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ohbo-ohno · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 3 - Pet Play

Ghost x Soap, Gaz x F!Reader, Soap x F!Reader - 3.7k (on ao3)

summary: Gaz and Ghost have an arrangement that allows their pets to get out some restless energy with one another. (Reader POV)

cw: puppy play, kitten play, muzzles, bondage (armbinder, handcuffs), leash, rough sex, reader is consenting but lowkey pretending she's not into it (she has a safeword but it's not mentioned in the drabble), degradation, exhibitionism

“Hey, Kyle,” Simon says, the door held open for Gaz to guide you through. “Brought the girl?”

“Course, mate,” your boyfriend laughs, one big hand snagging the hem of your sleeve and tugging you out from behind him. “You know her, she’s just bein’ shy.”

Your heart beats a little more quickly when Ghost just hums, looking you up and down with dark eyes. Kyle’s jacket covers your entire body, the long tan trench coat making you look just like the hooker you feel like tonight. The feeling of the material on your mostly-naked skin keeps you just on edge enough to hover around Kyle’s back, Simon's presence only making you more nervous.

“‘S that them?” A voice calls out from further in the house, and you can’t help but wince at the loud and quick footsteps as Soap runs to the entryway. He nearly stumbles to a stop when he appears in the doorway, too ridiculously large and broad to look anything but clumsy. His wrists are hooked to the collar around his throat, hands wrapped in black mitts and hanging loose over his chest, and he can’t quite keep his balance without leaning a shoulder against the doorway.

Other than the collar and the wire muzzle strapped to his face, he’s naked as the day he was born, cock hard and dripping between his thighs. You shift a bit, can't help imagining what he'd taste like if you were allowed to use your mouth tonight.

“Who the fuck else would it be?” Ghost gruffs, taking a puff from his cigarette and locking the front door behind you. Your nose curls beneath your muzzle at the smell of smoke, thankful that he snuffs it out a moment later.

“Hey, Tav,” Gaz greets, nodding at Soap instead of stepping forward for a bro hug like he usually would. He wraps an arm around your shoulders instead, leading you further into the cabin with Ghost at your back and Soap eagerly turning to lead the three of you to the living room, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. He looks silly with his hands locked like they are, but you know that's the point.

None of them try to speak to you, the black mask covering half of your face making it obvious that you couldn’t respond even if you wanted – that, and none of you are under any illusions of who’s role is what tonight, and yours has been the same since the four of you started playing around like this.

Johnny’s still got his freedom to speak, though, even with the wire muzzle strapped to his face. You’re thankful that he won’t be able to get his teeth into you this time, but a spiteful part of you wishes Ghost would’ve just shut him up fully instead. Johnny can get mean when he’s got his cock stuffed to the hilt inside a warm hole.

(You like it, is the thing, but you’d never admit it – Johnny’s insufferable enough with Ghost as a partner, and you’ve never met someone meaner and quicker to humble. You’re sure if you gave him even the slightest compliment, he’d somehow become a smug monster.)

Gaz shifts one hand to the base of your neck as he guides you behind Johnny and into the living room, where the couch and coffee table have been shoved against the walls to make room for you and Johnny. Ghost heads straight to what you’ve come to know as his chair, the seat of it sunken in from his weight and a beer already resting in the built-in cup holder. Soap follows him and kneels in front of his legs as soon as Simon settles, twisted to watch you and Gaz.

Kyle is sweet when he takes his jacket off of you, tugging it off slowly so you’re not exposed to the cool air too suddenly, calloused fingertips petting your skin.

“There we are, pretty,” he hums, tossing the jacket carelessly to the side and caressing your hips. “Gonna let Johnny have fun with you?”

You lean your head back, exposing your throat so you can nose at his jaw through your muzzle, trying to convey yes, but only for you without words. The little bell around your neck tinkles with the movement, the metal warmed by your skin.

Johnny moans aloud when your half-naked form is fully revealed, knees spreading as he sinks even lower, cock nearly brushing the floor. Your cheeks heat as you follow the way his eyes trace over your body, just as eager as he was the first time you did this.

You were fully naked then, but now Kyle’s dressed you up in what has to be the most girly lingerie he could find. The bralette provides no support whatsoever for your chest, but you have to admit that the white lace covering your nipples and cupping your breasts is pretty. The bows on the garters and panties were a nice touch, too, adding to the hyper-femininity of the overall look that you know Kyle loves. He let you keep the makeup from your face though, knowing how much you hate the feeling of streaky mascara.

Your arms are tied together straight in front of your body, with enough slack that you can fold them in half but not so much that you have anywhere near full movement. Kyle had spent almost an hour meticulously tying little white ribbons around the rope, kissing your arms as he went and making sure he had you exactly as immobile as he wanted.

The muzzle over your mouth is a clean white leather, something that Kyle works hard to keep clean and pristine, and it's fitted to the bottom half of your face. The gag in your mouth is small and non-invasive, allowing you to make as much noise as you want but keeping you from saying anything – that would ruin the fantasy. The gag causes plenty of spit to gather beneath your tongue, and every time you swallow you can feel your lightweight collar press against your throat, the little bell attached shifting with even the most minute movement.

The resulting look – the rope, the bows, the lace, the muzzle – is one that you love, even if it does make you feel like a doll being dressed up for someone else’s approval. You’re happy to get it in this case, when you know that Johnny will enjoy the look just as much as Kyle does and be all the more eager for you.

Ghost appreciates your appearance too, if his hum and the smirk lifting his lips is anything to go by.

Kyle presses a kiss to your shoulder as he lingers behind you, running his hands over the lace wrapping each of your curves, toying with the ribbons. “Like what you see, Si?”

Simon hums again, shifting further in his seat and spreading his knees, a king on his worn leather throne. “Sure. ‘S not gonna last long, though, not with this mutt.” He snorts, one booted foot knocking against Johnny’s naked thigh. “You know how he gets.”

Kyle laughs, warm breath puffing against your naked shoulder, then moves towards the couch, leaving you alone in the middle of the room, unsteady in your heels. You try to instinctively follow him, unsteady without your arms to balance.

He holds you with one hand for a moment, steadying you just enough so you don’t fall before moving away again. “You’re alright, love, just stay there for a second.”

You track him intently, feeling incredibly vulnerable without him at your side. He’s got a calm confident about him as he settles onto the couch, smiling at you and giving you enough comfort that you don’t quite melt into a puddle. You can’t keep yourself from shifting nervously, but your heartbeat is steady.

“We ready then?” Kyle asks once he’s comfortable, tapping his fingers on the arm of the couch.

“Hm,” Simon hums, shifting forward to lock a hand in Johnny’s collar where the chain connecting his hands is still locked. “Get on your knees, girl.”

Your eyes dart to Kyle’s, and at his nod and reassuring smile you take a deep breath, settling into your skin a bit.

It takes quite a bit of balance to sink to the floor without falling, trussed up as you are, but you manage it. The fact that you can bend your elbows helps tremendously, and you’re thankful for Kyle’s foresight.

You hesitate for a moment on your knees, taking a few steadying breaths and making sure you're not pushing yourself too quickly. You let your eyes linger on each of the other men, sizing them up, then begin to shift even lower.

Soap moans loudly when you sink to your stomach, back arched and ass pushed in the air with your arms laid out flat in front of you. You watch him carefully, face pressed to your arms as you settle as much as you can against the plush rug.

Johnny’s panting open-mouthed behind the muzzle, pupils already blown and cock kicking against his thigh. His hands keep twitching above his chest, like he’s tugging against the chain keeping him caught. You’re certain that if Ghost weren’t holding him, he’d already be on top of you and shoving himself deep even without hands to guide him.

“Pretty girl,” you hear Gaz coo, and when you glance at him you see he’s pressing the heel of his hand to the tent in his pants. “You gonna let your boy go anytime soon?”

“Please,” Johnny pants, wiggling towards you as much as he can.

“Easy,” Ghost scolds, yanking Johnny closer as he unclips the chain leash from his belt, metal jingling. “Trust me, Garrick, you don’t want him havin’ free-rein with the mood he’s in.”

You mewl behind the gag, but it goes unheard. Johnny certainly doesn’t miss the way you wiggle your ass though, eyes trained on the lace cupping you perfectly.

“Fuck, sir, c’mon,” he moans, turned to face you fully and straining to get as close as he can.

Ghost only grunts as he yanks Johnny back, forcing him to fall back against his legs and clipping his leash to the D-ring on the back of Soap’s collar, holding it tight to keep the pup from moving forward.

“You want to actually use your paws or not?” He growls, grabbing the chain connecting Johnny’s mitts to his collar and yanking, nearly sending the man to the ground. “Huh?”

“Yes, yes, c’mon, lemme touch her, sir, please–”

“What do you think, Gaz?” Simon asks, eyes trained on your form as you shift against the floor. “Want him touchin’ your pretty kitty? He might fuck her up.”

You mewl again, just barely audible, and Johnny moans like he’s already coming.

Gaz hums, stroking himself slowly over his pants. "Leave the mitts on,” he decides. “I like what she’s wearing, don’t want it ruined because one mutt can’t control himself.”

You know Johnny’s already sunk decently far into his headspace because he doesn’t respond to that even though his mouth's free, just continues to wriggle in Simon’s hold with his focus centered solely on you.

“Fair enough,” Ghost says, tone near a laugh. “Wouldn’t mind seein�� that set again, myself.” He shakes Johnny a bit, the leash’s links jingling loudly. “How about it, pup? Want to get dressed up all pretty for me?”

Johnny’s eyes nearly roll back in his head as he moans, and you’re momentarily concerned he’s going to come before he can even properly fuck you.

You shift against the floor to try and encourage Simon to just let go, shifting your knees apart so that you’re exposed more fully, the crotchless panties letting air brush over where you’re most sensitive.

Johnny’s whine is nearly drowned out by Simon’s laugh, and he’s unhooking the chain keeping Soap’s hands tied in the next moment.

You can hardly blink before Johnny’s on you, his heat enveloping you entirely as he throws himself over your back, hard cock already pressed against your folds.

Your arousal coats him immediately, and the two of you moan in sync at the feeling, his sound vibrating through your back and yours silenced by the soft gag in your mouth. His mitted hands rest on either side of your head, and the wire muzzle digs into your cheek as he tries his best to kiss you.

“Pretty, pretty,” he slurs, voice lower than it was just a few minutes ago. “Such a pretty kitty, all for me, yeah? Just for me.”

There’s a loud clink sound, and Johnny’s head jerks away from yours as he chokes.

“Not yours,” Gaz reminds as Ghost keeps Johnny from pressing back to you fully. “Just cause I let you fuck her doesn’t mean she belongs to you, puppy.”

You can just barely see Johnny’s scowl out of the corner of your eyes, your vision slightly blurred from tears as you wait impatiently for what you know comes next.

“Fuck, fine, Christ,” Johnny grumbles, and a moment later he’s back on you fully, tracing the muzzle over your shoulders. You know that if it weren’t there, you’d already have bruises slowly taking shape all over the column of your neck, and say a silent thank you to Ghost for sparing you the soreness.

Johnny ruts against you steadily for as long as you know he can handle, his thick cock hot against you. You writhe as best you can beneath him, but you’ve got almost no room to move with your arms bound as they are and Johnny’s weight holding you down.

“Can I fuck her, then?” He says, voice rough as the head of his cock brushes your clit. “C’mon, let me make her a mess, yeah? Shit, Gaz, she fuckin’ needs me, lemme fuck her, please–”

Gaz’s laugh is warm but Ghost’s is mean, and even you can’t help but melt a bit at the sound, trying to sink into the carpet.

“You should be askin’ me, mutt,” Simon says, yanking again on the leash so that Johnny’s head is tugged away from yours. “Gaz already gave you the girl, ‘s me you ask if you want to use that little prick.”

“Ghost, Ghost, c’mon, sir,” Johnny pants, and you can’t help but arch and press your hips back against him, just as desperate as he is. “I’ve been good, ye said so – I’ll fuck her good, promise, give ye a good show an’ everythin’, just let me- fuck, need to fuck her, cannae breathe, Si, just lemme–”

“Fine, fine,” Ghost finally says, tugging his cock from his pants as he lets the leash fall limp in his grasp and gives Johnny near freedom. “Pathetic thing, aren’t you?”

Anything else either Simon or Kyle says is lost to you, your ears ringing when you go from painfully empty to amazingly full, your cunt spread wide around Johnny in one breath.

He growls when he can’t bury himself to the hilt in one thrust, your walls clenching tight around him and desperately trying to accommodate his length. Kyle had just barely prepped you – just enough so you wouldn’t be seriously hurt, not enough to make this easy – and you can feel the lack of it now, hole stinging.

Your breath is stolen when, what feels like just a moment later, Johnny jerks back then sinks himself fully inside of you, balls resting against your clit. You’re glad the muzzle is breathable, because your lungs are spasming as your entire system is rocked, desperately trying to accommodate the sudden rush of pleasure, then need.

You can’t help the way tears stream down your cheeks as Johnny starts to truly fuck you, completely disregarding any need you might have to adjust to the stretch of his cock inside of you, immediately bullying himself into you again and again. The rush you get from going from almost no sensation to this is one you adore, and you try your best to fuck back on Johnny with what little leverage you have.

