very soul, Luz prayed it had no peers, and she wouldn’tbelieve for even the shortest of instants that its plans weren’t boorish, as he himself put it. Truly, defeating that horror was imperative, both for her own sake, as well as for life itself.
Still, none of that was what made sleep avoid her. No, she had seen something else, something other than evil, in those bottomless pits. Something about which the girl simply couldn’t help but to allow her inquisitive mind to ponder.  
There was no mistaking it, she saw a glyph, one unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was intricate, one could even say that, had they been found elsewhere, that the lines and shapes therein were even beautiful, entrancing even.
Luz had replicated it in a small piece of paper, and whenever she found herself alone she would turn her gaze upon it. She knew what a Faustian bargain was, she had read about it in her literature class back at human school, but she never expected to find herself pondering whether or not make one of her own. On one hand, this could bring about the most nefarious effects and essentially grant her foe an uncontested victory, which might as well be tantamount to the destruction of both realms. On the other hand, maybe this could prove to be the source of a power to rival his own, and this could certainly be extremely useful in helping her to release everyone she knew, everyone she cared about, everyone she loved, from the agony of living under that tyrant’s ironclad fist.
She tentatively raised her finger towards the glyph, she had made several in an effort to make sure not to forget anything, down to the smallest detail. She wanted to activate it, she felt as though the risk could be worth it; she wasn’t a magical powerhouse, so whatever its effects were they wouldn’t likely be all that expressive. Right?
Still, it was to risky to do it alone. And she couldn’t jeopardize Eda’s well being further. No, that was unthinkable, luckily for her there were three young witches she knew she could count on.
----------------------------------------------------
“Luz, Amity said she would probably have to stay late in class today and its been almost half an hour.” Gus said, trying his best no to sound discouraging. “I can wait a bit longer, no problem, but maybe we should go ahead with it.”
“Yeah.” Willow spoke, equally trying to sound calming despite her nerves being entirely on edge. “Besides, we don’t what this thing does. And, I think us three should be about enough for this… experiment.”
The three of them sat on an empty classroom, four identical copies of the glyph sitting on a small desk around which the three of them stood, looking attentively at the pieces of paper. Luz couldn’t voice an answer. The decision weighed heavily on her shoulder. She rubbed her temples, hoping a solution would miraculously manifest itself. Amity’s presence, surely, would help her feel safer. After all, their bond had been growing steadily for sometime now, and having three powerful witches guarding her back was better than two. Right? Still, Gus’ and Willow’s words were sound.
She still can’t say a word, her breath coming with more difficulty now. She looks at her friends. She nods. And before either of them can stop her, she ignores her previous reservations and taps on one of the glyphs, activating it.
---------------------------------------
“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late. I ran into Boscha and you wouldn’t be...lieve...” Amity, having just entered the not so empty classroom, felt her words run short. The view was horrid. One of Willow’s vines hung from the ceiling, imprisoning an upside down and surprisingly bored looking Luz. Flanking her stood two figures, a red piece of cloth on which they, despite the complete absence of any sharp objects in the room, somehow had cut a vertical for going all the way up to their noses and  a couple of holes for their eyes. In their hands they held wooden rulers Gus’s made ofillusion magic, long ones at that.
“Oh, hey there Amity. Can you… maybe… help me… please?” Luz whimpered at the only friend of hers currently in the room.
“What… is going… on here…?”
“BLIGHT. BLIGHT. We are so glad you are here. We were expecting you, yes, we knew you would come eventually. How could you not be here, we were expecting you, after all?”
The only way Amity could describe the unfolding scene was as an outbreak of evil. Her once estranged friend had a manic grin on her lips, not unlike that sported by Gus. Their voices, normally so friendly were tinged by something that scared her to her core. Something underlying withing it. No, they hadn’t such sepulchral voices as the ones she heard when they spoke. She couldn’t begin to understand the scene. They were her friends, they had forgiven her past undoings. More importantly, they were Luz’s closest friends in the Boiling Isles. It was all unfathomable.
“Seriously, what in the Titan’s ever loving Isles is happening? Why is Luz tied up? And what is up with those weird masks?”
Luz, seemingly having recovered some amount of fortitude was the first one to answer.
“Oh… Well… You see… Mistakes were made today… We were waiting for you, but I decided to just go ahead with that glyph experiment I told you about and… Now they are evil… Yup, their psyches are totally corrupted… My bad.”
“What?”
“And these, dear Blight, are the unholy evil shrouds with which we hide our identities.” Willow, still sounding ominous, continued with the explanation, pointing her index finger at the rag covering face. “With those none will able to stop as we ascend.”
“What?”
“Yes, dear Blight. Look, we even made one for you too... Actually it was for this ungrateful, unambitious… uhhh… she was going on and on about how ‘no, that’s not who you are’, ‘no, those smell really, really bad’” Gus continued, stopping to shake his head with disapproving eyes at Luz, who simply answered by rolling her own eyes in annoyance. “Anyway, we trust you, dear Blight, will not be as short sighted as this fool. Join us, dear Blight. Join us on our quest for power.”
“Ok, first of all, please stop calling me dear Blight, you sound just like Lilith when I was still under her wing. Second, I still don’t know what any of you are talking about.” Amity, recovering some semblance of sense finally managed to produce a coherent sentence. Two actually.
“Ah yes, dear Blight. We haven’t told you of our plans, have we?” Willow answered as the faint sound of Amity’s huff could be heard. “We shall take over the world, and we want you to join us. Soon the Boiling Isles, nay all the realms, shall tremble at the sound of our mighty RRROOOAAARRRS.” She actually made justice to that last word.
“Why? Willow, Gus… Why would you guys ever want to do something like that? Also… HOW?” She shoots wide eyed glances at the upside down Luz, who was now swinging back and forth, whether trying to loosen the grip of Willow’s vines or just to amuse herself Amity couldn’t tell. “Did… Did the glyph awaken some hidden power within them?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“Yup… I mean, look at these things. Don’t you think they would have done better than that if it did? Like, Gus didn’t even conjure a couple of swords for crying out loud.”
“SILENCE, TRAITOR.” Gus yelled as he whacked Luz over the head with his illusion wooden ruler. “Now, dear Blight, you asked how we intend to achieve such, admittedly, ambitious goals. The answer is simple, dear Blight. By overthrowing that lowly Emperor and seizing the throne for ourselves. How else would achieve the power we so deeply crave?”
“Again… How exactly do you plan on doing that?”
They let out a loud “Ehh” while shrugging.
“We’ll figure it out as we go.” Willow attempted. “Besides, that’s where you come in, dear Blight. You were always the top student of this proud institution, were you not? You shall be the planner, I shall be the raw muscle, and Gus the charisma. We will make such formidable, unstoppable force, you’ll see.” Lifting that red rag with the hand not holding her weapon, Willow proceeded. “Now, put this on and join us, dear Blight.”
Amity sighed once. Then again. Rubbing her temples with both her hands she tried to process all that she learned since entering this forsaken room. She looked her the eyes of horror that took over her possessed friends. Raised both her hands in a deceivingly amicable gesture that actually aimed at eventually disarming the two of them. She, unlike them, had a plan.
“Now, guys. Why don’t we all calm down, talk this out? Willow, you could start by letting Luz loose.” Amity spoke, slowly walking towards Willow and Gus. Luz was still swinging back and forth to the point Amity actually began to believe it was out of sheer boredom, the again, she knew the girl had been in direr straits before. Gus’ and Willow’s began showing the faintest signs of suspicion. “I mean, think about it, you guys don’t even have a plan. And I really can’t help you with this one. But more importantly, this isn’t who you OUCH! What did you do that for?”
“BLASPHEMER!” Gus, having just beaten Amity over the head, yelled. The witchling’s strike actually felt like metal as the weapon collided with Amity’s.skull “How dare you, loathsome Blight, mock the brilliance of our design? THOU SHALL KNOW OUR WRATH!”
And, like that, Gus and Willow raised their weapons, to which Amity responded by bravely running in the opposite direction, looking at Luz in hopes of the girl offering her a solution, she just shrugged.
“I don’t know... all I did was activate the glyph and things started escalating pretty quickly.”
Amity thought of her short life. Had she had time to make up for her numerous mistakes? What would her family make of her demise? She, honestly, expected a more glorious death, perhaps even fighting the Emperor alongside Luz. Definitely, not by the hands of Gus and the girl she tormented and allowed others to torment for years, but maybe that was fitting.
She thought of Luz, she hadn’t had the opportunity to confess her feelings to her quite yet and that’s something she’d soon take to her grave. Until then, she would cherish every interaction, every word exchanged between herself and the human.
And then, two thoughts came to her. Although she possibly had just suffered blunt force trauma, this was done through the use of an illusion. A magical spell. Likewise, Luz was hanging from artificially, magically, created vines. Magic. They were all students of magic. Including herself.
Quickly turning around she summoned one of her largest abominations to date between her assailants and herself. Noticing the threat, Willow and Gus promptly shifted targets.
Progress was undeniably made.
But still, she had a job to do, and she just then noticed that amid the battle somehow a fire had started in one of the room’s corners. She had two jobs to do.
The other thing that had crossed the witchling’s mind, directly resulting from those last words Luz had told her. The glyphs. There were still three of the accursed things sitting on that small desk. A burst of brilliance commanding her to move forth. She held one glyph in each hand, admiring the design for a brief instant. It may be a long shot, but she was short on options. She took a deep breath, bracing all her determination. She had to save her friends, all of them, but especially Luz. She let out the closest thing she could think of for a half decent battle cry.
“TILL WAR!”
And she hit Gus and Willow with that mysterious magic. Now, she could only wait.
--------------------------------------------
Willow woke up, a weird smell assaulting her face. Her last memories were of being with Luz and Gus, as they went through with the glyph related experiment. She was laying on the hardwood floor, next to her Gus also seemed to be recovering his senses. Her headed ached, and judging by the grunts so did Gus’.
But that wasn’t the most surprising part of the scene. That title rested with the abomination happily waving at her while, horizontally, holding a vine wrapped Luz  over its head. She, smiled at them cheerfully. Next to them a small fire raged.
“Hey, you guys are up, thought it’d take longer. Anyway, still hellbent on overthrowing all known existence?”
“Wha… What are you talking about? What happened here?”
“Wait, I refuse to answer without today’s hero’s presence.”
As if on cue, a flustered Amity carrying a witch bucket - not to be mistaken with a human bucket - filled with water broke through the door with a loud bang. She quickly made her way to where the fire burned, making short work of killing it.
She turned around to face the newly conscious duo.
“Willow!” She exclaimed pointing at Luz. Willow quickly liberated the human, who immediately jumped towards Amity, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“My hero. And here I thought I was supposed to be the fearless champion.”
Normally, the way her pale face so easily reddened after virtually any amount of physical exertion was a constant source  of embarrassment for Amity. Now, however, she was thankful for it.
“So...” Gus, finally speaking, broke the moment. “Can you two please explain what happened?”
Amity and Luz shared a troubled glance.
-----------------------------------------------
That had been probably the most uncanny conversation any of them had ever had.  