Your nails scratch desperately at the carpet, wide eyes locked onto Gaz as you’re relentlessly fucked, again and again. He’s fished his own cock out of his pants, sitting up straight and leaning towards you as he jacks himself with quick, smooth tugs. You nearly go cross-eyed trying to focus on his length, face bouncing against your tied arms and blurring your vision even further.

“Damn,” you hear Ghost grunt, voice so low you can barely hear it. “Look’it that, Garrick.”

“I see,” your boyfriend purrs, and you melt all the more at the sound of his voice, Johnny’s pace finally shifting onto the right side of too much, the burn in your hole shifting from pain to pleasure. “Your boy is wreckin’ her good, sir.”

“‘S what he’s trained for,” Ghost says, and Johnny moans. You can feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

Johnny doesn’t talk much as he fucks you this time, but he never does once he actually gets inside of you – he gets drunk on your cunt, always has, gets drooly and melty over you, thinking of nothing but his own pleasure. Lucky for you, the way your cunt spasms around him as you come is usually the fastest way for him to trigger his own orgasm.

That’s what you know he’s chasing now, as he bullies his cockhead against your g-spot again and again, one hand pressing on your shoulder to keep you held in a steep arch, his precision impressive considering he’s far past words and has been reduced to nothing but growls and moans.

Your moans escalate to squeals as you squirm against the floor, the lace of your bra rubbing perfectly against your nipples and your fingers twisting into the fibers of the carpet. You can feel the lines pressed into your back from where Johnny’s shoved his face against you, trying to get his mouth as close to your skin as possible. Instead of hickies you get spit, drool smeared all across your shoulder blades and neck.

You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips when it finally hits you, your orgasm shuddering through every limb as you convulse on the floor. Your cunt squeezes Johnny tightly, making him feel even larger inside of you as you scream through the gag.

Your vision whites out as Johnny fucks you even harder, free arm wrapping around your neck and hauling you as close to him as possible. He has to work to fuck in and out of you now, your body doing it's best to keep him still.

His muzzle presses into your cheek as he holds his face next to yours, both of you sweaty and hot as he uses you for his pleasure, clawing closer and closer to a peak you’re already floating blissfully on. His bicep flexed around your neck and your eyes roll back in your head at the display of strength, mindless with pleasure.

Your collar tingles delightfully as you’re jerked against Johnny with every thrust, melting into the music of Johnny’s moans and Kyle and Simon’s hands against their own cocks - Ghost is silent but you can hear Kyle moaning, always vocal when he's close.

You’re still blinking the stars from your eyes when you feel Johnny’s cum spurt inside of you, cock jerking as the man himself melting into a puddle over your lax body and humps you slowly.

Your eyes are half-lidded as he rides his own orgasm, sweat-slick and sticky as you float in the after of getting fucked rough and raw, a cock still plugging you for your hole to milk.

You can feel Johnny panting against your neck as he slowly comes down himself, running his paws over your sides once he lets his arm fall away from your neck. You’re pressed flat to the rug, his weight almost suffocating when he isn’t bothering to hold himself up.

You manage to open your eyes just in time to see Kyle come, the edges of your vision still blurred as he paints his own palm white. You’re yourself enough to whine, always sad to see his come go to waste when you could taste it or feel it painting your insides. Kyle’s smiling even as he shudders through his orgasm, like he knows just what you’re thinking and how badly you wish you could crawl to him and make it a reality.

But you’re firmly pinned beneath Johnny, even when he lifts his hips just enough to let his cock slip from you before dropping his weight again so you’re pressed entirely against one another.

Simon is the last to come, though he does so silently and you miss the exact moment he finally finishes – you only know because Johnny moans against you, hips rocking like he’s the one getting off, not another man nearly six feet away. Your eyes are already heavy by then, and you don’t bother looking over to see Ghost finish himself off, he’s never been the one you’re here for.

It’s several long moments before anything changes, and by then you’re nearly half-asleep. You’re distantly aware of Johnny either pulling away or being pulled away, even more aware of the unpleasant chill to your skin when your sweat and spit soaked back is left naked. You hear Gaz coo and feel his arms wrapping around you, leaving the soft rug slowly and behind lifted into his arms.

You purr softly, arms folded up to rest your hands beneath your chin, curling as far into Kyle’s arms as you can.

“Hush, kitty,” he whispers, settling back onto the couch with you on his lap. You press your face into the underside of his jaw, collar softly jingling. “You did so well for us, put on such a pretty show.”

“I was half of it,” you hear Johnny slur, his voice muffled, always the fastest to recover and get himself ready for round two.

“Hush,” Ghost scolds, and for once, Johnny obeys.

Gaz laughs softly, and you smile beneath the muzzle as you relax fully into his arms, warm and content as he holds you.

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unspeakable-imagination · 3 months ago

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Couch Cuddles || Logan Howlette/Wolverine

Kinda a drabble, not to long.

My masterlist is here

Cw:lumberjack logan even though it's not really mentioned, lots of fluff/cuddles, mentions of sex but nothing happens, use of tabacco and alcohol, established relationship, use of petnames, fem reader

SEND IN YOUR ASK REQUESTS, ILL MAKE MORE CONTENT

"I'll be back soon," Logan said as he placed a warm kiss to the top of your temples. "I need to go to work. You know where to find me, right, princess?" You nodded silent.

His eyebrows creased and his lips turned to a small frown. You hardly caught it, but you did."I love you, Logan. Drive safe, okay?"

His mood had shifted the moment the first three words left your lips, and he already felt better. "I will, baby girl." Before you knew it, he was out the door and you were sitting on the sofa, curled in a blanket in the cabin he's built by hand for the two of you.

You'd been living together for a year, and dating for two. Maybe it was a little fast to move in, but he pulled you out of water when it felt like tou were drowning.You were stuck in living a life of manotany and Logan was always looking for some way to make his own exiting. And somehow- he figured that was you.

You weren't sure why- as you really thought you wanted different things than him. You wanted to settle down, maybe even have kids. You wanted to dance in a kitchen and shoo a cat off the table, and watch your kids throw sticks for a dog to chase.

You wanted a life of meangful relationships, not just the one you viewed with Logan. You weren't even sure if you two were considered dating.

You'd never made it official, just kind of- moved in. Sure, you were intimate, you'd discussed being exclusive, and agreed that while you were together- it would just be a simply monogamous relationship, but what kind of relationship was it?

You bristled at the idea of it simply being a situationship. You loved him and the idea of that almost made your heart shatter. Maybe you'd have to talk to him when he came home.

To fill your time, you opted to just sit with a warm cup of tea- you weren't sure what kind, you hadn't paid attention, and a book. It was some silly fantasy story about mutants, monsters, and fairy's. Midevil monster hunters, swords and magic. The white-haired protagonists adopting a cheeky blonde princess and teaching her the ways of his guild.

And you got a good portion through it, with good breaks between meals and some normal daily activities, basic cleaning, laundry, and putting something in the oven for when Logan did finally come home.

The day passed you quickly and by the time you were taking dinner from the oven, a simple cottage pie, Logan's truck rumbled as it pulled to the window and parked in its rightful spot. You watched him run his hands through his hair, you noticed the look on his face, and you watched him light his cigar before he opened the truck door and heave his way out.

Your eyes followed him as he walked past the window , towards the doorway, and lost him as he entered. You quickly averted you gaze and resorted to dishing a heaping pile of the hot meal into two bowls. Grabbing them and weaving past the chairs of the dining table, you brought them to the coffee table where Logan had sat down.

"Welcome home, Lo." It was quiet but you knew he heard you with how he gently perked. He took a deep breath and it was like a calm wave washed over him, the closer you got.

"Hey, darlin'," he started. He watched you place the two bowls onto the table and sit down next to him. He pulled the cigar from his lips and blew his smoke away.

"What are you thinking tonight? Need a drink or some soda? Water?"

"Just a beer is okay, please, love?" You were quick to get it, and your own tall glass of milk. You popped the cap from the bottle and returned to his side. She was already scarfing down his food, starved from the tirless hours he'd been working at the mill. You placed the bottle on a coaster and took your seat beside him.

You took a drink of your milk before you grabbed your own bowl, but paused before you ate. Logan put his fork in his bowl and grabbed your knee, pulling your leg to drape across his own. It made your stomach flutter, and your heart quickened at the smallest but of affection.

Logan was craving your touch most of the day. He felt so desperate for a good day, a real day, a long day with you. He'd been so busy at the mill that he'd hardly had a day off and was itching to spend time with you aside from curling up, wrapping his arms around your waist as you sleep.

He missed hearing your laugh, and missed your smile, even the small ones. He'd missed being around for more than sleep and mornings. Sure, he'd come home and snake his tounge or hips between tough thighs, but that's not what he needed. He needed you. He needed your words.

Eating was mostly silent, peaceful. You'd asked the normal questions, and ge did too. How was your day, what did you do, what did you eat, I missed you.

Logan had long finished his food as you sat there, finishing your last bites. Patting your belly, you sighed. "I'm sure full. Do tou need any more, Lo?"

"No, baby. Let me grab thoes." He'd stood and grabbed both your bowls and him empty bottle, taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the sink and garbage.

He returned and sat down, pulling you closer to his hip."Want to watch a movie, darlin'?" It was a simple ask- but it was the way he asked it thag had you turning to putty in his arms. His lips rested against your forehead, his nose in your hair. He took a deep breath, humming at how good you smelled to him

"No, I just wanna hold you." he was sure he felt his heart stop. That was all he needed from you. He just needed your attention, your love. "But Lo," you hummed. "I need to talk to you about something. Oh no. Oh god no, we're you going to leave him? The one relationship he's had successfully- and he was worried he'd loose you. He pulled his fingers from your hair and leaned backwards onto the couch, but still facing you.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your face buried in his chest. What?

"What you wanna talk about, baby girl?" He said, his hands sliding up your legs and settling around your waist, locking his fingers together to hold you.

"Us," you said, your breah came out shaky, as if you were gonna cry. You raised your head from his chest and looked at him, one right land moving to cup the side of his face. "What are we, Lo?" You sounded so meek and nervous. "I'm so scared that this is just some situationship and i-"

He interrupted you. "What, a situationship? Baby, your going to be my wife." Your heart skipped a beat. Did you hear him right? You hadn't even established dating? Had you missed something

"I- I what?" He groaned. "Fuck, I was going to wait to ask you." He easily lifted you with one of the arms he ticked under you thigh and fished his other hand in his pocket. He'd pulled out a small green box. "It's not all that fancy." Your hand left his face and covered your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

"Logan," you softly gasped. Once you were sat back comfortably on his lap he opened the ring box in front if you. It was a thing, shiny silver ring with a pretty diamond set into the band. It was simple, charming, and it glimmered. "Logan I love it."

"Hold on, baby. I havnt even gotten the chance you say it. [Name], will you marry me? Can we live the rest of our lives together? I need you to be more than my girlfriend. I need you to be my wife. I need tou to be the mother of our babies." He looked down to the ring, then back up at your face, tears freely flowing from your eyes.

"Yes logan, God yes. I want to marry you, I can't wait. I can't wait for us to have a family." He grinned and took the ring out, grabbing your hand and placing it on your ring finger. You leaned down, curling into his chest, listening to his heart. You sighed.

"I love you, my [Name]."

#logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #hugh jackman #logan x reader #deadpool and wolverine #imagine #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fluff #fluff

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 month ago

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Exclusively My Idiot

Summary: You know Dean can be an idiot, but could he ever be your idiot exclusively?

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Warnings: None really. Just some kissing/making out and some jealousy. Also fluff.

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: This is my first gif drabble for my 2K followers celebration! The gif shown in the title card above came from this gif request from @jackles010378 . Thanks so much for sending this fun gif, of our charming, sexy boy!

This will also fill the square, "I hate how much you acting like an idiot makes me want to make out with you.", for my @jacklesversebingo 2024 card.

Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Your blood was boiling as you watched The Woman putting her hands all over Dean. Well, all over his bicep anyway. She just kept touching him, laughing at everything he was saying.

He’s not that funny, sweetie. You thought to yourself.

You and Dean had been on this case for nearly a week and you’d questioned this woman three times now. Well, Dean questioned her. You'd offered to do it this time, but Dean had just smiled at you.

“N’ah, I got it sweetheart. She’s obviously into me, so I can keep her busy while you search her hard drive for any information on what's-his-name.” He shrugged. “You’re better at all that computer bullshit anyway. So you do what you do, and I’ll do what I do.”

He’d given you a wink and a smile that made you nearly melt into the floor. But you played it off, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel to get away from Dean’s effortless charisma.

Now, standing in her office, you were waiting for the thumb drive you’d plugged into her computer to download everything she had on the guy you and Dean were pretty sure was a monster. This info would very likely confirm it, so what you were doing was important. You had to be quick and stealthy. But instead you were standing at her office window, looking out at the reception area and watching her flirt endlessly with “FBI Agent Cobain”.

It was so stupid of you to feel jealous like this. You and Dean were very happily friends with benefits and nothing more. He didn’t owe you anything, and you had no stamp or claim on him. He was free to flirt with anyone he wanted.

You reminded yourself of that very harshly as you shot daggers at The Woman.

Her back was to you, and Dean was facing you. He caught you staring out the window and raised a brow in your direction. He was asking if you were finished, but you shook your head. Dean stepped closer to The Woman so he could slip his hand around her back where she couldn’t see it. He waved his hand at you in a gesture that told you to hurry up.

You held up a hand, palm out, to tell him to just wait and be patient.

“Can’t make the computer go any faster, dumbass.” You mumbled to yourself, but you forced yourself to turn away from the window, and Dean’s hand on The Woman’s lower back, and check on the progress of the download.

It was only a minute more before the computer beeped and the download was complete. You yanked out the thumb drive and tiptoed out of her office, giving Dean a thumbs up as you left.

You hoofed it down the stairs, all the way to the parking garage that was your rendezvous spot. You found Baby sitting in the very last stall and hoisted yourself up onto her hood to wait.

And wait…

And…wait!

It was almost twenty minutes before you finally saw Dean coming around the corner of the building and into the entrance of the parking lot. He looked a little disheveled and your heart plummeted. Looked like The Woman had gotten pretty handsy, and not in a way that would be office appropriate.

He approached the car and had a silly grin on his face. You recognized it as his slightly abashed and embarrassed smile and you wondered what exactly he’d done that made him feel embarrassed.

Nevermind, you thought, I don’t wanna know.

“Hey!” He said as he approached. “Get everything?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” Dean answered and started to walk around Baby’s hood to get to the driver's side.

You gave a bad imitation of a chuckle, and waved him back towards you. “Hey, how far did Sexy McSexington push her flirting? Took you forever to get out here and it looks a bit like you’ve spent some time making out in the copy room.” You waved at his loosened tie and wrinkled white shirt.

Dean arched a brow and tilted his head slightly. “And if I did? Does that bother you?”

You scoffed a little too hard. “What? Of course not. I was just wondering how far you had to go in the name of keeping your cover.”

Dean pushed out his lips and nodded slowly, walking back to you and pushing your legs open on the hood so he could stand between your knees.

“Is that right?” His voice was disbelieving. “So, you won’t care if I tell you all about the way she pulled me into a supply closet,” he raised a finger, “not the copy room, and had her wicked way with me?”

His gaze glinted with mischief and you rolled your eyes. “Ugh! Spare me the details, please.” You pushed on his chest lightly so he’d move and let you get down, but he didn’t budge.

“You don’t wanna hear about the way she went down on her knees and-”

You shoved your fingers in your ears. “La la la la la!” You sang loudly out of tune.

Dean pulled on your wrists, forcing your hands down by your side and gave you another wink and a smile. “It does bother you. Admit it, you don’t wanna know about my office escapades do you? Cause YOU wanted to be the one with me in the copy room.”

He waggled his eyebrows and nodded quickly. “Huh? Huh? Because you think I’m gooorgeous, you want to kiiiiss me, you want to huuuug me.” He said, quoting Miss Congeniality and doing a bad Sandra Bullock impersonation. “You want to loooove me. You want to smoooch me.”

You cut him off with a kiss, tugging on his tie to bring him down to your mouth. He chuckled against your lips and then tilted his head slightly so he could deepen the kiss. He swept his tongue past your lips and licked up into the roof of your mouth, tasting you thoroughly and moaning down your throat. He fisted his hand in your hair and pulled your head back so he could slide his open mouth down your neck, scraping his teeth against your sensitive skin and making you shudder.

“Oh god,” you moaned out, “I hate how much you acting like an idiot makes me want to make out with you.”

You felt him smile against your skin before he ran his tongue back up your neck to just behind your ear. He nibbled there for a moment before moving his lips to the shell of your ear and whispering to you, low and sexy.

“Just FYI, there was no copy room, or supply closet.”

You pulled away a little so you could look him in the eye, giving him a suspicious look. “Then what took you so long, and why do you look so…disheveled.”

His sheepish smile was back, and he ducked his head slightly. “I may have needed to escape her by ducking into the men’s room and then crawling out the window.”

Your eyes widened. “Her office is on the third floor!”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say it was easy.”

You shook your head. “You’re such an idiot.” Then you kissed him softly. “But…do you maybe wanna be my idiot? I mean, exclusively my idiot?”

Dean smiled and bit into his bottom lip. “Absolutely.”

#dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fluff #jacklesversebingo24 #2K celebration #gif drabbles #gif request #drabble requests

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 1 year ago

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You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.

This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!

Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.

Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?

Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.

You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."

You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.

You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."

Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."

You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."

"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"

"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."

"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.

"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."

That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"

"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."

Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"

You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.

"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.

Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."

"Well in that case..."

And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.

Little star, so bright and fierce,

Beautiful with eyes that pierce,

But that's not all there is,

He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,

Charming and witty, a wish come true,

If only the rest of the world knew.

Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.

And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #lyric writing is not my strong suit yall #short and sweet for once #shocking #I got seven more asks to go from this last batch so stay on the look out if you sent one #i am not #a lyric writer or poet #if you could not tell #shhhh don't look at me #bard tav

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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year ago

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Are you still writing about kinktober? I wanted the 28th with Alucard, please, and if you can't order it anymore, sorry!

A/N: Hi anon I hope you enjoy this! I got distracted halfway through and nearly forgot the prompt and just started writing smut whoops lol but I hope you like the lil drabble mwuah!

CW: handjob, pet names, cum, pussyjob (kind of?), subby Alucard idk what to tell you.

Panties/Lingerie x Alucard

It was a long day. It was a long, unforgiving day. Alucard had been all over the village, practically at the beck and call of the people. All for rather silly instances, but he helped nonetheless. He felt as if he needed to repay a debt his father had with humanity. But today? Was a long fucking day. And to top it all off there was a (very minor!) night creature attack. It was easy enough to deal with, but what he wasn’t anticipating was being covered in monster guts as he walked through the doors of his castle. He groaned, trying his best to get all the extra gunk off before treading through the corridors.

“Adrian? Are you home?” Ah, his saving grace. You popped your head out of the bedroom with a look of concern plastered on your face. “Oh honey, what happened?” Alucard sighed, furrowing his brows and shaking his head. “I promise, you don’t want to know.” You gave him a sympathetic smile before taking a (clean?) hand and leading him to the bathroom. “Come on, come take a bath and I’ll give you a nice relaxing massage when you’re done, how does that sound?” He could have melted at the thought. “It sounds heavenly, darling. Thank you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before scurrying into the bathroom the scrub his skin raw. You on the other hand, had a few different ideas in mind before he got out.

After a much needed extensive bath, Alucard finally felt at peace in being in his own skin. After wringing out his hair and wrapping a towel around his hips, he returned back to the room ready to be able to relax with his love. “Darling, if you’re too tired you don’t--oh.” You stopped him dead in his tracks with what you were wearing. There you were in all your glory, wearing one of his favorite lingerie sets--a wine red teddy, with a lace snake applique and mesh covering your chest. You wore the matching panties, a rather small and useless g-string that barely covered your front let alone your back. You looked at him so innocent, sitting back on your knees with candles lit and oil on the nightstand, as if you dressed in such attire was normal. “Come lay down, love.” You patted the bed scooting back as he walked over to you in a daze. “What’s all this?” He gestured to you, smirk plastered on his face. You shrugged. “You look like you had a stressful day, I want to give you a massage. Is that so bad?”

Oh, you tricky little minx.

Alucard chuckled and let you have your fun, laying down on his stomach to give you access. “Thank you, sweetheart. You don’t have to do this.” The implication was deeper than the massage, but you pushed forward. “Oh hush, just enjoy this.” you applied a fragrant eucalyptus essential oil to your hands to warm it up before working at his shoulders and neck. You rubbed and dug into his muscles, loosening up any of the knots you could feel. Alucard practically moaned under your touch, melting into the bed more and more with each knot released. “Feel good?” you giggled when he nodded, working down lower towards his back. Knuckles dug into the muscle, working through the stress until he was more pliable underneath you. You leaned down and kissed the back of his neck as you continued to work at his back. You went at it for a solid twenty minutes before you tapped on his back and asked him to turn around. “Come on, gotta work at your chest too.” was your excuse, and continued to play your little game. Alucard turned with a smile and you went to straddle him. “Helps with leverage” You’d say, throwing him a cheeky little smile and warmed up more oil in your hands before working the same way on his shoulders and down his chest.

You really were just massaging him, innocent, like you said you would. So imagine his surprise when you leaned and started kissing on his neck and nipping, hands trailing down to his groin. His eyes shot open (when did he close them?) and made an indignant sound from his throat. “Shh, honey, let me take care of you. You did so much today.” You cooed, shimmying down and unwrapping the towel he still had on--the only thing he had on. Alucard’s breathing hitched as oiled hands grabbed onto his now half hard cock, pumping him fully. His hands hovered over your hips, unsure if he should even stop--even if just to admire you. “Darling..” He whispered, hips thrusting into your hand when you gripped him a bit firmer. You leaned back, slowly and deliberately jerking his cock, the lingerie set on fully display now.

“God, you know how much I love when you wear that set.” He groaned out, eyes fluttering as he watched you through his lashes. The way your tits looked in the sheer cups drove him wild. They looked so delicious, leaving nothing to the imagination and yet it was a beautiful surprise. He especially loved the detailing on the snakes, trailing up your body making you look like the goddess he always envisioned you to be. The panties were just wide enough to cover your pussy, however just as sheer--and now darkened with a wet patch of your arousal. He wanted to lick and suck your cunt of your juices. But the way you looked like an ethereal being, pumping his dick and your eyes half lidded stopped him in his tracks. You took your time, fingers smearing his precum over the shaft, free hand cupping his balls. Adrian shut his eyes tight, stifling back a groan and trying his damndest to stop himself from shooting a load so quick. But the vision of you in that lingerie set was burned into his retinas, and not even closing his eyes would help him when you still looked just as good in his memory. “F-Fuck, sweetheart, I won’t last if you keep going.” His hands tightened on the sheets of the bed, fucking himself up into your hand. “You don’t have to, Adrian. I want you to cum for me, please honey.” Your words sounded so sickeningly sweet, like molasses dripping from your tongue. You opened your mouth and let a glob of your saliva drip down to the tip of his reddened cock, trailing his shaft and giving you more lube to slicken up his cock. Your hand increased in speed, flicking your wrist for better motion.

Adrian’s mouth hung open, trying with all his might to keep his eyes on you. It felt so undeniably good, he was lost in the pleasure of it all. You took the look in his eyes as being distracted, and suddenly your clothed pussy was pressed against his dick, and Adrian felt all the heat radiating from that tight little cunt that he knew to be his and his alone. “Fuck.” Was all he could say before shooting thick ropes of cum onto the red teddy, cum reaching as high as covering your tits, spilling over your stomach and dripping onto your pussy. His cock twitched in your hand as you milked him dry, smearing the cum on his head directly onto the sheer panties, sight of it having him shooting one last spurt into the fabric. His head hit the pillow, trying to catch his breath. Alucard took one last peak at you, rubbing his cum into the fabric and scooping up a particularly large glob right onto your tongue and swallowing. The sight of it was getting him hard again.

“I’ll take good care of you, honey.” You promised, before pulling the panties off to the side and rubbing your cunt right on his hardening cock. You weren’t done with him, and if he were being honest with himself, the way you were looking in that set he wasn’t going to be done with you for a few more hours.

#milk writes #adrian tepes #alucard x reader #castlevania #adrian tepes x reader #alucard #alucard tepes x reader #castlevania (2017)#milk kinktober #smut

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 2 years ago

Text

||Dangerous Hide and Seek: Round Three||

Hi everyone, Peahen mom here and it's time to add part three to this little silly drabble. This was a idea/request from my friend @demon-blood-youths

Even so, hope you like. <3

~~Drabble Summary~~

After a while, Daichi has found a hiding spot but was discovered by Sukuna so now he's back on the run again! The game continues with him running for his life but what will happen now? Will he get caught? Read to find out!!

||Warning||

~Nothing much but a very angry Megumi

~Swearing

~Beating up/fighting maybe

~~Guests in the drabble~~

Yuji Itadori, Sukuna, Gojo Sautro, Nobara Kugisaki, and Megumi fushiguro belong and is from the jujutsu kaisen manga and anime show. But they are also mine due to rping as them as muses.

Some of the fraction leaders, Ashley, Jinx, Rex, Willow, and Yuuka belong to me along with their fractions.

~~Demon mun's guests~~

Kisho a.k.a Daichi Phoenix

Taz Hellion and Kinie Ger belongs to her.

The fraction leaders Ink, Kali, Fin, Joshua, Guam, Ethan, and Matt along with their fractions too

((Their will be grammar errors in this so it's just a heads up. This was written for fun so..I hope you like.))

After running in with Sukuna and Kinie, Kisho a.k.a Daichi has got away from the two while taking a quick breather in a hidden area in the school. He still can sense their cursed energy lingering out there but he sighs. Eito chirps worried to have him look.