“So, I think its safe to assume that this is some kind of dark magic glyph that turns everyone present, except the one who activated, it totally evil.” Gus said, pointing at the piece of paper on Amity’s hand. The girls nodded.
“That’s kind of like a curse isn’t it? I mean, if it wasn’t then Luz would have turned evil too, right?” Willow continued.
“Humm… Maybe… then that’d mean that the Emperor is cursed, so we could try to look into a way of reverting it... I don’t know.” Luz, rubbing her chin in an attempt to give off her most scholarly look, hypothesized.
“That is possible, but I don’t think it would be worth it. I mean, look what happened today, this kind of magic seems really dangerous. I vote against us looking into it any further.” Amity countered their arguments. The others, after some reflection, voiced their agreement. She continued, looking at Luz for permission. “So… Can I destroy this?” Luz nodded.
Her blood ran cold. As she performed the motions of ripping it a terrible accident happened.
She tapped the glyph. It activated. -------------------------------- @johnnysfire hope an eleventh hour entry is still acceptable
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janumun · 6 years ago
Text
What He Loved Best
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Game: Mystic Messenger Pairing: Saeyoung/Female Reader Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 6084
Warning tags: family fluff, angst, talk of the future, vaginal sex, violence, character death, thoughts of suicide and self-harm
Please read those tags carefully before you proceed!
Summary:
 Set 3 Years After Seven’s Good End Saeyoung is a happy man. His life is all the more better for having his brother and his beloved girlfriend in it. But when past shadows catch up to him, Seven finds his world crashing down around him all over again.
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The very first thing Seven fell in love with was that voice. The first time he called this mysterious gullible creature through the app and asked her to say “I love you” like those stuffed teddy bears did; and she said it, much to his surprise and absolute delight — Saeyoung knew then and there that he was absolutely and completely screwed.
~*~
“Say it again, once more, just like the teddy be-” Saeyoung was cut off by a pillow to the face, positively hooting with laughter as he stared at his very adorable girlfriend, turning a pretty shade of red at his request.
“Saeyoung!”
Seven spoke in a deep monotone in imitation of his best customer service operator voice. “Say it gullible customer, or, we may not be able to help you recover your account.” He had expected her to start cursing at this point, wage an aerial war on him with whatever objects she could find to use as deadly projectiles, grow even more embarrassed at his prodding — or a combination of any of those three — but just like the first time she did it, she left him utterly speechless.
With cheeks flaming almost as red as his hair, she toyed with the edges of her shirt as she spoke in a barely audible voice.
“Honey, I love you~”
There was a moment of silence before Seven grabbed her arm, pulling her onto their bed and underneath him. Hovering over her vulnerable form, the bulge in his pants starting to make itself noticeable. “What did you say?”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, before the slope of her mouth slowly turned upward and she batted her eyes at him flirtatiously, giving him such unholy thoughts, he prayed to his God to let him keep his senses about him just that little bit longer.
“I said ‘Honey, I lov—’” He took her mouth in a wild kiss, practically tearing his shirt off her body.
Saeyoung spent his sweet time obtaining that unfinished confession from every inch of her body for the rest of that night.
~*~
“Aren’t you being too one-sided? What am I supposed to do with these feelings I have for you?”
“I said I don’t care about your feelings!! There’s a bomb in here, your life is in danger, you don’t — you don’t deserve this!”
“Seven I-”
“Nothing good will come of you being so kind to a bad person like me. A bad person like me doesn’t deserve good people like you.”
“Saeyoung. I. Will. Stay. I love you for God’s sake!”
Seven woke up with a start; his body covered in cold sweat from his dreams nightmares as he looked around their his room, blinking away the wisps of fitful sleep from his eyes. She sat at the edge of his bed, stroking his hair as she smiled down at him cheekily. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. I made us breakfast.”
Seven felt his heart rate returning to normal - calming down with her presence. He called her name as he reached out for her face.
“Saeyoung.” A low sorrowful voice spoke to him from the doorway. Seven turned toward the voice in confusion. “Saeran? What are you—”
He cut himself off when he turned back to look at her. She was gone. She wasn’t there. He was reaching out into empty air. Purposelessly, his arm fell back to his side on their his bed, his hands fisting into their his sheets, the smell of her still so imbued in them, he wanted to sob in agony but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. He couldn’t move.
“Saeyoung.” His twin called out to him again, making his way into the bedroom on quick footsteps, stopping to lean by his side.
Seven turned to his brother; eyes painfully dry as he murmured. “She’s not here, is she?”
Saeran’s face contorted into a look of pain so intense Seven had to turn his face away from it. He couldn’t take in any more…. any more sorrow. He had had enough of it to last him a lifetime. Arms pulled at him and he suddenly found himself in Saeran’s suffocating embrace, his brother holding onto him tightly as if his very life depended on it.
Saeran held onto him and cried; he cried for his brother who had lost the one person who had kept him grounded to this life when nothing else could, he cried for what his family had been like, the three of them so happy and content, he cried for the woman he had loved so very much in his own way. He cried and cried and cried.
~*~
He looked at her happy face and laughed half-heartedly. “I don’t understand how you can like someone like me.”
“No complex algorithm to that, I just do… Seven, Luciel, Saeyoung… whatever you choose to be now or some day in the future, I love you because it’s you, genius.”
Several days after announcing her absolute refusal to ever budge concerning her feelings for him, Seven stood in her kitchen as he tried to whip up a pancake batter, just as she had taught him earlier. It was safe to assume that he was failing spectacularly at it. Give him a computer and he’d hack into the biggest and most secure databases of the world — no, scratch that — the universe, but here stood pathetic God 707 defeated at a mere trial of pancake making.
“What’re you doing?” A voice called out at his shoulder and Seven almost jumped, not having noticed her creep up behind him, still in her nightwear, simple and sexy. It almost sent him out of orbit.
Seven could just about picture it: Honorable Agent 707 falls to the wiles of a minx. He died a happy yet quick death, do not despair, fellow martyrs —
“Pancakes…! Or… they were supposed to be…” he looked at her sideways, eyes wide in best imitation of an apology. She laughed at him.
Bless her beautiful laughter, she was laughing because of him —
Her gaze flicked downward to survey the damage that had been done, analyzing the mess and whether it could be saved. “What did you put in?” She asked and he listed off the steps he had followed up to this sorry state. Midway through, Seven felt something warm — then wet — touch the corner of his mouth. He jerked his head toward her, eyes wider than saucers. She had licked him! He opened and closed his mouth in an attempt at regaining some form of semblance but his mind had blanked out on him.
Error 404
“You had some batter on your cheek. Tastes good though so I don’t think you messed that up,” she continued nonchalantly, dipping one finger into the bowl to scoop some more of his batter into her mouth, lightly sucking at her digit.
707 REBOOT FAILED. REBOOT FAILED
Oh dear God, he wanted to see something else pass between those lips of hers. He grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around to face him before pressing his own lips against hers. She stiffened for a moment before her mouth went lax and she kissed him back. Seven pulled back just enough to stare into her face, noticing the top of her cheeks had turned pink.
How cute, he chuckled to himself, the overwhelming desire to tease her to her wits end taking over. He ran his tongue over his dry lips in an effort to return moisture  to them. Her eyes followed the movement, completely mesmerized. He grinned deviously, moving closer and when her eyelids fell shut in anticipation, that is when Seven stopped hesitating and gave her the taste of a proper kiss.
That morning she had her breakfast in bed.
They could always work together on making edible pancakes some other day. After all, he had promised his entire life to her, whatever days of it were afforded to him.
~*~
“You could leave whenever you want; instead you choose to stay here with me, thank you.”
Seven hated the name ‘Saeyoung’. It was the name his sorry excuse of a mother had given to him, not to mention how it reminded him of the coward who had abandoned his brother and had remained blind to the horrors that had befallen his brother after he had left him there to rot in that hell-hole. He absolutely despised the man Saeyoung Choi which is why he preferred to go by his baptismal name Luciel whenever he wasn’t 707.
Luciel like the archangel Lucifer, the one who fell from the grace of God; the name reminded him daily of what he should never be like. He had always wondered if down the road, Luciel would get his own happy ending but with time that hope had diminished until finally dying away without notice. Or so he had thought.
“Saeyoung.”  He turned at the sound of his name, spoken with such clarity and belief that Luciel felt cleansed of all his sins. He wanted to be Saeyoung again, he didn’t want to run anymore. He didn’t want to forget anymore. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.
The person who took him by the hand and led him to that point was her. He would forever be grateful to her. She had loved him when he was 707, she had loved him through the ugly and weak Saeyoung and she still continued to love him; Luciel, Seven, Saeyoung… Being with her had made him want to be a new Saeyoung. The Saeyoung who protected his family, the Saeyoung who wasn’t weighed down anymore. Now, he only  wanted to be a normal man, the one called Saeyoung Choi.  
~*~
It had been exactly six months of them being together before Saeyoung could start considering taking her out on a normal date. He had had a lot to sort through during those six months.
His brother, Mint Eye, the agency… it had taken up every waking moment of his life until then but they had been together. He hadn’t been alone. They had made it. His brother was back and they were together. Saeran was working through it, they were working through it together and he could see… she was helping his brother so much.
He could tell how much she already meant to him and he was happy for them, so much so he prayed for her to always be there for Saeran even if someday… she wasn’t able to, for Saeyoung.
He could hear their faint voices even now, out in the living room where she was busy teaching forcing Saeran how to play this new game she had downloaded off of the app store. He sighed to himself, shaking his head fondly.
Downloading the RFA’s messenger off  of some unknown source is what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. His girl simply had no sense of caution, he thought, chuckling to himself before turning back to his computer screen to google some famous dating spots, ideas for the perfect first date, how to NOT embarrass yourself on first dates, the best mints to carry in your pocket for surprise date kisses, would my girlfriend say yes if I asked her if she wanted to break into one of our friends’ penthouses to steal his cat (Google just gave him the addresses and numbers of famous shrinks as well as some helpline numbers so he begrudgingly gave up on that idea).
Growling out his frustration, he threaded  his fingers behind his head, thinking hard. Nope. His brain cells were drawing up a zero. What was the use of being an exalted genius hacker and ex-secret agent if you couldn’t even think up of one place to take your girlfriend to on a date?
This was no good, he needed—
“Hard at work?” She asked, unceremoniously dumping herself into his lap, a packet of Honey Buddha chips in hand. Ah, his baby knew him so well. She lifted a chip to his mouth and Saeyoung snatched it up hungrily before smiling down at her.
A serving of Honey Buddha chips and one awesome girlfriend, what more could he ask for?
“Saeran and I are going to watch a horror movie. It’s all the rage on NiteFlix. Super scary. Are you going to join us?” She asked, licking her fingers clean of off chips’ dust. Her fingers seemed tasty i n that moment, of course he wanted a taste. Dropping his mouth open to take a finger into his mouth, she let out the cutest squeak before flushing red.
The corners of his mouth were starting to pull into a devilish smirk, his mind working out all sorts of nefarious and bawdy ideas before his train of thought was cut off by a loud snarl from the living room.
“You better not be thinking of doing anything remotely demented while I’m here, or I’ll cut off that dick you think with, asshole!” Oops, apparently Saeran had heard her mewling in his lap. Guess his domination of her would have to wait.
She giggled at Saeran’s terrifying threat before jumping off of his lap. He was immediately sorry to lose the warmth of her ass on his thighs.
“You coming then?” She asked again, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek but he wouldn’t let her pull away, not without giving her a long wet kiss in return.
Would it work if he gagged her, stopping her moans so that he could play with her a bit before Saeran noticed and came to whoop his ass?
She pulled away this time, still slightly pink in the face before she pinched his cheeks. “You sexy deviant.”
“Mm hmm,” he acknowledged before pulling her close to bury his face in her scent. Her hands immediately came around him. “I’ll be out in a while babe. Go ahead.”
“Alright.” She moved back before heading out, stopping just at the door. “I’ll be waiting.” She cocked a flirtatious smile his way, batting her eyelashes before slinking away. Damn, always making him want to chase after her.
He swiveled his chair back before turning off his computer. Snatching the forgotten packet of HB off his desk, he went outside to join his family in the living room.
All the lights were turned off and his eyes moved over to the sofa to see her already cowering into a very stiff Saeran’s side who was holding her awkwardly. Mischief bubbling up inside, he crept up behind them, noiselessly bending over, one eye trained on the movie. It was a zombie movie he had seen before. This was the part with the jump scare.
TV: AAAAARGHHH
Saeyoung bellowed into their ears at the same time as the ghoul on TV, earning such delightful horrified reactions from his victims he doubled over cackling, the poor souls clinging onto each other as if their lives depended on it.
She had let out such a loud and long screech that her mouth just noiselessly quivered now as she kept her hands fisted tightly into Saeran’s shirt.
“I fucking hate you so much Saeyoung!” She wailed, although he could see she was smiling a little even if it was wobbly. The warmth and laughter he had earned off of his cheap fiasco was worth all the bones Saeran threatened to break and all the suffocating head locks he got soon after.
Snuggled between the two brothers some half an hour later, she sighed contentedly as she told Saeyoung that a home theatre wasn’t bad for their first official date.
He fucking loved her.
~*~
“Even if I have to die, I will protect you.”
Saeran had insisted on going grocery shopping with her and had refused to be persuaded otherwise so she had reluctantly agreed to let him come with.
Saeyoung felt guilty for leaving her to do the shopping when he had promised her earlier that he would go. He threw his twin an apologetic, grateful smile which Saeran waved off wordlessly, dragging her away still protesting, and out of the house.
Saeyoung sighed, turning back to his computer, his current job still left undone. The flow of work for a man of his qualifications was steady and plenty.
She helped with the household expenses with her own job as a writer.
Saeran, too, had recently landed a job at the local grocery store; they were hardly tight for money. And yet, Saeyoung felt himself glancing worriedly around the house these days. He didn’t know where that feeling stemmed from, he didn’t know how it had started but every now and then he felt a chill hit him as if it meant to freeze his very heart over; a persistent, uneasy feeling.
He had been monitoring his old agency’s workings to see if anything was amiss but everything seemed fine.
On the surface.
The agency was still a mess after he had wreaked havoc almost three years back and it didn’t look like it would be getting stability any time soon. Yet, he worried. He was so worried he had pleaded with his family to let him keep track of them at all times they were out of the house. They had both reassured him but had agreed for the sake of his peace of mind.
He turned on the monitor absently for the security cameras in their vicinity, keeping one eye firmly fixed to the monitor even as his fingers flew across the keyboard to get his pending work finished.
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“I didn’t want you coming along shopping for your own birthday feast, doofus.” She complained, placing their shopping bags into the trunk with a huff.
“And I didn’t want you coming here alone all by yourself. Especially when he’s so paranoid these days.” Saeran stated matter-of-factly, tossing his own bags into the open trunk. “Besides, he’d worry even more if you insisted on throwing us a party on all your own and I also… wanted to help.” His voice had fallen several octaves and by the end of his sentence she could barely hear him.
She peered into his face to catch the tinge of red blooming across his cheeks. She broke into a toothy grin, threading her arm through his affectionately. “You’re a sweetheart Saeran and I love you for that.”
“Stop that…” he protested weakly, trying to pull his arm away without much enthusiasm but she held on, her smile deepening.
“But you know, this is also my apology dinner to you for making you so angry with me a few days back.” She smiled at him sincerely which flustered Saeran further.
“That’s because you’re a workaholic idiot like that dolt of a brother and kept skipping your meals. You sure made me prance all over the place when you finally did fall ill.”
She chuckled at that, earning a half-hearted glare from him.
Saeran had hated this short little girl when she had first appeared in front of him with his brother. He had thought her to be a selfish bitch who cared for nothing but frolicking around, foolishly in love with his brother but no… he had been wrong.
She was half the reason he had been saved. She was warm, kind and so, so patient with them both— perhaps more than they deserved. He was happy that his brother had ended up with such an amazing person in his life. He was glad to have her in his life. He had grown so fond of her over the years that life without her lighting up their house seemed nigh impossible. He loved her. That is why when his brother started fretting over their safety, he had grown cautious as well, although she was still not vigilant enough.
She was the sort of person who believed in seeing the positive in everything. He was almost exasperated with her cool-headedness at times.
The defeated sound she let out was what snapped Saeran out of his reverie. She was crouching beside their car, squinting under the lights of the underground parking as she looked at the tire in dismay. Saeran made his way over to her side. The tire was completely flat.
“This isn’t good; we’ll have to get this fixed as soon as possible or your big brother is going to die waiting for us. Saeran, can you hand me the tools from the backseat please?”
All of a sudden, Saeran shot bolt upright, the sound of his phone ringing, piercing through the eerie quiet. He pulled out his phone, answering to an out-of-breath Saeyoung. “…ere!” He cut the call as fast as he could, grabbing hold of her arm to wrench her up and against his side.
“Ow! Saeran what the—” He clapped her mouth shut, eyes alert as he stared at their surroundings. She fell quiet just as fast, pulling out the gun she kept hidden on her person. Saeran fished for his pocket knife, mentally cursing himself for having left his gun back home in his hurry to get her out of the house.
Just then, a warning bullet fired into the ground mere inches from his feet. Beside him, he felt her breath catch in her throat at the shot. Saeran bared his teeth menacingly before slinking into the shadows of the pillars around them, ready for the kill.
~*~
“I’m dangerous meow. Everyone seems to have forgotten how dangerous hackers are since I’m nice and normal, but hackers hide like cockroaches, but are poisonous and exist everywhere.”
 Saeyoung broke a dozen traffic rules speeding his way toward them. His bad feeling had come true. His bad feeling had come true. Someone was after them. No, someone was targeting either her or Saeran and he hadn’t been able to see it coming. His glasses slid down his nose a little, owing to the nervous sweat that had gathered there. His shaking hands gripped the wheel tighter, praying to his God for their safety.
Please please please. Not again. I beg of you. Let me get there in time.
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Saeran skulked noiselessly up to the bastard hiding behind one of the cars before snaking a hand around his mouth, slitting his throat just as smoothly. He hadn’t done anything filthy ever since leaving Mint Eye but hells, if he needed these hands to protect his own, he would do so without second thought.
He felt a silenced shot go elsewhere as he pulled off a gun from the corpse of his first kill. He whipped his head up to see she had taken down two more. Saeyoung had taught her well. Even if she looked as clueless and pacifistic as she did, she had been the one to request Saeyoung to teach her how to use a weapon. She hadn’t refuted the possibility of them always being in danger due to Saeyoung’s previous jobs. His brother had been understandably reluctant but when Saeran had backed her up, telling him this would only aid in her protection, he had relented.
Now, here she was, safely keeping to the shadows as she had been taught by both Choi twins, firing those shots, killing actual humans like some pro-agent herself.
Saeran moved forward, heavily aware of the danger they were in as he moved onto his next target. If they could just get outside somehow, they could escape and work over weeding out their enemies from a safe distance.
There was a commotion far in front of him, the sound of multiple bodies falling to the ground with a sickening thud. His phone buzzed silently, once, twice, thrice in his pocket letting him know the beast out front was indeed the elder Choi. He frowned a little, firing at a target a few paces ahead. About fucking time.
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The adrenaline was pumping harshly through Seven’s veins. He had skidded to a stop as soon as he had entered the garage to see a line of men blocking the exit.
They turned toward him in unison, hands reaching for hidden weapons but he was faster. Latching onto the nearest man, he took a hold of his head, twisting it clean round its axis. Using the corpse as a shield for the first shot fired at him, he lunged toward the men, emptying bullets into livers, hearts and brains until he was crouched among a small sea of bodies.
He let out a quivering breath, the familiar nausea settling into his gut that came with this kind of work. Even as a secret agent, he had always preferred attacking his enemies from behind a computer screen rather than this direct brutality. Right now, however, he was grateful for his training. Pulling the gun out of one of the dead men’s hands he turned it over, his stomach sinking at finding the mark he had been looking for. T13, a gang of his boss’ personal men carried weapons with these marks. Seven got to his feet, his heart beating faster. He had to find them and quick. They weren’t safe here. There were still seven of these men out there thirsty for their blood.
Seven was alerted to the sounds of guns going off further inside and he ran, following the sound with a prayer uttered with every step. His heart almost stopped beating when he saw her and Saeran surrounded, though the two kept firing at whatever enemy came nearer, they were without a doubt being cornered. Seven fired his own shots, men ducking left and right, making it hard to get a clear hit. He yelled in frustration, rushing further into the melee when his eyes happened to spot a well hidden shadow against the overhanging support.
Shit. He had missed one. The man was out of Seven’s shooting range, his gun already locked onto his target. Saeran.
Seven’s mouth went dry, his legs turning to lead. He felt himself scream as if from afar.
Saeran’s body twisted toward his older brother’s distraught shouts before a dark figure shot out across his field of vision, pushing Saeran out of harm’s way.
Saeran’s body collapsing against the asphalt was what undid Seven’s paralysis and he bolted toward his fallen brother and his savior. Saeran’s eyes were blown wide with fear before he let out a blood curdling howl, shooting at the remaining men haphazardly as if crazed.
The man on the overhead support had cocked his gun toward Saeran again but this time Seven was faster, swiftly taking him out with bitter vengeance. As the final man fell onto the ground, Seven closed the final distance between his brother and—
God. No no no no.
Her name left his lips on a dying whisper, drowned out by Saeran’s yells of pain and agony so deep it cut through him like a knife that twisted and pulled at his gut before he collapsed next to her, motionless and vacant.
Saeran was clutching at her chest in a desperate attempt to stop the blood from pumping out while her body lay listless underneath his hands. He was screaming at her to get up but Seven couldn’t focus.
He looked down at her face and he saw nothing. She was trembling slightly and was trying to say something but he couldn’t hear her over the static in his ears.
One shaky hand lifted a gun toward Seven and he hoped she would shoot him then, taking him with her but she missed. The bullet flew past Seven’s head, a strangled cry following soon after.
He turned his head as if in slow motion to see his former boss lying on the floor, grasping at his shoulder. That was when Seven started feeling again and it hurt, it fucking hurt. An inhumane snarl ripped from his throat as he stalked over to the prone figure, firing bullet after bullet into his legs, his arms, missing all his vital points but enough to hurt him. The pathetic creature screamed at his feet but it still wasn’t enough. The bastard wasn’t feeling enough yet.