"I know, I know I'm alright. Just freaking scared shitless right now. I have to do something or else I'm screwed!! Maybe if I can just find Gojo sensei, he might know what to do!" he said but looks. "Though, it's that or he'll rat me out." He mutters with a sweatdrop but hearing it was quiet, Kisho gets out of his hiding spot and runs down the hallway to the lower level of the school but he was running near the nurse's office where as he makes a turn out of that area, Kinie and Sukuna was just showing up.

"Damn it! where the fuck did he go!? I could have sworn his cursed energy was right here!" Sukuna looks around but Kinie was smelling the air to seeing her shadow monsters smelling too.

"He was here but he got away. Damn it! He's such a chicken but when I get my hands on him I'll.." she still was mad that Eito leaves a bruise on her forehead from being pecked. Sukuna sighed but looks to her.

"Don't worry, we will find that little shit. He couldn't have gone far. Megumi is looking on the other side so we will find him!" he said while the two rush down the hall still looking around.

'Kinie please!! You have to stop this!! I'm sure Kisho didn't mean to-'

"Oh sure he didn't but even so, he's dead meat!!" she said to Taz looking worried.

'She's right you know! Come on you two give us control of our bodies!!' Yuji shouts out but Sukuna ignores.

"As I said, we won't kill him; but he's still getting the beat down of his life!" he said as the two keeps looking around.

Though, it did leave the question of where Gojo was? Well......

~~With Gojo~~

He was sitting on a chair while tilting his head seeing he was in a video call with Taz's friends! the fraction leaders were in a meeting with Gojo right now though they were talking at the same time that Gojo was sighing trying to calm them all down.

"Easy now, one at a time! One at a time!" he said trying to calm them down. They all did calm down but he sighs.

"Okay, so what is going on again?" he asked.

"We found more of those weird charms that was sent from there to here! So now we are asking-" Jinx started but heard Echo shouting in the back.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS DAICHI!! THIS IS HIS FAULT FOR SENDING THEM BECAUSE THEIRS BEEN MORE CURSED SPIRITS AND MONSTERS ALL OVER NEW YORK!"

"Echo, will you please chill!" Gojo heard Breezy's voice in the background with he saw the other leaders shouting but Gojo calms them down.

"One at a time please!!" he sweatdrops but they calm down. "Listen, I wasn't expecting him to even sell that many charms to where you all were. But..have the sightings gotten worse?" he asked.

"By worse you mean seeing more of them that is becoming a pain in the ass? Then YES!" Matt's voice shouted out crossing his arms.

"Though, we taken care of them when sighted but more just keeps popping up! i mean, what the fuck!? Is everyone all over the world buying these damn charms like clockworks or something!?" Kali shouted.

"Easy Kali...." Rex said trying to calm her down while he was looking ahead. "But she's right. We been trying to stop the spirits and did, but more keeps being seen all over."

"It's becoming a little problem now and we are seeing more and more that will become a problem later on.." Guam said with Fin agreeing. "Not to forget we are all tired out from slaying more and more every day of the week. Heck, my boys are exhausted now!" he shows his team who was laying on the ground tired.

"...Huh. Well, I know Daichi has stopped the sales so no one else should be able to get the charms. That oorrrrrr..the last shipments went out before he stopped for a hiatus." Gojo said rubbing the back of his head that Joshua looks.

"Wait, last shipments?" Ink asked confused with a tilt of her head.

"Yes. I remember from what the site said, their was a few more shipments being sent out so I believe those last few were already delivered." He explains to the leaders.

"So even if he stopped it, the remaining ones still remained being delivered." Willow sighed with arms crossed worried with Ethan shaking his head.

"Well, as long as he stopp...stopped the s..shipments i..it's fine right?" Ashley asked Gojo but he nods.

"Yes but I believe his sales stopped after checking the site.." Gojo said pulling it up on screen. "From the last time, it was 2.5 billion sold so it still should be-" As he pulls it up he stops to the leaders looking.

"What?" he heard them asked to sigh. "Well, make that 4.5 billion. Seems the sales still went up." Gojo said that the leaders blinks before letting that sink in for a moment.

3...2....1...

Some team members fell out of their chairs to fall on the ground twitching in shock. Others spat their drinks out coughing. As for the leaders......

"WHAT!?!"

"That's impossible!!"

"Wow; that's a big number! That's a lot of charms sold!" Ink said laughing. "That's really explains the curses all over here!" she smiled.

"THAT'S NOT A GOOD THINK INK! THAT EXPLAINS WHY THEIRS SO MANY OF THEM!" Kali shouted.

"But that means we can get more stronger now and keeping our areas safe!" she smiled that Kali facepalms.

"Your an idiot sometimes.." she grumbles.

"Now now, I'm sure it can't be that bad-"

Suddenly, the door slides open before being closed to hear someone panting as Gojo looks seeing Daichi looking scared. "Uhhhh Daichi-"

"Gojo Sensei! You gotta hide me! Megumi, Sukuna, and Kinie Ger is hunting me down! You have to help me!" he said moving away from the door but Gojo blinks to look at him.

"Uhh, wait, they are? Wow, seems Megumi found out already. They can't be that mad can they?" he asked but before answering he heard a loud explosion.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!?" Sukuna's voice shouted.

"WE WILL FIND YOU AND YOUR SO GONNA REGRET MAKING A FOOL OUT OF ME!" Kinie Ger shouted next.

"GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE DAICHI! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" And Megumi's voice.

"......."

"Or not.." Gojo said.

"See?! Please, you have to hide me before-"

"YOU!"

He winces to look seeing the fraction leaders who was either annoyed or angry. "Uh oh...uhhhhh...H..Hi?" he said waving.

"DON'T YOU SAY HI YOU IDIOT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT MESS YOU LEFT FOR US ALL!? DO YOU EVEN KNOW YOU SOLD 4.5 BILLION CHARMS ALL OVER THE WORLD!?" Rex shouted as the leaders looks at a very scared Kisho to see the anger in their eyes.

"You left a big mess because we got damn curses lingering all through our territories!?" Kali said.

"I KNOW, I KNOW! I'M SO SORRY! I DIDN'T KNOW THE OTHER LAST SHIPMENTS WOULD STILL GO THROUGH! PLEASE, I'LL FIND A WAY TO FIX THIS!!!!!" He said quickly sweatdropping scared.

"YOU BETTER FIX THIS OR ELSE YOUR FUCKING DEAD!" Kali hissed.

"AGAIN, I'M SO SORRY! T-T" he cries to them. However, that's when the leaders heard something loud. The teammates goes to check it out but that's when the came rushing back panicking.

"What?! What's wrong now?" Kali said looking for a moment but heard a shout. "WHAT THE FUCK!? WHAT IS THAT-" that's when her video screen went to static.

"KALI!!" Rex said before he heard something smashing in the background of his own area before his screen went out.

"WHAT IS HAPP-" Matt's own went to static.

"T..their's cursed monsters outside! T..they are attacking-" Ashley's screen went to static next.

"Ash!! What is going on-" Joshua's own screen went out next.

"........Oh crap! Guys, move!! Everyone mo-" Guam's screen went out.

"You better fix this, dude! These curses are getting wo-" Fin's screen went out.

"Oh crap-WHAT THE FUC-" Jinx's screen was out after a screech was heard with her teams screaming to fight.

"Guys?! Guys, what is going-" Yuu's screen was out next.

"Something is going on! The curses are-" Willow's screen went out.

"Fix this now, Daichi or so help me-" Ethan's screen was next going out.

"Holy crap! It's gotten bigger than last time!" Ink shouted hearing the loud noise and Navarro's shouting. "INK WILL YOU PLEASE FOCUS AND-" and her screen goes out leaving Gojo and Daichi with static screens.

"o......o;"

"....You do know if they come back, they will be more angry with you right?" Gojo said to him but he sweatdrops.

"Y..Yeah.....I'm so fucked. Even worse now that Shdwkyz and Vivi knows......they will seriously gut me thanks to this." he said before he saw the door get smashed down to Daichi jumping. However, he saw Megumi grab the back of his uniform.

"FOUND YOU!" It was Megumi.

"AHHHHH!! NOOOOOOO!!" he turns to struggle and gets free to run away with Megumi chasing him.

"GET BACK HERE DAICHI!"

"I'M SORRY!! I'M SO SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I'LL FIND A WAY TO FIX ALL THIS PLEASE!!!" he screams crying.

"YEAH YOU CAN FIX IT WHEN I GET MY FUCKING HANDS ON YOU!!" he shouted with Daichi screaming in horror running away from him down the hallway while Gojo remains there so sigh.

"This has been one crazy afternoon. I wonder if they have the jelly today." He thinks however, he saw Sukuna and Kinie run in but goes past knowing Megumi found him as he sighs. After a bit, Megumi had Daichi trapped who was twitching crying.

"Megumi please!! Please have mercy! Look! I stopped my site and I won't sell another charm till I know how to do it right! Please, just spare me!" he cries begging him even when Eito was chirpping but Megumi saw Sukuna and Kinie ger show up.

"..Sorry Daichi, you have to learn the hard way and that's with being punished." He said that he was crying looking at Kinie and Sukuna grinning evil like.

"Ohhhh this is going to be fun." He said cracking his knuckles.

"Be sure you leave some for me, my king." Kinie chuckled.

Daichi was shaking as he backed up to make sure Eito was not near. "WAIT!! WAIT PLEASE NO! NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOO!!" His scream was loud to echo through the grounds as birds flew off in the distance.

~~Hours later~~

Yuji and Taz finally got control again but they were saying sorry to Daichi who was looking a mess after getting the beat down of his life. He was laying on the school bed crying from being wrapped up in bandages and having sores on his face from the hits.

"We are so so so sorry Daichi!" Yuji said worried.

"Y..Yeah, we are so sorry!" Taz cries worried.

"Geez, Megumi. Did you have to really go that bad on him?" Nobara looks to him but he was finally calm.

"Oh come on, it was not that bad. Besides, he learned didn't he?" he argues back while Daichi was twitching crying in pain.

"..Pain...Pain hurts s..so much.." He said crying.

"*Sighs* Besides, he knows now to never make charms till he's learned. Right Daichi?" Megumi said seeing him tense.

"Y..Yes! I won't make an..any charms till I know how!" he said scared.

"See? Problem solved." Megumi said but Nobara sweatdrops to shake her head. Gojo was visiting him too to sigh.

"Well, everything is fine now so no worries." He said but remembers. "Though, I wonder if your friends back home took care of that little problem with the curses.." He said that Taz heard.

"Huh?!? What do you mean, Gojo sensei?!" Taz said worried.

"Well....lets just say they gave me a call but I'm sure they are fine Taz.." he said but Taz sweatdrops worried. Oh boy.

~~Back home in New York~~

The fraction leaders Ink, Jinx, Joshua, Ashley, Guam, Fin, Kali, Rex, and Yuuka along with their teams were really tired and drained from the mess they took care of. They were all messed up and covered in dirt and cursed monsters blood while sitting on the ground catching their breath. Even got some help from Ethan, Willow, and Matt who was tired too.

".....Remind me....to kick his ass..if we ever see that idiot again." Echo grumbles laying on the ground while Jinx was tried laying back with her team.

"That was..crazy! I didn't expect that. Did you Ink?!?" Jinx said.

"No but that was something!" she said. The two leaders were talking about it before getting bonked on the heads by Vivi and Shdwkyz showing bumps. The two's eyes were closed with veins popping on their foreheads.

"Will you two please take this seriously!?" they said.

"OW!" Ink held her head.

"Owie! What did I do!?" Jinx said holding her head too. The others saw this but falls back tired from this. Yeah, what a crazy afternoon it was indeed.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #Dangerous Hide and Seek: Round three #taz hellion #Daichi phoenix #yuji itadori #sukuna #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #kinie ger #The fractions of NYC #The fractions out of NYC #demon-blood-youths #peahen writer #jujutsu sorcerers au

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snurtle · 2 years ago

Note

Please I need more of the 'Gin and Tousen survive' AU im starving for themTM content

It’s been a hot minute since I got this ask! Care for a drabble? I wrote this a while ago but I just never got around to posting it. I’m always starving for more AU content of them too my dude ! 😭

840ish words of questionable decisions and research acquisitions ft! Yoruichi and Kisuke. Gin is not technically in this one except as the object of conversation, but it does set up the scenario I like to imagine for Gin’s half of the “los stinky boys survive” AU, so good enough in my books.

_________

"What in the world compelled you to save him? Do you have any idea the consequences it could bring down on our heads?” Yoruichi demands with the imperiosity of a lord, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Ichimaru Gin is not exactly an obscure persona non grata. Urahara!"

"I don't know...." Kisuke stalls. Reclined on the floor as he was, his head leaned back, the late afternoon light radiating through the paper doors made his dark eyes gleam gold. Up until the unfortunate discovery of a makeshift ICU in the basement, he’d been trying (and mostly succeeding) to sneak in a nap. Even given the impossible, ridiculous powers of Benihime, to stitch back together what remained of the former traitor captain had been no easy task... and he could not remember the last time he had ever considered himself a healer. To excise the pernicious reiatsu from the wound, to modify just enough of his soul chain and soul sleep that Ichimaru could survive a continued intrusion from it while Urahara figured out another stop-gap... It was a lot.

Finally, Kisuke hits on the string of words he was after, just as a black Tabi sock starts to insistently probe the soft space under his floating rib for weak organs.