He was squealing like a pig brought to slaughter at a few stray wounds when he had just ripped Seven’s heart from his chest. “Why?” He bellowed, firing another round into the man’s body.
The man coughed but refused to answer, bringing Seven’s further wrath upon him. He knelt down, discarding his empty gun to the side and started beating the insect with his bare fists.
In between hits, the man managed to groan, “No one escapes the agency unscathed, mongrel. We didn’t… didn’t manage to take out all of you but we…”
BANG
Silence descended upon them. Seven turned around to see a heavily breathing Saeran, gun pointed straight at the dead bastard.
Seven rushed back to her side, lifting her head onto her lap.
“S-Sae….”
“Hush, hush, don’t speak baby. We’ll have you patched up real soon. Just don’t speak. Conserve your energy.”
“….oo… late….”
“No. NO. It isn’t too late! We can save you, my sweet honey. You aren’t thinking of leaving me at this point, are you? Haha, I would be lost without you…” Seven’s voice was rising in hysteria as he laughed at her bad joke. Her pulse was becoming less palpable by the second.
“Saeran… SAERAN!! Call an ambulance. Hurry up! Call an ambulance!!!”
Saeran crumpled next to her, phone in one shaking hand, looking down at her mutely, the tears running fast down his cheeks. He grabbed one of her hands in his, squeezing roughly.
She took one last shuddering breath, hands squeezing weakly around each twin’s before her grip went slack.
~*~
“You are my whole universe. Your breaths become the radiant milky way.”
 “Hey.”
“Hmm?”
Saeyoung’s fingers traced random circling patterns across her tummy as she lay in his embrace, back pressed against his chest.
“Someday, when you and I are both ready… do you wanna get married?”
She stopped fiddling with her phone to glance back at him. Saeyoung expected her to burst into laughter at his sudden question. The prolonged silence did nothing for his nerves and just as he was preparing to take his words back with an ill-timed gag –
“Sure.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I said sure. Let’s get married, Saeyoung.”
Saeyoung shot right up, staring down at her in undisguised disbelief.
She stared right back, brow knitted into a frown. “What’s with that reaction? Don’t tell me you were just joking —”
“I wasn’t!” he interrupted her, eagerly.
Her moue relaxed into a smile at his response. “Oh.”
Saeyoung settled down against her again, pulling her even closer than before. He buried his face in her shoulder, cuddling her tight. She laughed against his childish onslaught of attention-seeking and affection.
“That was pretty surprising though, proposing to me like that out of nowhere.”
“Psh, baby, that wasn’t a proposal at all. I was just… making sure I wouldn’t get rejected once I actually did propose.”
She laughed then, turning around in his embrace to face him. “I’ll be expecting something Seven-esque spectacular then.” She placed a gentle kiss against his lips.
“You just wait for it.” he gave her a happy smile before it turned rakish. “We can get working on the second phase of the ‘Seven plus Wifey project’ right now, though, can’t we?”
“What phase is that then?”
“Baby making.” His grin widened, before he dived headfirst under her shirt, making her screech and hit at him in response before her delighted yelps dissolved into sensual moans as Seven sucked and played at her bare breasts.
One hand slipped down her abdomen toward her bare legs, fingers skirting along her inner thighs before settling at her panties. Pushing the fabric aside, he hooked his fingers into her to feel for her arousal.
She was dripping, much to his delight.
Divesting her of her one article of clothing, he jeered.
“What a perverted wife I’ve got. How long have you been letting thoughts of jumping poor unsuspecting me stew in that dirty mind of yours?” he asked, placing small wet kisses across her stomach, enjoying the slight flutter of her abdominal muscles underneath his mouth.
“W-wouldn’t you… mm… like to know.” Flashing him a voracious smile, she hooked her arm around his neck, pulling him down to taste at that impish grin of his.
“O future husband of mine, shouldn’t you get down to the sacred act of impregnating me already?”
He chuckled against her mouth, looking up to meet her playful gaze.
Bunching up her panties, he impatiently pulled them down her legs before he pushed into her just as urgently, making them both moan in unison.
“Wife… hah… you have endured well for my sake,” he intoned in a low voice.
God, no matter how many times they did it, it felt amazing every single time without fail. She felt amazing: tight and wet and perfect.
When she began to buck her hips against him on her own, he grabbed at her pelvis before thrusting his own lust into her, hungry lips finding purchase on hers.
“Hngh… Saeyoung… Saeyoung!”
And when she called his name in that needy voice of hers, Saeyoung knew there was little else wonderful than hearing it on her every breath.
Folding himself over her, he nuzzled into her neck, breathless as he was, letting the sensation of her all around him; her scent, her hair tickling at his forehead, her sweaty body against his own, guide him into bliss.
~*~
“… I am so sorry to get you involved in this…“
 Binary numbers whizzed past in a rapid blur across the screen in green luminous columns - the only light source in a darkened room - a sharp contrast to Seven’s stagnant mind.
He sat slumped in his chair, legs pulled up against his chest as he watched the progress.
Hours, days, weeks… he wasn’t oriented to time without her any more, focused single-mindedly on the task at hand.
He had wanted to die. And he had. The day he had felt her life drain out from her, right underneath his fingers as he had felt her heart slow to a sickening beat and then stop… completely.
The ambulance had arrived not for a patient but for a dead body. Hers.
Seven closed his eyes against the morbid image, letting his head fall back against his seat.
His dreary eyes traveled to the unfinished, now stale, coffee Saeran had brought to him earlier in the evening.
His eyes caught the bag of unopened Honey Buddha chips, hidden away just underneath his desk. It had been the last of their stash, one she had laid claim to.
He could still recall her indignant cries as he had teased her with empty threats of eating them before she ever got her own hands on it.
She had told him that the competition was on. That she would protect the last bag with her life and would see to it that he never found it before she was ready to enjoy it on one of her movie nights.
He had accepted the challenge.
How long ago had that been?
Burying his face in his hands, Seven pulled at his hair as if he could somehow extricate the pain of it all from his brain.
He wanted to reach for his pocket knife — anything sharp would do — and slit his wrists open with it this very instant.
He wanted to reach for her bottle of sleeping pills and jam a dozen of them into his mouth, so that he too could join her in eternal sleep.
He wanted—
 It didn’t matter what he wanted. He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t abandon Saeran. Alone, without anyone else. Not again. Never again.
Not when he, they… had saved him together. No, he would not do it. She would never forgive him if he did.
So, with an empty husk left for a life, the only thing left for him was this.
He looked up at a ping from the screen.
PROCESS COMPLETED
He would dig out every single worm. He would crush them as mercilessly beneath his feet as they had his heart, his life, half his soul. Oh, he would live alright. He would live for her.
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A/N: I sad wrote this in the December of 2018 after I wrapped up Seven’s route, only getting down to finish it now.
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thecreaturecodex · 6 years ago
Text
Great Old One, Kyuss
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“Dungeon 135 Cover” by Wayne Reynolds, © Paizo Publishing.
[Kyuss here is a milestone in a number of ways. He’s the last of my Age of Worms conversions. He’s my first CR 30 monster, which is as high as CRs get in Pathfinder RPG. And he’s my 650th unique entry in the Creature Codex!
These statistics are based primarily on the Dungeon Magazine version of Kyuss, but toned down. Kyuss didn’t need four different spell lists. The spell stowaway ability is a feat from the 3.0 Epic Level handbook, which I gave to Kyuss since in my game, one of the PCs loved to abuse time stop. The resultant battle, in which a PC soloed the Wormgod for 4 rounds and survived, is still talked about around my table more than a decade later.]
Great Old One, Kyuss CR 30 NE Aberration This immense giant is composed of thousands of writhing worms woven together in a mockery of the humanoid form. It cloaks its form in a ragged gray robe, and immense orange eyes glow hatefully under its hood. It carries a bladed mace in its hands.
Kyuss The Wormgod, the Worm that Walks, the Parasite Divine NE male Great Old One of decay, undeath and apocalypse Domains Death, Destruction, Evil, Magic Subdomains Catastrophe, Decay*, Divine, Undead Worshipers avolakias, nihilists, the duped Minions wormtouched undead, overworms, Kyuss wormswarms Unholy Symbol A human skull with green worms pouring from the eyes and mouth Favored Weapon executioner’s mace *Clerics of Kyuss can use the Decay subdomain to modify the Death domain
Kyuss, the Wormgod, is the architect of apocalypse and the creator of a panoply of undead. His ultimate goals are to usher in the Age of Worms, an era in which all mortals are converted into undead and the world is a writhing nightmare. He has very nearly succeeded in these goals, but was thwarted by great heroes and cast once more into imprisonment. But Kyuss stirs in his tomb, and the Age of Worms may begin in a far-away planet or plane.
Kyuss is perhaps unique among the Great Old Ones in that he was once a mortal. An executioner of a jungle city in a cruel theocracy, he clawed his way to the role of high priest and then priest-king. Obsessed with immortality and despising the frailties of flesh, he experimented with spell weaver magic and the green worms which now bear his name. In a mythic ritual, he stripped the life force of an entire empire and poured it into his own body, hoping to achieve godhood. Kyuss failed by inches, achieving eternal life but becoming a writhing thing instead of an ascendant deity, trapped in a shard of indestructible black stone. It is this shard that is both Kyuss’ sanctuary and prison, and from which he emerges to wreak ruin on the world.
In his millennia of study and plotting, the Parasite Divine has discovered a pernicious way of increasing his power. Rather than gain worship directly, he does so mostly through fear and deception. A number of cults founded by his monstrous minions or his few true humanoid believers shroud Kyuss’ true nature in layers of lies, allowing him to sip from the power of belief provided by the unknowing. Even knowing Kyuss’ true nature and that of his plots is not enough, for Kyuss draws energy from creatures fearing him as surely as he does from those worshiping him. If Kyuss were to achieve his goals and achieve true divinity, he would be a powerful and dangerous god indeed.
In combat, Kyuss is nothing short of ruinous. He combines a variety of necromantic spells with blows from an immense black mace. Even if disarmed, his physical attacks are horrific—he can engulf a foe and strip the flesh from them in seconds, returning them to a hideous parody of life as one of his scions. Kyuss rarely fights alone, calling on broodfiends, wormdrakes and powerful undead of many kinds to serve as distractions and cannon fodder.
Kyuss    CR 30 XP 9,830,400 NE Huge aberration (Great Old One) Init +22; Senses blindsight 300 ft., darkvision 120 ft., Perception +53, true seeing Aura unspeakable presence (300 ft, DC 42), zone of desecration (120 ft.) Defense AC 45, touch 45, flat-footed 23 (-2 size, +12 Dex, +25 insight) hp 752 (35d8+595); fast healing 30 Fort +28, Ref +25, Will +34 DR 20/-; Immune ability damage, ability drain, acid, aging, cold, critical hits, death effects, disease, energy drain, mind-affecting effects, paralysis, petrification, single-target spells, sneak attack, stunning; SR 41; 46 vs. divinations Defensive Abilities amorphous, immortality, insanity (DC 42), negative energy affinity, spell stowaway Offense Speed 50 ft., burrow 50 ft., climb 50 ft., swim 50 ft. Melee Mace of Kyuss +43/+38/+33/+28 (4d6+27/19-20x3) or 2 slams +40 (2d8+16 plus grab) Space 15 ft; Reach 15 ft. Special Abilities channel negative energy (25/day, 10d6, DC 42), create spawn, devastation beam, engulf, mythic power (10/day, surge +1d12), thanatoic nightmares Spell-like Abilities CL 30th, concentration +45 (+49 casting defensively) Constant—freedom of movement, nondetection, tongues, true seeing At will— create undead, create greater undead, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, harm M (DC 31), nightmare M (DC 30) 3/day— control undead (DC 31), disintegrate M (DC 31), finger of death M (DC 32), quickened greater dispel magic, quickened harm M (DC 31), empowered horrid wilting (DC 33) 1/day—mage’s disjunction (DC 34), power word kill M, summon (level 9th, 2d4 broodfiends or wormdrakes, 100%), wail of the banshee (DC 34), wish M Spells CL 20th, concentration +35 (+39 casting defensively) 9th—astral projection, energy drain (DC 36), gate, miracle, overwhelming presence (DC 34), quickened slay living (DC 32) 8th—antimagic field M, quickened divine power, fire storm M (DC 33), greater spell immunity, quickened inflict critical wounds M (DC 31, x2) 7th—blasphemy M (DC 32), destruction (DC 34), ethereal jaunt, mass inflict serious wounds (DC 34), quickened prayer, quickened protection from energy, repulsion 6th—blade barrier M (DC 31), forbiddance (DC 31), harm M (DC 33), mass eagle’s splendor, plague storm (DC 33), quickened spiritual weapon M, word of recall 5th—dispel good (DC 30), flame strike (DC 30), greater command (DC 30), scrying (DC 30), quickened shield of faith, slay living (DC 32), unhallow 4th—air walk (x2), dimensional anchor, inflict critical wounds M (DC 31), sending, terrible remorse, unholy blight M (DC 29) 3rd—bestow curse (DC 30), blindness/deafness (DC 30), contagion (DC 30), inflict serious wounds (DC 32), invisibility purge, magic circle vs. good (DC 30), prayer M, speak with dead (DC 32) 2nd—bull’s strength, darkness, death knell (DC 31), hold person (DC 29), make whole, resist energy, silence (DC 29), spiritual weapon M 1st—bane (DC 30), deathwatch, detect undead, divine favor, entropic shield, protection from good (DC 28), sanctuary (DC 28), shield of faith M 0th—bleed (DC 29), detect magic, guidance, read magic Statistics Str 42, Dex 34, Con 45, Int 38, Wis 41, Cha 41 Base Atk +26; CMB +44 (+48 grappling); CMD 76 Feats Combat Casting, Command Undead, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Craft Wondrous Item, Empower SLA (horrid wilting), Greater Spell Focus (necromancy), Greater Vital Strike, Improved Critical (executioner’s mace), Improved Vital Strike, Lightning Reflexes, Mythic Spell Power, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (greater dispel magic, heal) Quicken Spell, Spell Focus (necromancy), Spell Penetration, Vital Strike Skills Acrobatics +50, Bluff +50, Climb +62, Diplomacy +50, Escape Artist +50, Intimidate +53, Knowledge (arcana) +52, Knowledge (dungeoneering, nature, planes, religion) +49, Perception +53, Sense Motive +53, Spellcraft +52, Stealth +42, Survival +53, Swim +62, Use Magic Device +50 Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Avolakia, Draconic, Infernal, telepathy 300 ft. SQ compression, otherworldly insight Ecology Environment any land or underground Organization unique Treasure double standard (Mace of Kyuss [+3 unholy vorpal executioner’s mace], other treasure) Special Abilities Channel Negative Energy (Su) Kyuss can channel negative energy as per a 20th level cleric. Create Spawn (Su) Any creature reduced to 0 Int by Kyuss rises as a scion of Kyuss under Kyuss’ control immediately. Devastation Beam (Su) As a standard action, Kyuss can fire destructive energy in a 600 foot line. All creatures and objects in the line take 17d12 points of damage that ignore all hardness, damage reduction or energy resistance (Reflex DC 42 half). A creature reduced to 0 hit points by this blast is destroyed utterly and can only be returned to life with a miracle, true resurrection or wish spell. The save DC is Charisma based. Engulf (Ex) If Kyuss grapples a foe, as a swift action, it can cause a swarm of worms to squirm over the grappled creature. These worms deal 5d6+24 points of damage and 3d6 points of Intelligence drain and the creature is nauseated for 1 round. A successful DC 44 Fortitude save negates the nausea and halves the Intelligence drain. Kyuss can only have one embraced target at a time, but it does not have to continue grappling in order to maintain the embrace. If Kyuss moves more than 5 feet from the swarm or dismisses the swarm (a free action), the swarm dies. Any area attack that damages the swarm or any severe or stronger wind effect that affects the swarm's target kills it. Immortality (Ex) If Kyuss is slain, he explodes in a fountain of worms—all creatures within 30 feet take damage as if exposed to his engulf ability (Fort DC 44 halves). Any scions of Kyuss created by this effect are free willed. Kyuss then reforms on another planet or plane over the course of 1000 years, trapped in a monolith of black stone until the time is right to reemerge. Spells Kyuss casts spells as a 20th level cleric. He does not gain access to domain spells or domain abilities. Spell Stowaway (Su) Whenever a creature within 60 feet of Kyuss uses time stop, he can act normally within the duration of the time stop, as if he had cast it himself. As neither he nor the caster are frozen in time with respect to each other, each can target and affect the other with attacks, spells, or other effects they create, though they cannot affect other creatures within the duration of the time stop. This ability functions even if Kyuss is flat-footed or unaware of his opponent. Thanatoic Nightmares (Su) Kyuss can use his nightmare spell-like ability on any creature that has ever taken ability damage or drain from an undead creature, or been infected with a disease by an undead. In addition to the effects of the nightmare, the target must succeed a DC 42 Will save or become infected with the seed of undeath. It takes a -4 penalty to all saves against necromancy spells, negative energy effects or the special attacks of the undead. If slain by an undead creature with the create spawn ability, it rises as a scion of Kyuss instead. This effect is permanent unless removed by remove curse or a similar effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Unspeakable Presence (Su) Failing a DC 42 Will save against Kyuss’ unspeakable presence causes the victim to be overwhelmed by a sense of doom—it takes a -4 penalty to all attack rolls, saving throws, skill and ability checks and weapon damage rolls while it remains in the area. Zone of Desecration (Su) Kyuss emits a 120 foot aura that duplicates the effects of a desecrate spell. He counts as a shrine to an evil religion for the purposes of the spell.
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blancheludis · 6 years ago
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A/N: @stony-week, day 3, prompt: “any excuse to get me to hold you”
Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Tags: 2012 Avengers, Established Relationship, Bar Fight, Fluff, Humour, Team as Family
Summary: Someone insults Captain America in a bar, and Tony is not going to let that stand. He has not won many bar fights in his life, but these days he has the Avengers back him up. A night out is only fun when some blood is spilled, right? (If asked, Steve would have disagreed. Instead, they actually threw the first punch.) 
---
The man in the bar probably does not mean anything by it. Steve has a lot of experience with people saying bad things about him, and not just from the time before he got the serum. It is fine. Captain America is a symbol, an icon, and people like to forget that there is a real man inside the costume. Real men make mistakes. If their heroes are not infallible, that is just a reminder that no one is.
Also, the man is drunk. Alcohol is supposed to bring out the truth, but it also suppresses any ability to rationalize one’s thoughts. It makes the lines between reality and what one wishes reality was blur.
So, Steve would have ignored the drunk guy at the bar who is running his mouth on Captain America loud enough to be audible from their booth even without his enhanced hearing. He is not generous enough to say that it does not hurt, but it is nothing he would need to interrupt their nice evening over.
Tony, sadly, does not show the same restraint. He seems to have a radar for people saying bad things about them. If it is just against himself, he shrugs it off, but they have all learned by now that Tony is protective of those he calls his own. Somehow, the Avengers, Steve in particular, made it into that small group.
“What’s that guy saying?” Tony asks, craning his neck to find the source of the slander. He looks upset, ready to do something stupid. Then again, that is one of their specialities.
Steve puts his hand over Tony’s to hold him back. He is not surprised when that gets him a smile but does not dissuade Tony from his self-chosen mission.
“Tony –” Steve tries to prevent any unrest, but Clint cuts him off.
“I think he’s insulting our very fine leader.” Clint’s tone holds something known very well to all of them. He is eager for some excitement, his voice and eyes almost glowing with it.
Tony scrunches his face into a grimace. “That’s not – right.”
“It’s nothing,” Steve tries to mitigate. If Clint and Tony both set their eyes on a target, it usually ends in tears and a blood-chillingly high number of dollars in property damage. “He’s just drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“He’s not even slurring his words,” Bruce chimes up, looking slightly guilty when Steve glares at him. Clint and Tony do not need any more encouragement, especially not from the probably most level-headed person in the group. Steve realizes the irony of him saying that about the Hulk.
Just as Steve is going to try to distract his teammates, the guy at the bar says, “What’s so special about him anyway. Bloody lab experiment playing Frisbee.”
It could be comical, the way Tony’s entire being tenses with sudden indignation, especially considering that he had said something very similar to Steve once. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. He just really does not like other people using his insults. More so when he has long since apologized for having been wrong.
“All right,” Tony says as he gets to his feet, face clouded with determination. “Hold my beer.”
Steve frowns, looking at the colourful drink Tony has been sipping. “You’re not drinking beer.” That is an important point to make, or so he feels, but Tony waves him off with a dismissive gesture.
“Semantics. Here,” he shoves his glass into Steve’s hand, sloshing him with cool liquid, “hold my completely non-alcoholic beverage.”
If Tony were drunk, at least, he would have a viable excuse for seeking a fight with some poor sod in a bar. The fact that he is sober makes it just worse. Although Steve cannot help but feel a little flattered that Tony would jump to his defence like that. That moment of irresponsible pondering of his boyfriend’s qualities costs him the chance to hold Tony back.
“He’s drunk on adrenaline and righteousness,” Clint says wisely, staring after Tony with open amusement, “that’s even worse.”
With the easy grace of someone who used to navigate bars all the time, Tony makes his way through the room, easily dodging other patrons, eyes set firmly on his goal. He moves with the purpose of someone knowing a fight is inevitable, hands curled slightly at his sides, every step eager.
“Things are about to get interesting,” Clint exclaims with an unholy amount of glee. “I need to see that.”
There is a reason the Avengers, as a whole, seldom go out together. In smaller groups or pairs, yes, but all of them exposed to small places and alcohol seldom ends well. Too much temper has to be contained.
Steve closes his eyes in anticipation of another night ending in chaos and split knuckles. By the time he has taken a deep breath, his whole team bar Bruce is on its way through the room.
“You should perhaps go after them,” Bruce advises calmly, eyeing the situation at the bar critically. He does not look upset or even particularly bothered. This is just another shade of normal for them.