"Ahh, ah-! I suppose I feel responsible for him!"

Yoruichi's eyebrows lift a fraction of an inch. She pulls her foot back for a kick.

"In a way! He's a bit like Jinta and Ururu, or even little Nemu...” Kisuke half whines, half explains, squidging hurriedly away from the imminent contact. “The product of being raised with monsters, or- ahaha- something like that."

"Oho! That's a good explanation Kisuke.” Yoruichi says. Her foot continues to hover just a centimeter above the floor mat, but the promise of an explanation stalls her ire.

“I might even believe it, if I were anyone else. But that’s a hell of an evasion. Something more concrete, please."

At this, Urahara laughs, a silly man caught in an easy deflection. He pulls his hat further down over his face.

"You're a little too good at reading me, Miss Yoruichi..." he says, mock mournful.

"A good lord must know his vassal and source of wet food like the back of his hand."

"Cat."

"Mouse. The actual reason." She crooks her hand as if waiting for Kisuke to place something in it. When his head turns a fraction of an inch and only the glint of his eyes return from the deep shadows of his hat, Yoruichi knows that he's obliged.

"... Mister Ichimaru was exposed to Aizen's reiatsu for a very long time. Not only his, but that of the Hogyoku.. And their combined form, as well, which I think merits a distinction. And seeing as how the actual Aizen is now both locked up and /fantastically/ unhelpful by personality... any other samples of the effect it has on a soul are.. ah. hm. Off limits."

"So an experiment." She offers. Was that so hard.

"Uncharitable. I could take offense to such a clinical explanation for saving another being-"

Yoruichi snorts. Charitable, she would not call Kisuke Urahara. Not the one she knew. But his insistence on a non-threatening appearance had always amused and been handy in equal measure.

"I’m waiting for an alternative.”

"Why, insurance!" He replies musically.

"Your insurance is more likely to injure you than the thing you're keeping it against."

At that, Urahara just smiles. Yoruichi didn't sound un-supportive. Far from it, though she tried to sound otherwise. Through her cautious, callous pawing around the edges, she was just as interested in what Urahara might do as he was in /doing/ it. It had always been this way. But it was her self-appointed job to at least sound like she hadn't already jumped onto the bandwagon with him. Call it part of the vetting process. Part of keeping them both safe.

That was what he was doing too. At least partly.

“Are you sure?” He asks. And then, after a pause,

“Are you willing to risk the alternative?”

A shiver runs up Yoruichi’s spine. Her gold eyes turn to slits. The exiled head of the Shihoin clan couldn't think of a better way to describe Ichimaru Gin, peacefully sedated and hooked up to a half-dozen life support machines, than a risk. The alternative Kisuke was talking about-- some unmarked day in the future where Mugen was no longer the air-tight private hell that it always had been-- that was supposed to be weighed against the immediate possibility that the strange, conditional goodwill they had earned for themselves over the course of Aizen’s betrayal and subsequent capture could be stripped away by sheltering a traitor less charming than the Visored, and useful to no one but, possibly, themselves. Possibly. If he didn’t kill them on a lark, or get them killed in any number of other ways.

"Besides...! With a one-of-a-kind material, one should take risks in acquisition!" Kisuke just had to add, damning any charitable interpretation of his schemes to the realm of wistful imagination.

Risks, risks. Risks indeed. Yoruichi’s face scrunches up- and then deflates, all at once. An enormous sigh escapes her.

“I just wish you’d tell me before you show up with more strays!”

#my writing #drabbles #bleach #i have no idea how to tag this <3

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darckcarnival · 2 years ago

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Get To Know The Mun!

> BASICS! ♡

NAME: Spoop, Splat, D, Darck (peeps usually call my my main muses names except Spoop, I am the spoopiest.)

PRONOUNS: Any! I merely exist.

ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius/Capricorn

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single but married to food.

> THREE FACTS! ♡

Have been writing since the 90's when I was a wee child. Did silly little roleplaying on mIRC, on some forums, and deviant art back in the day there after. Then became a fanfic writer for a while, followed by poems which I was quite good at back in the day. Then began making lyrics- figured nah, not for me. And flipped full circle back into roleplaying once more with some drabbles and maybe a one shot fic here and there. Have been writing ever since! So I have a LOT of history under my belt. And many of my muses have the same type of dedication and time behind them. Gotta put as much love into your character and writing, as if they were your own family. Make them feel alive.

Most art I do is either writing, 3D model modification items, or just with a mouse and keyboard art. I have been practicing more with a gifted tablet and pen, which has allowed me to do more detailed and serious mod work, such as mods for RE4 classic! But I am much better at texture, 3D, or coloring and shading. But heres the fun fact: i learned all my 3D and texture work skills through Second Life before anything else. And it's actually, funny enough, helped me bring muses to life as well as follow up on how to mod other games and go hog wild.

Been struck by lightning twice, fell down two different cliffs, hit by a semi truck, shot with a carbon arrow in the chest, stabbed, shot by bullet, and so on- and yet here I stand. Most of these events were completely accidental as well, and I walked away from. Honestly? I'm just a walking glitch in the matrix of the world, considering I also glitch every single god damn game I touch. THIS IS NOT A JOKE, NO MATTER HOW NEW IT IS, I BREAK IT.

> EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: AIM, Yahoo Messenger, DA chat, so many FORUM's back in the day. Skype, Discord, Tumblr.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: Geez, I can roll with just about anything. Plotting? Hell yeah count me in! Plots may not always follow the idea one hundred percent, but it absolutely makes for longer events and threads easily. Winging it? I do that all the damn time and can create so many unexpected events, as well as sudden character development. Twists and turns that just wing a rough idea into something wild. As for Memes and asks? Oh those can still form some really good interactions, character developments or knowledge acquiring moments. Sometimes these are one offs or long drabbles- but they can form into something longer and more serious. However, while I am down for all of the above-- I also have bad ADHD and writing can be hard, so it could take a while.

> MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I can write just about any gender character, manage things in between or none. However I am more comfortable with female centric style muses. And yet, you put large men in my hands, and watch them go hog fucking wild. And don't even get be started on Robots or Monsters.

MULTI OR SINGLE: I have done both, but usually prefer single muse blogs. And yet I absolutely love my megaman multimuse to death! All my robot children and heathens there, so much work in my own verse there. So many thoughts. But multimuse blogs can still be difficult to keep organized with so much going on in the braincell, and with life being as it is, need to take breaks from it.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): Not sure what this means for least favorite here, does it mean people, or genre? I really don't mind one way or another. Especially when it comes to OC's, it's hard to find anyone who fits just right for people. And honestly I do not mind one way or another for people. If it fits someones muse, that's fine by me.

> FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: THE GOOD SHIT HELL YEAH. I'm down for fluff so long as it isn't like... Hollow and forced. Fluff can be used as a great comfort option,. be it platonic, familial, friendly, or even romantic. Fluff can be used in so very many ways, and it's always an option withy me. But this can also turn into angst easily with my cursed hands, you have been warned. As well as comedic timing, since Darck needs to make a laugh to make herself comfortable. Darck has... problems.

ANGST: My bread and butter this one, much to the dismay of many of my friends who write with me. The muse on this blog is made of angst and pain and terrible events that have formed her into who she is. Angst can become violence, woe, heavy conversation, as well as venting- it's such a key part of development. There is a saying I quite enjoy: Muses are like geodes. Shiny, pretty, and in order to see what they are really made of, you must break them. I do admit however that I have a limit of how far I can go to a degree, with real life being a thing, but honestly? It takes a whole fucking lot to get there. And also maybe write angst too much and tragedy. Give this muse some better days.

SMUT: As much as I have enjoyed smut in the past, I haven't written such in a very long time, and am very careful of whom I write such with. Turns out I really good at smut according to others. And hey fun fact: People used to straight up pay me to write them smut of their characters and others of their choice. Haven't had that going in years but, it was a thing. However these days, writing smut with my muses needs to be more than just the event. It can be an opening for vulnerability, letting someone get close enough and trust them enough, that no one else really gets. Quiet and heavy conversations, the emotions involved. But if I ever do write it again, both my self and my partner need to be comfortable with writing such a thing. However if I ever did smut in a private drabble or fanfic, then all bets are off, because that's different. But far more rare.

Tagged by: @valour-bound

Tagging: You see this? IM TAGGING YOU. Do it.

#Out Of Coffins :: OOC #Mun Speaking Hours!#(( get to know the mun a little i guess ))#(( here is your local cryptid ))

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archive-doll · 3 months ago

Text

Little drabble about tiger!ghost thanks to you anon ♡

trigger warning for alcohol and cigarette consumption, inlove!ghost, scent kink, mention of body fluid (spit) during kisses ♡. Mention of self-harm in the past from his side. broken nose! The underlying smut is there, all in Ghost's mind. Gender-neutral reader! (wear some makeup)

He's so silly and cute, he's ready to throw himself on the ground for reader in a worshipping way.

Minor do not interact. Forgive my grammar. Enjoy.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

He's a deviant. Everybody carved that into him from an early age. Long before the scars, the self-hatred that made him hurt himself, the war that tainted his soul and shaped his body into an unsightly thing, the tip of his tail now missing. An oddity of life, biologically speaking. Hybrids are the laughingstock of society, even when they have the physical shape of a tank like he does. Round ears on top of his dirty blond hair, half a tail remaining, and golden strikes slithering along the edges of his frame.

He's frightening. Ghost is intimidating to most of the people he has ever met. His butchered face, blue veins that mix with the golden scars on his flesh, reminders of a dying man, it all caused the wide stares he receives on a day-to-day basis. He's a fucking monster. An atrocity.

But, here he is. Sitting down on the edge of some disgusting sidewalk covered with discarded chewing gum, broken glass, and smelling of piss. Mask pushed over his broken snout, some flimsy bandage over where the flesh broke apart under the sparring of the cartilage, a cigarette between his rigged teeth.

The most important, though, is the pretty delight by his side, a little bit intoxicated, who kneels in front of him. They're at a respectful distance he can concede, but with the brightest smile he's ever seen. Like they simply came to admire the stray cat in the alley.

Ghost is blinded for an instant, ashes falling from the tip of his cigarette between his spread thighs, eyes hurting from the vision that they are. Soft and beautiful babe with some acne on their cheeks he wants to kiss and shiny makeup painting their eyelids.

And they're talking. To him. They are talking to him, looking at him, a little bag dangling between their fingers. And yes, their words are a little slurred, and their eyes are a little dazed. But they're breathtaking. Simon has half the mind to look around to see if there is anyone here, but he knows they are alone. He can hear the gentle thrumming of their heart.

Anyone sees him and leaves. It's all that ever happened in his fucked up life. With the exemption of Johnny, the highland cattle buff who isn't scared of anything, no one ever sees him in the darkness and closes the distance. But they did.

They do.

"Your ears are very pretty," they say with a little giggle, and he can feel the blood rushing in his skull at the sudden praise. "So colorful!" There are stars in their eye as they coo his way. Or maybe it's the bad lighting that makes them shine, but Ghost has half the mind to make a wish upon them.

He tries to talk, after a moment where you simply gaze at him with something akin to tenderness of all things, but no word comes upon him. His mind is blank with your melted butter scent, swirling with cooked apple, and his tail salutes in attention with the desire to lick it from the source.

"Oh! Uh, you forgot this earlier," they seem to remember, doughy chin tilting down as their precious hands shift and turn into their minuscule bag before tugging something of it.

It's his wallet. Ghost must be out of his mind, half dying from lack of sleep to forget it behind. Ghost never forgets.

"Do you not want it?" There it is. A little shyness there, a slight curl of their plushy lips he wants to lick their spit from. He's starting to feel territorial now. Thinking about how their scent would change when he drags his teeth along the arch of their spine. Would they flail and tremble?

His cigarette is forgotten on the ground, still burning when he grasps at the wallet. All of the training he received in the military keeps his hand from reaching for them. But his hands shake.

Ghost never shakes. Never waver. A simple smile from you and everything he knows, all that he believes in, is shattered.

"Oh, um. I left my number in there. Call me, maybe? Bye-bye!"

He watches them leave, that little sway of their hand making his heart beat again in his ribcage, mind empty. The air shifts behind him, and his eyes blink. Once. Twice. Before, with a snap of his wrist, he snatches his tail with half the intention of breaking it off.

It makes them giggle, though. The voices are quiet as his claws dig into the tar when he raises to his feet.

"Lil' bird. Ya hav' to drink some wat'r," he grumbles as he stalks behind them, ready to coddle them into his bed.

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abyssmalice · 2 years ago

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drabble: the color of brittle bones

They call you precocious and sweet and young and simple and all the things that children are called, when they're polite and smiling all by themselves in a corner. It's an act that could last forever, if you so deem it.

And what an actor you're determined to be today. You're polite as you shake their hand and smile with pearly teeth showing, a small gap between the frontmost two that makes you look a little silly and cute—before you bite. Grip tightening, unrelenting, as your eyes curve in a way that it seems all so genteel and a giant mistake in one.

"Oh, I recognize you," you say, bright and airy and cheerful, and every attendee turns because you? You, bright and airy and cheerful? "You're that person who's running that trafficking circle, right?"