“Come with me,” Steve says, despite knowing the futility of it. “They’re listening to you.”
Bruce smiles softly. “I don’t think a bar fight is the right place for me. I’ll wait back here.” Something wicked in his tone, he adds, “And don’t worry, I’ve got a first-aid kit with me.”
With a curse, Steve hurries after his friends, wondering how this has become his life. Then again, it always has been. Before the serum, it was just usually him jumping at every opportunity to fight, Bucky right by his side. It might be hypocritical of him to blame others for doing the same, just because they are somewhat respectable people now.
From close up, the scene at the bar does not look any better. In fact, the drunk guy is a lot bigger than anticipated. Alcohol, a bad temper, and enough muscle mass to do damage even when hitting blindly is never a good combination. Especially considering how small Tony looks in comparison. Small but ready for anything this guy is going to throw at him.
“Hey, asshole,” Tony calls, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Wanna repeat that to my face?”
Heads turn towards them, waiting for something to happen. When the man looks at Tony, small eyes full of the pointless anger of the drunk, Steve wants to step forward and shield Tony, tuck him into his arms to keep him safe.
“Is there something wrong with your ears as well as your brain?” Tony taunts. His daring is enough to stop Steve in his tracks, ruining his chance of stopping this before the situation escalates.
The man is visibly confused that his drunken ramblings have been interrupted, but he recognizes Tony’s words easily as a provocation. He gets to his feet with slow, swaying movements, building himself up like a mountain in front of the bar. He appears bigger because Steve is worried about Tony’s wellbeing, but even so, he is a massive man.
“Captain America,” the man says with deliberate slowness, tasting the words like good scotch, “is a cunt.”
Someone laughs – it might have been Clint, judging on the crazed delight in the sound – but Steve has no time to wonder about it. In a blur of motion, Tony steps forward, sidesteps the man’s readily raised fist and lands a hit of his own, squarely in the man’s face. At the same time, he uses a trick Natasha taught him, entangling his feet with that of his opponent so all it needs is a small push to bring the man down.
He crashes to the floor with a loud thump, blinking in confusion at his sudden change of position. Tony stands over him, his expression one of remorseless righteousness.
“I think I didn’t hear you correctly,” Tony says, another provocation right there in his voice. “What did you say?”
Quickly, Steve steps forward to pull Tony back. He manages at least a few feet before Tony shrugs him off.
“Let me deal with this,” Tony hisses and turns back, not waiting for an answer.
Unhappily, Steve thinks there would be nothing to deal with if they had just ignored the mindless comments. That man is just one of thousands who must be saying the very same things at this very moment. Being a hero means being held to different standards than other people. Doing his best is not enough anymore. But that is all right. He will still continue doing so.
In front of them, the man gets up from the ground and wipes the blood from his nose. From the bar, four more guys come towards them. Of course, the drunk guy has to have friends. Steve is not exactly worried that any of them packs more of a punch than the first one, but with five of them, there is no way the other Avengers are going to stay out of this.
“All right,” Steve tries anyway, “this is enough.” He is used to making his voice carry over a battlefield, but he might as well have not bothered because no one pays him the slightest bit of attention. “I get that tempers are high, but that’s nothing a nice new round of beer can’t cure, yes?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Natasha blink at him with pity plain visible on her face. That is how he knows his attempt at calming them all down has backfired before the drunk guys have even turned towards him.
“Look who it is,” their original opponent says, voice scathing. “Captain Spangled Pants himself. It’s nice of you to come by because we have something to tell you.”
Regarding their physique, Steve is a much better match for him than Tony, but Tony has never liked being pushed out of the limelight. “Oh no, you don’t,” he says, moving slightly in front of Steve as if he needs to protect him. “You were talking to me, remember? And I don’t think I’ve made my point yet.”
The man looks Tony up and down with the kind of dismissive leer that has an instinctive growl rising in Steve’s throat. No one looks at Tony like that and gets away with it.
“You think your money helps you hit less like a girl?” the man asks, clearly failing to see that it is not Tony’s money that makes him dangerous. A lot of people make that mistake.
“Says the guy who’s already bleeding.”
Tony grins the same, utterly delighted way he does right before a battle when the suit closes in around him. Steve almost expects Iron Man to materialize in front of them. Instead, Tony remains as he is, in his three-piece suit entirely made of cloth. No hidden lasers or rockets. Just him.
“Tony, stop,” Steve orders, reaching out to hold Tony back. “There’s five of them and we don’t need to ruin the evening.”
Shrugging, Tony looks as if this is exactly how he pictured the evening going. “They ruined the evening. And there’s five of us too.” He looks around and finds Bruce waving at them cheerfully from their table. “Well, six, because Tasha hits like three people put in one.”
“What about me?” Clint pouts, coming up on Tony’s other side. All of them are completely ignoring the danger building up in front of them.
“Well,” Tony drawls with a smirk, “your gymnastics will at least make us look good.”
“Are you done?” the drunk man asks, the kind of confused malice glinting in his eye that shows he is not sure what exactly is going on but he is trying to punch it better anyway.
“Yes,” Steve says firmly, “we’re done here. I hope you’ll have a nice –”
“Good,” the man says, and grins to show off his bloodstained teeth.
Everything dissolves into chaos then. The fight should have been over in seconds. The Avengers against some drunk idiots in a bar. What Steve has almost forgotten about these things is the thrill of it, the excitement of a fight that is not about life or death.
Steve sees Natasha pull her first punch and Clint making a complicated looking dance of flailing limbs around his opponent. They are not aiming to end this quickly. They are enjoying themselves.
Just when Steve decides that they are in for a hell of a lecture when they are all back at the tower and sober again, he almost gets hit in the face for all his trouble to stay back and appear non-threatening. Only his ingrained reflexes save him. The rest, as they say, is history.
Distantly, Steve realizes a crowd has gathered around them, cheering on either them or the drunk defenders of the public opinion. It does not matter. Laughter fills the air, accentuated by the groaning of men and the sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh. It feels like they are fighting against more men than the original five now.
Steve lets his fists fly, half his mind busy with holding back his strength. That means he earns himself some punches, but it is not as if he is not used to bruises. The fight drags on. He sees Natasha grinning and Clint adding insults to each of his movements. He sees Tony dancing, moving with the grace of someone who was formally educated in the martial arts but has not been made to use them with deadly intent. The sight, Steve has to admit grudgingly, is very hot.
Then, though, he sees blood on Tony’s shirt, dripping down from a cut above his eye. That is enough to return Steve to his senses.
“Avengers,” he calls, realizing too late that announcing their identities might not be the smart move. Then again, this fight started purely because of who they are, and if there are still people in the crowd who do not know – well, news travels fast.
“Already, Cap?” Clint asks, obviously pouting as he sidesteps a punch to the stomach. In a blur of motion, he throws the attacker to the floor for his trouble, hard enough to knock him out.
“Yes,” Steve replies, not bothering to waste breath on explanations. If they started this fight to defend the honour of their leader, they might as well have the courtesy of following said leader’s orders. “This ends now.”
The fight is over within mere moments then, which has Steve mentally adding at least half an hour to his lecture about proper behaviour. Natasha takes down the two men advancing on her without even blinking. Not a single hair is out of place as she sidles up to him, expression bored again, now that the excitement is over.
The crowd around them disperses with some disappointment that their evening entertainment got cut short. At least no one is calling for their blood. Steve counts that as a win.
To the surprise of absolutely no one, it is Tony who does not fall in line. He is kneeling over the man who has started this all, twisting his arm up his back and hissing something in his ear.
“Tony.” Steve scowls as he hurries over. “Let go. The fight’s over.”
“It’s not,” Tony argues hotly, glancing up at Steve for only a short moment before fixing his attention back on the struggling man beneath him. “This asshole here hasn’t apologized yet.”
“Tony.” Steve aimed to sound sterner, but he cannot help the amusement rising up in his stomach. He distinctly remembers the conversation they had when they first started dating and Tony warned him not to get upset every time someone insulted Tony. He said something along the lines of it not being worth it to waste energy on idiots. Steve is sure now is not the time to remind Tony of just that.
In response, Tony applies just a bit more pressure on the guy’s arm, who simply groans in pain.
“Listen here,” he says slowly, “you better not badmouth my boyfriend ever again, because he’s a better person than you could ever be. He’s good, you hear me, and that did not come out of a bottle.”
Steve has to admit, warmth blossoms in his chest at the vehemence with which Tony talks about him. They are still making even more of a spectacle of themselves than they ever should, though. Fury will be, well, furious. More so than usual.
“Tony,” Steve tries again, voice firm, “let’s go.”
Stubbornly, Tony shakes his head. “He hasn’t –”
“I know,” Steve interrupts him gently, “he hasn’t apologized, but you’ve sufficiently defended my honour. Let Bruce have a look at that cut now.”
While it is still bleeding sluggishly, it is nothing to worry about. They deal with real injuries on a daily basis. Steve does not like to see Tony bleed, though, and it is as good as a distraction as anything.
“I don’t –”
Tired of arguing, Steve reaches out to loosen Tony’s grip on the downed man’s arm. Without further ado, he picks Tony up and carries him back to their table.
If he thought that being carried away like an errant child would put a damper on Tony’s petulance, Steve was very wrong. Instead of keeping his head down, Tony sticks out his tongue at the remaining people watching them, before he shifts his position to snuggle closer into Steve’s arms. Steve tightens his embrace instinctively.
“You’re really using any excuse to get me to hold you,” Tony mutters against Steve’s chest, sounding smug but still somewhat disbelieving. Steve cannot blame him. Waking up every morning next to Tony still seems like a dream to him too.
“You see right through me,” Steve answers as lightly as he can, even while his heart becomes even heavier with his growing love for Tony.
“Oi, lovebirds,” Clint calls, appearing right next to them, “we’re taking the party elsewhere.”
Before the mob decides that their heroes beating up some sad drunks in the middle of downtown New York is not something they can let stand so easily. Steve agrees completely. Still, he cranes his neck to look for Bruce.
“Tony’s bleeding.” The worry in his tone elicits smiles on each of his friends’ faces. It does not even matter that they are somewhat tinged with mocking.
“I’ll live,” Tony says dismissively, the way he always is when it comes to his own wounds. “Let’s just get out of here.”
The cool night air is refreshing but makes their blossoming bruises sting. Instead of shame, though, it puts a new, exhilarating spin on their evening. Steve is not irresponsible enough to admit that he might have had some fun, but the lightness of his step is telling in itself.
They have made it two blocks when Clint turns towards Steve and Tony with an incredulous expression.
“Are you really going to make Steve carry you all the way, Stark?” he asks, then pulls his lips into a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d be a sissy because of a little blood.”
Steve half expects Tony to tense in his arms. While he is not exactly shy with publicly showing affection, he does not like to be called out on it, almost like it is something shameful.
Instead, Tony makes a show of getting more comfortable in Steve’s arms. “The cut has nothing to do with it, thank you very much,” he says, full of smugness. ”You’re just jealous no one’s carrying you.”
Clint’s face sours, but when he glances at Natasha in an obvious attempt to persuade her to give it a go, she glares at him so frightfully that he instinctively steps closer to Bruce.
“Not in this form,” Bruce declines immediately, then adds hastily, “Not happening,” anticipating that Clint is going to propose bringing out the Hulk just to one-up Steve and Tony. As if anyone could.
“Aw, does no one want to take the little birdie flying?” Tony mocks, feeling safe enough in Steve’s arms to tease someone who could impale him with a random stick found on the street from a whole block away.
“Next time,” Clint announces in a put-out tone, “I’m not going to save your ass when you anger a whole pub full of Cap antis.”
“As if you would sit out a fight,” Tony replies immediately. True enough, no one who saw him in that bar would believe that even for a second.
The adrenaline of the fight making him reckless, Steve adds, “I’m disappointed to hear that you wouldn’t defend my honour.” He does not want to encourage a repeat of this behaviour, but the looks on his friends’ faces are worth it.
Then, quickly, Clint’s expression sobers. “You sound pissed,” he says, sounding wary. “Let me guess, you already have a lecture prepared for us when we get home?”
Steve nods cheerfully, not bothering to hide his grin at his team’s groans. They really should know better.
“You’re not going to lecture me, are you?” Tony asks quietly, his breath hot on Steve’s ear.
Steve knows exactly what Tony is trying to do. It is working, of course, but Steve has a long memory.
“Especially you,” he responds, voice dipping low. “All night long.” He captures Tony’s lips in a kiss, tasting of copper and home. The combination is making him heady.
Eyes slightly glassy, Tony looks up at him. Steve can feel his heartbeat picking up.
“Let’s get home, losers,” Tony calls, never looking away from Steve. “I’m very much looking forward to the after-lecture program.”
Clint groans while Bruce chuckles to himself. Natasha just looks at them approvingly. Despite the completely unnecessary escalation of their night out, Steve is happy with where he is. Among family. Loved.
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nekolatte · 6 years ago
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Chapter 5: Closer
Preview: He wasn't one for mythicism or fate; life was a chaotic mess that everyone just had to struggle to make sense of. And in his chaotic mess of a life, he so happened to run into a stubborn mage and a pompous vampire that softened the ache of a family he will never be able to see again.
Trevor cared, and it terrified him more than the feral beasts or the prospect of his own mortality.
All around Trevor was chaosー snapping teeth and chilling cries, monsters on the hunt for blood and not sated with the meager scraps they had found at the end of a very short battle. They tore into each other like starved, savage beasts with killing the only thing on their minds. No alliances amongst themー no sign of camaraderie, and it was the most terrifying thing Trevor had to bear witness to.
The town never stood a chance, marked for death well before they arrived, and Trevor felt responsible for not being able to do more. He had set them up to failー he gave Alucard too much ground to cover and Sypha stood alone with no reinforcements. The mistakes and what he could have done to prevent them cluttered his mind and wouldn't quiet. But he didn't have the luxury to hide and wallow in misery, waiting to be found by one of Dracula's monsters. There were still two people that needed him, and he wasn't going to lose them to a mob of heartless beasts like before.
Sypha was easiest to find, having been stationed closerー her small frame contorted to fit between the rubble that had fallen around her. With care, he pulled her out and checked her over quickly, noting the steady stream of blood leaking from her temple, her hair matted on one side. It was concerning, but for now she was whole and conscious and, more importantly, able to walk.
Cupping her face in both palms, he forced her wild, frightened gaze to lock on his, the sharp jerk enough to bring some of her back into her head. The regret immediate on her face, guilt close behind, but Trevor didn't have time to talk her down from any hysteria. He just jerked her again to make her focus.
“Go back to the horses. Do you remember the way?” A nod; Trevor sighed in relief. “Take as many people as you can with you; only the ones you find on the way. Only the ones that can walk. Do you understand?”
“Butー”
“Do you understand, Sypha?” He hated being harsh, especially when she flinched at his tone, but now was not the time for her righteous selflessness and he needed her to come to terms with it. “You can't save everyone. As much as you want to, as much as it pains you to see the suffering and walk away, you cannot save everyone.”
“Iー I can'tー” Her voice broke, and Trevor's heart nearly followed. Tears collected in her large, diamond eyes, tipping over and spilling downー leaving streaks on dirtied skin. “I can't save everyone.”
“Go back to the horses. I'll meet you there.” His thumb swept over a trailー the act instinctualー and he moved to leave, back into the fray to find Alucard, who was lost in the commotion after their first line of defense fell. But small hands grabbed his sleeves, weak in strength but with enough force to make Trevor pause. He turned and looked back at Sypha, saw the fear, and grabbed her arms in a grip he hoped conveyed reassurance. “I promise to meet you there.”
A nod was all Sypha could muster, and Trevor was glad she hadn't decided to speak. He would've been too tempted to go with herー to see her to safety. But he couldn't be in two places at once and needed to rearrange his priorities.
Cupping the back of her neck in a fierce, protective hold, Trevor tapped their foreheads together in a quick exchange of affection before turning and rushing back into the chaos.
The air was choked with heat and pungent smells, making it difficult for his lungs to properly fill, but still he pressed forward. He skirted around the monsters that he could, was forced to fight the one's he couldn't out-maneuverー and it was taking too long to search the ruined town when his every turn was blocked by raging fires, debris, demons or some unholy combination of all.
Adrenaline was starting to wane, exhaustion creeping into limbs and making them lock. Trevor was starting to trembleー which was never a good signー and for one, startling moment he dreaded the thought of having to leave Alucard behind. He didn't care for the vampire, still flinching around his otherness, but Trevor couldn't lie and say he was putting this much effort into keeping a prophecy alive. He wasn't one for mythicism or fate; life was a chaotic mess that everyone just had to struggle to make sense of. And in his chaotic mess of a life, he so happened to run into a stubborn mage and a pompous vampire that softened the ache of a family he will never be able to see again.
Trevor cared, and it terrified him more than the feral beasts or the prospect of his own mortality.
It's what continued to drive him forward despite his exhaustion, and what gave him a surge of strength at the clang of metal somewhere on the other side of the street he was on. Beasts had no use for metal, and it was easy to surmise that it had to be Alucardー which meant he was still alive and fighting.
Though rounding the corner did not fill him with the hope he wished, instead finding Alucard surrounded on all sides and a splash of red dyeing the ground at his feet. Trevor didn't thinkー he assessed the situation too quickly. Had he had the forethought to notice the vampire's slouch, the defensive curl of his body, Trevor might have stopped himself from shouting to Alucard to “loosen up”. He might have stopped himself from flinging his whip, the crack of leather splitting the shrieks and forms of beasts, and catching it around the vampire's leg.
Trevor threw his weight into the tug, surprise a major factor in being able to sweep the vampire right off his feetー literally. Alucard scraped right under slashing claws and gnashing fangs and out of immediate danger, which he couldn't be bothered to be thankful for if the immediate glare he threw Trevor was any indication. But at least he was able to give it, and that was all that mattered to Trevor at the current moment as he tried to haul the vampire up to his feet. There was obvious reluctance on Alucard’s part to put weight on one side, and he hobbled next to Trevor because of it once they began running.
Everytime he chanced a glance over to make sure he was being followed by the correct monster, Alucard had his sweating face pinched in pain and was lagging further behind, lacking his usual grace and stumbling over bits of debris he could normally vault with ease.
Unable to stand watching the pathetic display, and tired of having to rush back and save Alucard from a demon intercepting them, Trevor pulled the vampire into an alcove away from the main street. Made out of two buildings falling into each other, it wasn't the safest place to rest for very long, but Alucard let out a noise that was so much like unadulterated relief it was close to a sob, and Trevor felt a twinge of guilt at having made him run for so long.
In this frayed moment of peace, Trevor looked him over more properly and noticed the sluggish bleed of the leg he was favoring before. Trevor hesitated, realized how stupid it was to, and grabbed the leg in question to give it a tight squeeze. Alucard's reaction was immediate, teeth bared and tears stinging his eyes, choking on a cry he couldn't voice in fear of being heard. Trevor immediately let go, his hand coming away tacky with blood.
“You're injured.” The deadly look Alucard gave him spoke volumes of what he thought of such an obvious observation. Trevor tried to look apologetic and made his intentions clear that he wanted to get a better look at the injury. When Alucard made no move to pull away or attack, Trevor began undoing the mile of laces on the vampire's boot to slip it off.
There were clear puncture marks on the leather, and they followed straight through to the pant leg and into flesh. Trevor tried to be as delicate as he could in lifting the stuck-on garment, but Alucard still twisted in pain and bit down on his lip to keep from making a loud noise. Trevor grimaced, considered his options, and decided he really needed to see the extent of the injuries, enough to use his knife to cut the pant leg open.
“This would be so much easier if you didn't wear such tight pants.” That won Trevor a sardonic laughー too loud after their hushed conversation, but better than the pained whimpering of before.
The wounds were deep but cleanー a single, straight bite from the looks of it. Nothing seemed or felt broken; the worst of it seemed to come from Trevor aggravating the injury and the running.
Cursing under his breath, and nearly biting off a bit of tongue when a roar overheard made him shut up quickly, Trevor began tearing the ruined scraps of fabric into strips.
“We're going to make a run for the treelineー do you need blood?”
Alucard went so deadly still that Trevor's heart leapt to his throat before realizing the vampire was still very much alive. He was staring at Trevor as if he suddenly sprouted fangs, and Trevor could only return the wide-eyed gaze with a frown. “What?”
“I never thoughtー” Alucard's deep breath sounded almost wet and Trevor's concern raised. “I did not earnー”
“Are you serious ?” Trevor hissed despite wanting to shout, anger boiling from somewhere he didn't know, but easier to hold onto than his previous fear. He tore at the fabric more violently than needed, and focused on wrapping the makeshift bandages tight around the open wounds. “This isn't a game, vampire. There's nothing to win here but getting out of this alive. So do you needー”
“No.” Tone as sharp as the glare given, Trevor let out a hard breath through his nose like an agitated bull.
“You can heal this, then? Preferably soon, because I can't keep rescuing you while trying to stay upright myself.”
“I will manage.”
Trevor didn't believe that one bit, and because he preferred to be agitated with Alucard than worried, he pressed his thumb against the edge of the wound. Alucard started violently, and threw himself back, banging his head on the wall he was leaning back on. The whole structure shook, showering them in dust, but thankfully nothing more solid dislodged. “Try that again, vampire.”
“I do not need nor want your blood, Belmont.” Deep lines marred Alucard’s usually marble-smooth features, concentrated between eyes that were beginning to rim redー honey irises turning a darker shade of amber. It was the first time Alucard looked more beast than beauty, and quickly reminded Trevor just what he was provoking in such a small, cramped space. “If I wanted I would have taken from you long ago and you would have been helpless to stop me.”
And just like that, the bit of trickling fear evaporated and Trevor pressed at the wound again. Alucard started much more violently than before, biting out a curse in a language Trevor didn't know, and banged his head again. It was enough to dislodge an entire stone this time, making the whole structure slide down an inch. Alucard sank down to avoid another injury and consequently ended up pressing closer to Trevor.