The room goes several degrees colder. Their hand, still holding yours, is starting to clamp up with nervousness and icky sweat and by the gods, good that you wear gloves—

"I've heard soooo much about you, really! Business has been going really well lately, hasn't it? Of course, illegal things will always have a market somewhere, but everyone with a brain will think the same. Competition's rough, I hear. So all the more amazing that you've been doing so well! I hear it's all because of your decision to change from substances to people, specifically!"

Smile. Teeth bared like a monster, like a lion for the catch, and everyone else averts their eyes from the carnage to come.

A predictable show. Sometimes fun, sometimes boring.

You laugh, a startling chime in the silence, as they frantically look around for something, someone, anything -

"Huh, what are you doing?" Your fingers dig hard into their skin. "What are you doing. Oh, and I'm not talking about how stupid you look right now. You have the brains to run such a large business within the very borders of our dear homeland - I'm sure you know very well what I'm asking."

A giggle.

The party doesn't last for very long after that.

"Did you really have to cause a scene like that?"

Arlecchino sighs as she quickly reviews some documents. You snort and roll onto your side, enjoying the luxury feel of the cushioned sofa. Your fellow Harbinger is a piece of shit in the ways that matter - which is a description that applies for all of them, really - but she sure does have a taste to rival Pantalone's.

"Not my fault a person like that was invited to this stupid little gala. A gala that, by the way, you were partly in charge of." You grab one of the velvet pillows, squishing it into a funny shape. "No idea if you looked at the guest list at any point, but in any case, whoever dealt with that - all their fault, don't you think?"

"Don't play cute, Tartaglia." The woman sets the papers down, frowning with thinly-veiled disdain. "This event was to secure support and funding from businesses with connections that could easily be tapped into for the Fatui's purposes. That disgusting fool may have been running a business of the most immoral character, but the places they can go with it is indisputable."

"So, what? We leverage that and ignore the rest of it?" You hiss, "You're mad."

"We leverage it, and ensure it becomes fit for our needs. A little cleanup is a reasonable expense for the rewards."

"And how long will that take? And you think people will just forget what it used to be?"

She scoffs, before her tone takes what you can only call a faux gentleness. "You only linger on this because you're still young. The Fatui is certainly questionable - but we do our best to make things right, in a world that is just as horribly questionable. Reformation is the way—not indiscriminate rejection."

Says you. Just who, I wonder, is making the world so horrible and questionable in the first place, huh?

You don't say that, knowing the other Harbinger will just pull up some well-worn defense of her work. The children, and all that crap. Instead, you burn the question into her face, glaring at her forehead for a quiet moment.

Arlecchino doesn't care or realize or want to humor you regardless, sorting some of the papers into a few piles - probably the merchant contacts from the event, evaluating what's worthwhile and what can't be pursued anymore, because of your antics - before she rises from her seat.

She eyes you, unimpressed. "You have your own room. Go take a nap there."

"No. This sofa feels nice."

"I will be having guests soon."

"No."

"Tonia."

You narrow your eyes at her, over the rim of the pillow. "You're not my mother. And I'm not one of your 'children'. That tone would work on them but like hell will it work on me."

"What a pity," she replies, almost disaffected. "You clearly require some discipline. While I would not question the Tsaritsa at any point, her parenting choices for you are downright horrendous in times like these."

It's bait and you know it. Such obvious, terrible, annoying bait. You make a half-aborted growl in the back of the throat before you pull yourself to a seated position, throwing the pillow right at her head in the next moment. Despite the speed and force of your throw, it's easy for her to dodge it.

"And what a pity," you harshly bite out as you get to your feet, "that your brain is filled with nothing but rotten pudding, if you think the old hag is in any way like some sort of parent to me."

"You certainly don't think so. And I agree, the Tsaritsa shouldn't." She folds her arms, watching you round around the sofa to take your grumpy leave. "But unfortunately, it can't be denied that Her Majesty does care about you like a guardian would."

"Well she can take her stupid care and stuff it." You open the door, pausing only just to look over your shoulder and stick your tongue out at the Harbinger. Utterly juvenile, and you don't stick around any longer to see what else Arlecchino reacts with besides a bland sigh.

You slam the door loudly behind you, feeling a frown creep deeper and deeper into the skin of your face, before you head off. Time to find something more fun and relaxing to do, or be.

#(me rotating the rotesserie chicken called toni in the microwave of my brain: ''idk what im doing but this is my brain blorbo atm'')#drabble | (the heart speaks and the soul remembers);#queue | (the rivers of irminsul);

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sevenciircles · 2 years ago

Text

A Cowgirl Thing

a millie & z0ra drabble,,, since I am obsessed with both of them currently. its a silly lil crossover

She breezed confidently through the wood, as if she were the very wind itself. The moon overhead gave her the perfect amount of light to chase her prey. Not that it would ever escape her, but what was fun about outright just killing someone? No, she loved the thrill of the chase. The challenge. She craved it. Everything was just so easy for her, easy for everyone, nobody came near her level. It was boring.

And Zora detested being bored.

But these gigs made her life exciting, when there wasn't anything to do with Bliss Ocean. The money didn't hurt, but the real reason she bounty hunted was the energy of it all. There was something about a good ol' fashioned jaunt that just got her blood worked up. She was in her element, and Zora relished it.

A small part of her was even hopeful, despite how unlikely it was, that she'd get a proper fight. For once, someone would meet her head on and give her a run for her money. It never happened, she was simply too strong in a world where things where nobody had to work for anything anymore. People were naturally gifted.

However, that stubborn hope still lingered on deep inside her. Zora didn't have the heart or desire to effectively purge it.

Her client was a typical one, business man who had too much money and too much of a violent streak. But didn't want to get his own hands dirty so he came to her. Zora was given the total low down on her target. A former business partner screwed him out of a deal. Apparently it was big bucks to warrant him to hire her to sign the death certificate in his blood.

It didn't matter really, he got his pound of flesh and she got her money and chase.

Everyone was a victor, in the end. Except for the target, but well, someone had to lose.

"Come out, little rabbit.~" Zora taunted, her sing song tone carrying through the woods.

The footsteps she had been tracking hurried off West, as she expected. She knew this wood better than anyone, and knew prey behavior enough to know where he was going.

Zora grinned, knowing her target was running out of steam. The chase was starting to wind down, which means that it was time to collect her bounty.

"I found you-" Zora jumped out, but instead of meeting a shaking target, she saw something else jump out at the same time as her.

The target fell to the ground, becoming soaked in mud and the thing leapt up and dove onto the target, bringing a knife up to his neck. Zora watched with wide eyes as the creature pressed the knife deeper into his neck.

She eyed the... thing in front of her. Once Zora got over her initial shock, she was able to see a small, red woman with horns and a tail. She looked like something straight outta Hell. Then, Zora found herself looking at her body, and that cute little beauty mark...

Zora then suddenly found herself internally awing over the cute monster, finding herself oddly attracted to the little demon. The way she had a bloodthirsty grin on her face and had her face streaked with mud only sweetened it.

However, she wasn't distracted enough to let this cute little beast get away with her target.

"Hey now! What's all the fuss happenin' around here?" Zora said, her eyes cheerful and her tone light. But she had her gun aimed on the little creature.

To the creature's credit, she turned and Zora found herself looking into glowing yellow eyes with red pupils. Dramatic eyeliner. The creature also didn't balk, but she did drop the target.

"You tell me," Came the quick response, and Zora found herself charmed at the country accent. It was like her own, and that instantly endeared her to Zora. However, she wouldn't let mere feelings stop her.

"Well it seems like some...thing is tryin' to collect on one of my bounties. And I don't much appreciate that." Zora commented, her tone still friendly.

"Woah, what are ya talkin' about? Our client hired me to take this piece of shit out. So that's what I'm doin'." The creature responded, and Zora raised an eyebrow.

There had to be a mistake. There is no way her client would ask for someone else to off this guy. Especially if they paid her fee and sought her out. Zora was the best, the fact that he might have thought she was insufficient was a bit anger inducing.

"Yeah. Sure. He came to you because I'm so bad at my job." Zora said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well you haven't killed him yet have you? Didn't even hear me trackin' your prey." The red figure put a hand on her hip, looking at Zora annoyed.

Okay, this was getting annoying.

"Listen here, why don't you just scurry on back to wherever you came from and I'll forget about this." Zora said, giving the creature an out. At the same time, she raised her pistol. Pointing the gun squarely at the creature's forehead.

This was where Zora was expecting the encounter to end. With this odd little lady turning tail and fleeing. However, that wasn't what happened. Instead, the little creature stepped forward. She raised a knife, literally bringing a knife to a gun fight.

Zora would have laughed at the absurdity, but the glare that the creature was giving her made her want to coo instead. It was kinda hot.

"How 'bout you fuck off and let me kill this bitch? You can tell your client or whatever that he scurried away. And then I'll forget this ever happened." Came the retort, and Zora forgot how cute the creature was in favor of her temper flaring.

"I tried bein' nice, pipsqueak. I'm gonna get real nasty if you don't fuck off." Zora growled, stepping forward. She used her great height to tower over the creature, but the creature merely stepped closer. Looking unabashed.

"Bring it on! You think I'm scared of bullets? Why don't you take a shot and see what happens? I think your spine would look great as a necklace." The creature hissed out, and Zora found herself feeling an odd mixture of arousal and fury.

"I'll let you get away with one more threat before I-"

"Before you what? Whistle some more tunes and call 'Millie' in a tauntin' voice? Yeah, I'm shakin' in my boots." The creature, who she now knew as Millie, snarled. Zora found the name oddly suited the weird little thing.

"Then let's fucking go! Mano a mano, who needs weapons?" Zora said, putting away her pistol as Millie tucked away her knife. Zora noticed she coiled up, about to pounce when she noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye.

Her prey was trying to escape!

"STAY THE FUCK THERE!" Zora and Millie yelled together, their voices forming a hellish cacophony.

That caused them both to look at each other, and Zora saw Millie looking shocked. She found herself a little surprised.

Had she really allowed Millie to distract her so much? There was something about how Millie held herself, conducted herself, and had an obvious blood lust that intrigued her. Plus that mud really did something...

Zora took out her pistol again and shot the target in the kneecaps, and he fell crying out. Zora turned to Millie, who took out her knife. A little grin appeared on her red face, and she waltzed over and stabbed the target through the shoulder blade to further pin him down.

They looked at each other across the clearing, and Zora looked down at her gun, before chuckling and putting it away.

"I ain't gonna kill ya. Been a while since someone stood up to me like that." Zora said, an easy smile appearing on her face.

"Same, I had to admit I got distracted myself. So much so that the target almost got away. She wouldn't have been happy." Millie giggled. "Fucker screwed her over badly. She came to Hell filled with a rage that's rare for sinners."

Zora didn't catch some of that sentence, but something did stand out to her. Not the fact that Millie was from Hell, that didn't surprise her. But the pronoun.

Because her client was a very, very misogynistic man.

"Wait, did you say 'she'? The client is a man." Zora tried to clarify, and she saw that Millie's brows furrowed. Again, adorable.

"Because she's a she? He cheated on her then left her in a dangerous part of town, leadin' her to get killed." Millie said, like she was stating the obvious.

A lightbulb practically appeared over Zora's head, and she laughed at the situation.

"Oh- oh man! We almost got into a brawl over this bag of dicks because of a misunderstandin'! Turns out this guy had two people who wanted to see him dead. So they paid us." Zora said, and Millie began laughing too.

A bright grin was now present on Millie's face, and she kicked the guy while he was down. Literally.

They both continued to ignore the pained groans.

"Listen, I'd really love to just let you have at it, but my client wants proof." Millie said, her tone a bit more toned down. It reminded Zora a detail she had almost forgotten too.

"Oh yeah, so does mine. He wants his head." Zora was not all that thrilled about lugging around a head, but she'd do it. He'd paid the extra fee.

Millie's smile then turned a bit more sly, and Zora didn't know what was going through her head.

The thought excited her.

"My client wants a different head." The inflection in her voice made no mystery of what proof was required.

Zora let out a cackle, belly laughing. It had been a while since something had made her laugh that hard.

"Well, this works out nicely. Why don't we kill him together? You'll stab his stomach and I'll shoot his body until he stops breathin'? Then we cut the shit off, and bury the body. Diggin'll go faster with the two of us." Zora proposed, and Millie nodded.

It was an odd arrangement, but this was an odd situation. Plus, she kinda wanted to get to know Millie more.

And get to know she did.

She found out the imp was from Hell, and worked for an assassination company. And that she was quite the hellion. Their kill counts were almost equal, and they exchanged stories. Zora hadn't had someone relate to her like this in so long. Millie didn't judge her for her habits, she had the same ones!

Plus, as the moon climbed higher and illuminated the bloodstains on Millie's face, she only grew more attractive as Zora chatted with the bloodthirsty imp.

Eventually, the soil was patted down and their bags were secure with their trophies.

Millie stood in front of Zora, no longer tense and with a grin on her face.

"If we ever meet again, we should mud wrestle! I'd love to fight you." Millie said, her tone bubbly.

"Likewise." Zora felt the same. From what she saw of Millie and heard, she believed her. It would be a great challenge, a fun activity. She found herself already missing the imp and she hadn't even gone yet.