Injured leg folded and pressed firmly into Trevor’s lap, the other tucked in against his hip, Alucard was practically straddling one of Trevor's thighs with long, lithe legs open and on display. Trevor had an explicit view of every dip and curveー aforementioned tight pants leaving very little to Trevor’s wild and creative imagination. Eyes instinctively drawn to the bare stripe of skin below his hiked shirt and above his low-hanging pants, pale and smooth and begging for fingers to run acrossー for a curious swipe of tongue. And with the vampire's foot way too close to his groin for his liking, Trevor grabbed his boot and shoved it back on, making sure to do the laces up tight as a makeshift tourniquet. He desperately willed the flush on his cheeks away as he tried to think of anything but the vampire or where the urge had come from in the first place.
“Did you think I would forget the stupid game was your idea? If you're so intent on keeping your fucking pride, fine by me. Get ready to run.”
Gritting through his teeth, Alucard hissed out a strangled “Syphaー” and Trevor was quick to explain the situation there. Alucard nodded though didn't look pleased with the answer, and finally pulled himself into a crouch, both ready to make a line for the woodland just beyond the town boundary.
Trevor waited, tense and exhausted, but knowing what needed to be done. The night was still fairly young, but the dense forest might offer better protection than what could be found in the ruined village. They just needed to survive until morning; simple enough in theory. He spared a thought towards Sypha, hoped she managed to get away from the town at least, before he reached back to grab Alucard by the wrist and lead him away.
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sweettoothshipperrotg · 6 years ago
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Frostednature- Secretly dating AU? <3
Here it is, my darling!
Enjoy! :D
*****
As unusual as it may sound, beings of cognitive nature have the particular ability to sympathize with one another. Our empathy is the one that connects us, even to the ones we think are too different from us.So imagine Bunnymund and Toothiana’s surprise when they find a very unlikely pair in the midst of a heated up make out session in their favorite cleaning supply closet.
Bunnymund’s eyes looked about to bulge out of his skull, mouth falling open at the scene. “What the f-”
“front teeth?!”, the fairy finished equally as shocked.
The two lovebirds spun around so fast any normal human would be in danger of getting whiplash. They split quickly, as if their contact had scalded them, both sporting deer-in-the-headlights expressions on their faces.
The guardians of memories and hope respectively took another moment to stare at the stunned nature sprites (whose look of abject terror were been overthrow by an intense tinge of red spreading through their faces.)
“Uhhh, guys this is not what you think” Jack spluttered.
“The hell it ain’t Frost!”, exclaimed the pooka. “You’re shacking Mother freaking Nature!”
“Bunny!”, Toothiana admonished.
She looked at her friend and at Mother Nature. She certainly had not expected the carefree Jack being so interested in the rather reserved and poised young woman. “Since when has this been a thing?”
“About 8 months.” Jack answered while combing through his hair with his hand.“I don’t get it, though. Why keep it a secret?”
Emily eyes were fixed to the floor, not wanting to feel the look she was receiving from her newly-minted boyfriend.
“That one’s on me.” She recognized. “I hardly think that your dear Man in the Moon would be thrilled about his favorite guardian dating the daughter of the man who killed his parents. Keeping with that line of thought, I don’t think my dad would be happy about it either. And…”
She usually wasn’t one to open up around people, but what else did she have to lose since they had been found out?
“Publicly being with me is dangerous, not only as the Nightmare King’s daughter, but as Mother Nature itself.” The young woman explained. “There are a lot of people who could use him against me and I don’t want anything to happen to Jack.”
There were also aspects she didn’t feel like sharing, however.
She was not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. Emily’s mind ran further and deeper than most. To her every action or sentence had a purpose, a reason and a meaning behind them.
She had had to traverse through a lot of tricky scenarios were the wrong move could get her into deep trouble.
It had been overwhelming to find such a carefree honesty from someone who wanted nothing but her company and her person.
To be honest, it made her nervous that her temper and her very own mind would make her do or say something wrong and push him away.
Even more, there were a lot of people who were not happy with the daughter of the man who had brought the Golden Age to an end in such a position of power.
She couldn’t give two figs about what they thought about her, but Jack…
His opinion of her mattered now, although the notion made her feel rather vulnerable.
What if those against her whispered just the correct words to drive him away? She wouldn’t be able to handle his resentment without suffering tremendous amounts of heartache.
He had agreed to keep their relationship a secret and he had been nothing but kind and understanding.
But as sweet as it was that he was determined to protect their secret, Jack did lament that Emily wasn’t willing to make their relationship public.
Emily sighed. Maybe if she wasn’t so much of a coward, they wouldn’t have to trade stolen kissed and hushed sweet words in closets.
Which actually got her wondering…
“Wait” Emily’s brow arched while wagging her finger between Toothiana and Bunny. “What are you two doing here?”
Now the pair’s expressions resembled Jack and Emily’s a few moments ago.“Umm…we…we were just”
A smirk bloomed on Mother Nature’s face, glad that the focus was no longer on her. “Me thinks we were not the only ones that went out for a midnight rendezvous.”
It took the guardian of fun a couple of seconds for his brain to catch up.
“Oh my god.” Jack choked out, looking like he had been struck with a horrible realization…which he had. “You two frick fracked the whole night in the room next to mine during last year’s Christmas get together!”
Then he turned an accusing finger towards Bunny. “You said you were practicing Jiu Jitsu moves!”
“I mean considering what went down that night, he wasn’t lying.” Toothiana mused, tapping a finger against her chin.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
‘Considering the unholy sight we just saw, the feeling is mutual, Pitchiner’. Bunny weighted the pros and cons of sharing that thought but decided against it.
“Since when have you two even been a thing?” Jack asked. “And why are you hiding it?”
“Almost two years in February, although I’m pretty sure that Sandy knows and is covering for us. North has a ridiculous no romance in the workplace policy.” Tooth rolled her eyes and shrugged. “He’s just still salty about him and his wife divorcing.”
“NORTH IS MARRIED?”
“Was, actually”, interjected Bunnymund. “That’s a story for another time, show pony.”
Silence settled in the room, progressively getting more awkward.
“Sooo…what do we do about this?”, ventured Toothiana.
“I say we act as nothing happened. You didn’t see us making out, and we didn’t see you holding hands off towards some hanky-panky on ye old cleaning supplies cabinet.”
“Couldn’t agree more, Frost”, acquiesced the pooka.
“Now, off you pop. Find your own make out closet.” Jack shooed the couple away, but then decided to add a bit more. “And, guys?”
The Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy turned around with a questioning look on their faces.
“The next time you decide on fucking when there’s people on the next room, I’m snitching.”
And with that, he closed the door on their faces.
“Well, this has been quite the eventful night.” Emily sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I really thought we were caught”
“If the guardians knew about us then we wouldn’t have to worry about being discovered.”
“I know you don’t like to hide, Jack. And I’m not doing this to spite you”, she said while looking into his lovely blue eyes. “I’m just not ready yet.”
He sighed and placed a light kiss on her forehead. He knew that this whole relationship was something new and that Emily was not one to just rush into things. It had been an aspect of her he had fallen for, after all.
And he was aware that them being a couple would surely turn heads their way. That cracked him up.
“What’s got you laughing at a time like this?”
“Did you see the look on Bunny’s face?” Jack shook his head, guffawing all the while.
Emily pressed her face into his shoulder, unable to hold back her laughter.
She might still be rather reticent to let everyone know how much in love she was with this amazing man, but she knew that with Jack by her side, eventually, she would be able to take on whatever the world would send their way.
In fact, the idea was becoming more appealing by the minute.
Maybe Jack wouldn’t have to wait that long, after all.
*****There it is, hope you liked it. I remembered you mentioning that you also wanted sweettooth secret dating. So I decided to combine them.
Excuse the cursing but remember that all movies are allowed at least one F-bomb. Same rule applies here.Don’t hesitate to send more requests! :)
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areniaagn · 7 years ago
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Areniaagn’s Combat Style Part 2
“It is not death that you should fear. It is what comes after.”
-Areniaagn, Master Necromancer.
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Aren is an extremely proficient necromancer. His grasp on death is almost without equal. The living tremble before him, and the very essence of life shrivels and withers at his presence. He is the end...
...when he’s not trying to pass off as ‘just a normal Unholy death knight’.
His aura, in the vast majority of situations, is bound up to appear ‘smaller’, in a quantity much less threatening than how it actually is. Plants still die when he touches them, but it is not overwhelming.
When it is fully unleashed, however, living tissue—both flesh and plant life—begin rotting away. The living near him would experience paranoia, and terror so great that it could normally only be brought about by looking at their own grave. The very ground he treads becomes defiled, profane in nature. However, due to the extreme nature of his aura, he very rarely unleashes it fully.
Most of the time, when facing an opponent of his size or smaller, he attempts to immediately end them by getting them into a grapple. From there, he drains away both their soul and their life essence, empowering him. When facing an incredibly tough foe that his hammer alone cannot bring down, often reverts to a more ‘hands off’ tactic. He summons waves of undead minions from the Shadowlands, sending them forth to wear down his opponent while he hurls curses and death coils from afar.
His necromantic prowess, however, comes most often into play outside of a fight. Resurrecting the fallen dead as more fodder is a common, almost expected occurrence. His magic is strongest, though, when combined with his skills as a craftsman. Masterwork saronite, enchanted, and bent to his will is a basis of many of his greater projects.
Aren has also unlocked many secrets of the Shadowlands, drawing power from the deep well of death to empower himself or his minions. Other times, he phases in and out of reality, using the mirror realm of death to get closer to his target, or maneuver around the battlefield.
Pros/Cons
Pros:
+Excellent at transmutation. Reality is often bent to his will.
+Excellent at enchantment. Imbuing magic into items to make them more powerful, or planting a curse in a living target to debilitate lets him have variety.
+Very powerful necromancy makes fighting most living opponents a cinch.
Cons:
-Relatively weak evocation. Aren can smash very well with his magic-imbued hammer, but he lacks powerful spells that mages often have.
-Weaker against the undead. Necromantic energy heals the undead, not harm. This robs him of quite a few of his already limited evocation spell list, and his aura only empowers the undead.
-Reliant on undead minions. If his opponent is excellent at culling undead hordes, he might run out of minions before they’re sufficiently softened up.
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poeticsandaliens · 7 years ago
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Lou: Are you more masculine or feminine? and Claude Becker: What do you look like?
Lou - 
As far as what I put out, I tend to put out a strange combination of very masculine and very feminine, as far as style goes.
I’m a wilderness hermit and in the middle of nowhere you’re not really thinking about masculine or feminine energy, and there are aspects of that no-fucks-to-give attitude that being alone in the mountains curates that I tend to carry back to civilization. So I curse like a sailor unless I’m actively trying not to, I don’t know how to sit like a normal person, and that part of my attitude is more masculine, but it comes from an odd place. 
Claude Becker - 
I’m bird-boned, tiny, with a half-buzzed dyke haircut. My face is crooked as fuck and my arms are way more ripped than the rest of me. Covered in bruises, scars, and wacky tan lines. And I’m probably dressed like the unholy offspring of David Bowie and Stella Gibson. Probably eating crackers. Probably barefoot.
The takeaway - life is weird. Just gotta roll with it.
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