"Well, I gotta run. My boss is openin' the portal now."

Sure enough, a purple glowing circle opened up. Zora peeked in and saw an office with a few different imps. They were waving at her, and Millie put one foot through the portal.

"Bye Zora!" She said, and Zora returned her goodbye and the portal closed.

Standing next to the grave, Zora noticed that Millie had left her knife. Picking it up, Zora examined the blood on it. It had personality, just like the little imp.

Zora pocketed it, vowing to return it.

When they met again. Zora would do everything in her power to meet Millie again.

It had been so long since she had a challenge, someone on her wavelength. Someone who got her.

As she headed off into the distance, whistling a tune, one thought appeared in her mind.

She wasn't going to let Millie get away from her that easy.

#ooc.#tough girl is what i had to be. ~ millie #guest star: zora #i wrote this for myself and myself only

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zlebooks · 2 years ago

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𓂃 xiao + stupid in love .

part two of sorts to this drabble !! this can be read alone, i only wrote this bc some wanted to see y/n and xiao getting together 🫶🫶🫶

xiao knew he was smart.

he maintains his grades in the top percentile of his class. and even though he rarely participates in recitations, he makes up for it with his excellent written outputs.

he's knowledgeable— he can recite the whole process of mitosis and meiosis on the top of his head. his analytic essays on poems and short stories are always returned with a 'great job!' written on red.

xiao knows a lot of things, but this doesn't mean he's aware of everything.

xiao at 13, did not know kazuha beat up some kids on his behalf. the mean kids had been talking bad about xiao behind his back, and the blond happened to be walking by and couldn't resist connecting his fist to their jaws.

the day after those events, when xiao quizzed the other for his bruised eye, kazuha only shrugs as he says he got it from falling down the stairs.

("your house doesn't have stairs."

"i wasn't in my house, silly. i fell down at your house after doing it with your mom."

"get the fuck away.")

xiao at 14 had no clue that zhongli, his upperclassman whom he looks up to the most, sees him as his little brother.

during lunch, zhongli would always drop by at his favorite underclassman's classroom to give him a fruit— it's always high in vitamin c but xiao always receives a different one each day.

the taller noticed how frequent xiao attends their club meetings with either a cold or a cough. being a concerned senior he is, he starts purchasing fruits potent in vitamin c on the way to school to give it to the younger during lunch breaks.

("your face is so sour that even zhongli decided to give you a lemon." a certain blond friend says.

"it. isn't. sour. at. all." xiao says in between bites as he tries to remain poker faced the entire time.

"you're a monster.")

xiao at 15 had no idea who's been feeding the stray cat other than him.

contrary to popular opinion, cats aren't afraid of the green-haired boy. he actually seemed to be a magnet for them— threatening his 'i'm intimidating, back off' persona every once in a while as a bunch of cats follow him.

he met a certain black cat on the streets one day, and every other day, he comes to its spot just to feed it.

however, on a particular afternoon, when he arrives at the riverside to give the black cat some food, he notices an opened canned tuna laying around, and a cat heavily invested in gobbling it up.

he shrugs, before laying down water beside it so the black cat can also get its share of drink.

it doesn't matter who's feeding the friend he had made— as long as the little stray gets fed, he's absolutely fine with it.

(a particular senior who is allergic to beans coos when he learns that xiao has been feeding the cat alongside him.)

xiao at 16, has no clue why he has a bad case of indigestion.

he makes sure he never over eats, or eats too fast. and even with his mother's homemade tonic, his stomach keeps on juggling uncomfortably.

for a while, he thought that the problem might be from the pork buns he buys on the way to school, but when he notices it only appears whenever you're around, he thinks it's because he doesn't like you.

his alleged dislike turns into something stronger– hate, perhaps. the funny feeling in his stomach seems to never go away, and now he feels hotter than ever, his temperature heating up as his thoughts are always plagued by you.

this becomes a problem eventually— a huge one that he had to ask around what he can do in order to keep such an ill feeling on the down low. after all, while he might not like you, he still doesn't want to hurt your feelings, oddly enough. the problem starts to become even bigger, especially now that you two are seatmates. ever since the release of the new seat assignments, which inevitably puts you beside him, the symptoms start to worsen for xiao.

("is it necessary to feel this way when you hate someone?"

"what do you mean exactly?" a kind senior asks, his golden eyes shining brightly in contrast with their uniform's black vest.

"i can barely focus when they're around— i'm always at loss for words whenever we talk." xiao replies, muttering low as he puts his head on top of his fist.

zhongli widens his eyes in shock, but then he reverts to his usual self before the younger catches on. "perhaps you need to reevaluate your feelings; there is a possibility that you mistook such feelings for hate."

the younger shakes his head firmly, "that can't be. i'm pretty sure it's hate."

"are you sure of that, xiao? hate is a strong word." he asks in his rich deep voice and xiao affirms.

zhongli silently hums as he takes a sip from his water bottle. no matter the outcome, this can be a learning experience from his underclassman. xiao is indeed smart— he's sure that the younger would figure it out on his own.)

(when zhongli recounts the events to a close friend of his, he earns a smack on the back of his head.

"why did you leave things at that, idiot!" a thin frail white-haired woman yells, but her appearance is an illusion as the weight of her hand feels like a ton of bricks being slammed against his head.)

xiao at 17, didn't know better than to approach his best friend of four years for advice.

"how do you know if you like someone?" he remembers asking and the relentless teasing that followed.

maybe he should have known better, really. xiao ponders as kazuha lists off the signs of catching feelings for someone.

"don't forget about the butterflies in the stomach! it's what makes you shy."

xiao tsks, as if— he never gets shy.

although the moment you went close— too close— to him, he feels like he could have erupted like a volcano.

(kazuha hollers, "how'd you turn so red when y/n came up to you?" the blond wipes tears from his eyes. "you literally have it bad for them!"

"if you don't stop, i'm not the only one who's going to be red." xiao threatens, holding the plastic knife a little too tight.)

6 months later, xiao didn't know what to do when you suddenly confessed your feelings to him.

he feels as if his feet attached itself to the ground; he could barely move, he can't even bring himself to breathe.

"i like you."

you tell him out of nowhere while the two of you were left behind in the classroom to clean— he was sweeping the floor while you arranged the chairs. from the other side of the room, you suddenly get the urge to confess which left the other gaping. this alone becomes a huge achievement because xiao never gapes.

xiao thinks you should be charged with attempted murder.

he thinks with the way you took away his breath and almost sent him into a cardiac arrest, you should be sent to jail. but then he disagrees with that thought— because how will he deal with his feelings without you?

for the first time in his entire life, xiao thinks he finally understands what kazuha meant by 'butterflies in the stomach.' because as he stares at your expectant eyes and upturned lips, he thinks he just felt a flap against the walls of his tummy.

and what his friend said to him came into fruition— he realizes what they meant.

he likes you back.

xiao was never one for theatrics and yet he can't help but drop the broom he's holding dramatically before running over to you.

coughing awkwardly and taking deep breaths he says, "i do too."

xiao thinks he knows everything now.

("really? 'i do too'? you do know you sounded like you're saying you liked yourself too, right?" a kaedehara descent teases, earning a tug on his hair.

"shut. up.")

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

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lychniis · 2 years ago

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# ― GLAZE LILIES

please note that all works marked with ( .m ) are rated 18 + !! minors, do not interact!

― SERIES

✧ — memory ( as you slip away ) [ zhongli | rex lapis ] .m in progress …

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | angst | hurt / no comfort ) you were a god birthed off of the hope and wish of a mortal, doomed to be forgotten and fade from existence in the hands of a cruel curse. your travels through teyvat brings you to liyue harbor, with the last wish of a young follower resting on your shoulders. and there, perhaps by a wicked twist of fate, you meet the eyes of rex lapis himself.

― ONESHOTS

✧ — we are made of fucking stardust [ diluc ragnvindr ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | humor | crack ) diluc adored you and every little thing about you. but sometimes, he really wants his sleep…only, you seem to insist on keeping him awake at night ( or, no matter how annoying he found it, diluc always made time to listen to you ).

✧ — nothing here ( to run from ) [ zhongli | rex lapis ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | hurt / comfort ) zhongli finds you alone on his way to your house. the sight shouldn’t be startling, he thinks, but on a day like this, one to be celebrated and cherished, he finds himself keeping you company.

✧ — look me in the eye ( as bedrock turns to dust ) [ zhongli | rex lapis ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | comfort ) there were stories in your village ; tales of the geo archon and his gaze of stone, of the statues that dotted guyun stone forest and how all of them sharing the faces of his fallen enemies. you, however, could care no less. for how could you look into a pair of eyes you couldn’t see?

✧ — a thousand more tomorrows [ zhongli | rex lapis ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | angst | comfort ) you wander with a void in your chest where your memories should be, between what was familiar and unfamiliar. he waits for you, through the passing centuries with his longing and his patience. and when you two meet, there is completion and there is warmth once more.

✧ — and here the monsters dance [ childe | tartaglia ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | angst | comfort ) the ballroom traps you in its wake and you stand here, a raven amongst doves. soldiers do not stand amidst the beautiful, but then there is a hand, and a gentle touch and for a moment, you feel less alone ( or in which, you, a bonafide murderer dances with another bonafide murderer ).

― HEADCANONS && DRABBLES

✧ — yaksha headcanons [ xiao | alatus ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | humor ) xiao ’s family was always a strange one…no strange probably doesn’t cut it. but they were close and they were loyal and they had each others backs.

✧ — genshin men as cat breeds [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff ) tired cat mom talks about genshin men as cat breeds ( and basically as cats as a whole ).

✧ — i breathe in ( and all i feel is love ) [ various genshin men ] .m

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | comfort ) it always starts with trust — touching them — and it’s mystifying in a way witnessing them in a state so vulnerable. but as you hold their hearts in your hand, you come to realize the weight of what you carried; it was something so simple yet so beautiful; a gift shared between the two of you behind those closed doors and under the sheets ( or, your first time with them takes an emotional / soft turn ).

✧ — sortes qui facit [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff ) night is the time for the monsters to step out, or so the stories say. your partner and you share small smiles over tabletop gossips like these, a quiet joke shared between just the two of you. now if only people knew of the fangs behind that smile of his ( or, your partner is a monster and routines get weird )..

✧ — why do i love you again? [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( crack ) you love your significant other ; really, you do. sometimes you just want to squish their face and kiss them silly because they're just that awesome. on others? well, given the fact that they're either lowkey or highkey weird...you find yourself questioning your taste in lovers...

✧ — time for some shuteye [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( crack ) you walk into them sleeping and it's a whole mood from there ( aka ; some napping headcanons because we love some domesticity amidst the pain and suffering of my works ).

✧ — i am the ghost you buried away [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( angst | hurt | comfort ) and when you look them in the eye, you let yourself crumble and see the loneliness underneath it all. such was the curse of a godless child, of one marked by the stars, of one whose home no longer stands. and they could only hold up their own charades for so long (or in which, they fall for a survivor of khaenri'ah ).

✧ — i pine for your laughter [ various genshin men ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff ) there were moments of warmth and softness. you might be crazy saying this, but you might be more than a little in love with them. ( submission for the genshin impact white day event ).

✧ — you took the gods ( and made them human ) [ various genshin ]

` !! synopsis : ( fluff | comfort ) in the end, the gods were the gods and humans were human. but what is dichotomy without it's shades of grey, and what were gods without the humanity that lingers in their hearts?

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 2 years ago

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The Demon Prince - Demon!Shin Tsukinami x Reader Part 1 of 3

Part 1 of my monster of a fic is finally here! This is set in the same universe as the short drabble I wrote where Carla is a classic fantasy Demon Lord, although you don’t need to read that for this to make sense. If you would prefer to read this fic on AO3 then you can find it here. An enormous thank you to my wonderful friend @akumacaron for betaing.

Trigger warnings include heavy descriptions of gore and body horror. This, and the subsequent chapters, are definitely some of the darker things I’ve written for this blog so please take care.

Part 1: The Deal

Even growing up in a village far from the shadows of the towering Obsidian Citadel—home of the infamous Demon Lord and those dedicated to his service—you still heard the stories of him and his kind. Some were meant to serve as moral tales or warnings, like those that described the peasants and rich lords who were foolish and greedy enough to make a deal with a demon, only to lose their souls when they were inevitably tricked or cheated—doomed to spend the rest of eternity having the core of their existence eaten away and burned in the acid of a demon’s stomach—the worst fate anyone could meet.

Those ones, you suspected, were more than a little fantastical, something to teach children and fools not to make silly deals with the very real crooks that could be found scattered about the land. The other stories however—the ones about demons bringing violence and death wherever they went—were numerous enough that you were sure there was some semblance of truth in them. Not that you had ever really taken any of it too seriously; your village was miles from any city with nothing particularly special or remarkable about it that might draw attention from the Demon Lord and his ilk. No, no matter how gruesome the stories you and other village children liked to regale each other with growing up—all some variation of one heard from a traveller stopping by the market or the inn, or so you all used to say—you never truly feared the monsters that roamed the rest of the continent, not when there was nothing to bring them to your door.

That was based, however, on the assumption that demons followed things like human logic and reason. You were an adult by the time you finally realized that might not be the case.

The sky suddenly turned dark at midday and the usual melody of birdsong that filled the air went quiet, along with all of the other wild things. You stood there, nearly at the edge of the boundaries of the village, on your way to pick some of the herbs that grew by the meadow before you returned home, a small basket already full of produce from the market on your arm.

The air was entirely too still, to the point you were certain you’d be able to hear the beat of an insect’s wing—if the insects hadn’t already vanished, like they’d been snatched clean from the air. Was a storm about to start perhaps? It seemed a little early in the year for it, but you couldn’t think of another reason for everything to go to ground.

Then you heard the screaming.

You dropped your basket, leaving it forgotten in the dirt as you ran towards the pitched cries—something in you urging you to help whoever was in trouble, even as every animal instinct you possessed shrieked at you to run and hide and not look back.

The scene you stumbled onto was one you knew would remain burned into you as soon as you laid eyes upon it. The ground was dark, so much so you might have thought it covered in a puddle of spilled ink, were it not for the faint red gleam picked out by the yellowing flame of a fallen torch. That, and the fact it was littered with bodies.

The lucky ones were clean cut, a neat slash across the throat, a dark stain on the fabric of their tunics right where their hearts should be. You could recognise some of them—the farmer who tended to the flocks out this way, along with his wife and children; the old weaver who, many years ago, had let you try your hand at her loom even though you had no talent for it—all left staring at the dark sky with glassy eyes and sallow skin.

But it was the other bodies that had bile forcing its way up your throat—the ones that looked like they’d been ripped apart by a wild beast, organs you only recognised from trips past the butchers put on grim display.

You would have collapsed to your knees had it not been for the figure standing in the centre of the macabre scene—the one who’s presence alone had you sure that if you made the slightest movement to draw his attention, then you’d join the bodies littering the ground.

He was not especially tall or muscled, you noted, as your eyes travelled up, from the ragged tips of his cloak, over trousers made of dark fabric—a sharp contrast to the wicked looking silver blades belted around his hips—up to a pale, blood-splattered face. But there was no way you could mistake him for anything other than a full-blooded demon, not with the dark horns rising from his forehead, like an onyx crown decorating his cropped red blonde hair. The tips of too long canines were just visible beneath his lips as he grinned at the carnage surrounding him.

He used his thumb to wipe some of the blood from his cheek, giving you a glimpse of the black, claw-like nails on the ends of his fingers, some decorated with strange, sharp silver rings. One of his eyes was obscured by a black leather eyepatch, symbols that screamed demonic scrawled across it. The other was a brilliant gold, so bright against the dark sky it almost appeared to glow.

And it was looking straight at you.

“Hah,” the demon sighed, forked tongue licking some of the blood from his lips. “How dull. I thought if I came all the way out here I might finally find a human who could put up some sort of a challenge, but—” he stepped on the head of the body lying directly in front of him—a young man around your own age who you recognised as the weaver’s grandson—and the skull gave away with a sickening crack accompanied by a loud squelch ”—it seems you’re nothing but a bunch of weak old farmers. What a bust.”

A movement at his side drew your attention and you finally took notice of the sword in his right hand. It was an awful looking thing—much larger than any of the weapons you’d seen perched at the hips of the knights and mercenaries who’d sometimes pass through the village—the dark metal of the blade covered in jagged edges that looked more fit for shredding one's opponents than anything else.

The demon lifted the sword as he fully turned towards you. “Ah well, I guess I might as well make the most of it now that I’m here. It’s not like my brother will complain if I wipe some human village in the middle of nowhere off the map.”

He took a single step towards you and images of your life meeting its end on that terrible sword flashed before your eyes. It was only your fear of a gruesome death that gave you the courage to cry out.

“Wait!”

The demon did not wait, but he did speak as he took another step towards you.

“If you think a lone human with nothing to offer can talk me into sparing this village, then you’re dead wrong.” Another step, you felt your throat start to close up. “Although I guess if you beg and cry hard enough—” he took one more step forward, lifting the blade in his hand so it rested against the base of your chin, the tip just brushing your neck “—then maybe I’ll consider sparing you. Maybe that is.” He let out a cruel laugh and it was an effort not to shake as you felt the cool metal of the sword press into your skin.

One wrong word and you were quite certain he’d kill you.

You needed a plan—something, anything, to keep him from plunging that blade through your neck and severing your head from your shoulders. An idea prickled in the back of your mind. It was a terrible idea, perhaps the worst you'd ever had—based on those stories that up until now you’d been happy to write off as more fiction than fact—but it might be the only shot you had at not joining the bodies on the ground.

“Y-You’re right. This is a quiet village and there isn’t anyone here who can put up any real sort of fight against you. But, what if there was a way to make it more interesting?” you said, mouth dry.

The demon tilted his head and narrowed his lone eye as he examined you, as though taking a moment to debate whether he should bother listening to you. After a tense pause, he finally spoke, “Go on, although if you come out with something boring, I’ll rip your tongue out before slitting your throat, understand?”

You swallowed, the action letting you feel more of the blade pressed against your neck. It was a gamble, what you were about to do, a gamble that nearly every story you’d ever been told had tried to warn you against—but you were apparently far more foolish than any peasant or rich lord.

“There’s no way I could beat you in a fight, but what if I made a deal with you—one that involved some sort of game that at least let me stand something of a chance, and if I lose—” you steeled yourself and took a breath “—you don’t just get my life, but my soul.”

For a moment the demon didn’t move, and you cursed yourself for ever believing something as ridiculous as the idea of creatures eating souls, but then you felt his grip on the sword slacken slightly and a look of hunger passed over his face. And you knew, that no matter how foolish of an idea it might have been, you at least had his attention.

He smirked at you, the corner of his lips twisting upwards, revealing the points of his canines. “You know, I’m not sure if you’re brave or just really stupid. Do you know what happens if a demon gets their hands on your soul? Or are you so isolated in this backwater that you don’t even understand what it is you’re offering?”

“I know,” you told him. “They say that if a demon eats your soul, then you’re left to rot in their stomach and experience the worst pain imaginable as long as that demon continues to walk the earth.”

The demon chuckled at that. “Oh it’s far worse than anything you could imagine, in fact listening to a human’s cries as they finally realise what they were dumb enough to agree to is the best bit.”

You forced yourself to make a brave face, even as your fingers trembled at your side. “Then I guess that means you don’t find people who are willing to make deals with you very often.”

“Oh you’d be surprised to know just how foolish some of your kind can be,” he replied, twisting his blade so the sharp edge was touching your chin, a hair’s breadth from slicing it open. “Although I’ll admit it’s been a while since I’ve had a good meal myself.”

“So you’ll agree to it then,” you said, a little too hurriedly, partly out of the fear he’d lose interest and partly because you didn’t know how long you had before some of the other villagers made their way here. If they interfered or distracted him, then all your courage would have been for nought.

“Heh, are you really that keen to get devoured by me? Well, I guess it’s not everyday you meet a full-blooded demon. Alright then human, tell me exactly what it is you think you have a chance of besting me at?”

“It’s simple,” you said, praying your suggestion was one he’d agree to—if it wasn’t you were as good as dead. “I want to have a contest in the woods that lie to the east of the village. We’ll enter the woods from opposite sides and if I can successfully evade you from midnight to when the first rays of dawn are visible on the horizon, then I win. If you catch me before the contest is over, then you get my soul and can do whatever you want with the rest of the village, but you can’t harm anyone until then.”

He stared at you for a moment before tipping his head back and letting out a loud laugh—one that sounded like the cackling of crows come to feast on carrion. “And there I was thinking other humans were foolish, hah! If you seriously think I’ll even need that long to hunt you down then you must be taking me incredibly lightly, if you weren’t offering me such an easy meal—” he dragged the blade across the base of your chin and you winced at the sting of it “—I’d shred you to pieces for insulting me. Alright, I’ll agree to your stupid idea of a deal, but in order for it to work, even if there’s no way it’ll happen, you have to tell me what you want out of it if you win.”

You thought for a moment. All you really wanted was for your friends and family to be safe from the monster before you, but it felt like a foolish thing to gamble your soul on—especially when in the few stories where the human did win, the demon had normally used some sort of wordplay to trick them so they’d ended up with some horribly warped version of the reward they were owed.

Apparently you took too long mulling it over, as the demon lowered his sword and stepped towards you, roughly taking hold of your chin with claw-tipped fingers, his skin horribly cold against your own.

“Don’t tell me you hadn’t even thought it over properly? You know, I’m starting to wonder if you’re even quite right in the head. I don’t have any patience for pathetic humans who can’t make up their minds, so say it quickly. What do you want? For me to spare your sorry excuse for a village, or—are you hesitating because you’d rather have money and riches instead? I don’t care either way as it’s not like you’re actually going to get it, so just hurry up and pick already.”

It would seem that having a demon that close was enough to fry your brain, because even you were surprised by the demand that left your lips.

“Your soul.”

“What?” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly as his single eye went wide—apparently you’d surprised him too.

“Your soul,” you repeated with more confidence than you actually felt. You had no idea what would happen if a demon were to lose their soul, it wasn’t something that came up in any of the stories. All you did know was that when humans lost their souls, their bodies were meant to fade from the mortal plane—and if that were to happen to the demon in front of you, then not only would your friends and family be safe from him, but so would every other human on the continent.

“If you win, you get my soul. If I win, I get yours,” you said.

“Well, at least you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” The demon dropped your chin and sheathed his sword by his side. “I can’t believe I’m even considering agreeing to something so outrageous, but like I said, there’s no way you’ll actually win so I guess there’s no real harm in it—although your soul better taste pretty damn good. Alright,” he held out a blood-stained hand, “I’ll accept your deal human, you just have to say when the game will take place—and don’t try to get smart with me and say something like when the sun and the moon are both bright in the sky or some bullshit. Either it happens in the next week or I slaughter everyone in this village, starting with you.”

You quickly ran some numbers through your head. “In three days time,” you replied, taking his hand and trying not to wince at the feeling of cold flesh or the sensation of another person’s blood on your hands. “And you can’t set any traps in the woods beforehand, either using your own hands or somebody—or something—else’s”

“Likewise." The demon took hold of your hand and gripped it tightly. A hot breeze caressed your cheek, carrying with it the faint scent of sulfur, and while the demon’s eye had seemed as though it were glowing before, now it was positively luminous, like you were looking through a window bordering the fires of hell.

“When the night reaches its peak in three days' time, you and I will enter the wood from opposite sides. If I catch you before the first light of dawn, then your soul is mine to devour, although—” he eyed you up and down in a way that made you feel utterly naked before giving you a feral grin “—not before I’ve taken my time savouring parts of your body as well. And if you win, then you get my soul. Deal?” The magic in the air warped the sound as he spoke the final word, so instead of just one voice, you heard a thousand of them twisted together.

“Deal," you said. As soon as the word left your mouth, you could feel the magic start to bind you together. The demon’s skin grew hot against yours until it felt as though you were holding onto a metal poker you’d stuck in the fire. You tried to let go but the demon tightened his grip, crushing your hand as his claws pierced you, blood welling up over the dark tips and running down your palm.

Thick black smoke started to pour from where your hands were pressed together, tendrils of it winding and curling around both your and the demon’s wrists. Where the smoke brushed over your skin, it left black markings behind in a language you couldn’t read but instinctively knew was bad—and if you were to even so much as try to read it, you were sure you’d invoke something terrible.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more of the pain in your hand, the smoke dissipated and the heat finally started to lessen. The second the demon’s hold on you slackened, you yanked your hand away, inspecting it for any signs of the burns you swore you could feel blistering your palm. You found none, but the demon noticeably gave his hand a shake before drawing it back to his side, as though he too had felt the sear of phantom flames.

“I should hope that I wouldn’t have to explain it to you, but if you try to go back on your word now, then I’ll get your soul by default, so I wouldn’t try to flee or anything. Actually on second thought, it would just mean I get to eat earlier, so do whatever you want.”

You’d sort of figured that might be the case, but fortunately your plan was based on following through with your deal. And so, in spite of the lingering pain and the blood still running down your hand, you did your best to stand tall.

“And if you try to harm any of the villagers in the next three days, then I get your soul by default.”

The demon waved his hand at you. “Yeah, yeah, as if I’d do anything stupid enough to hand you the win. Although now I have to find something to do to kill time over the next three days. Well, I guess you didn’t say anything about harming anyone from another village.” He tapped his claws against the grip of his sword and you silently apologized to anyone who was unfortunate enough to live in the surrounding area for not being more careful with your wording. Still, while you might be bold enough to strike a deal with a demon, your courage for the day was spent, and even if it weren’t, you doubted anything good would come from trying to bargain with him any further.

“I’ll meet you at the edge of the woods by the meadow before the contest starts,” you told him, “so we can make sure we enter from opposite ends.”

“I’ll be there,” he replied, adjusting his cloak around his shoulders as he turned to walk away. “Enjoy the last three days of your life human. I’ll look forward to what I’m going to do to you the next time we meet.”

You didn’t bother saying anything as he stalked away, ragged cloak fluttering in the breeze. All you could do was look miserably at the bodies lying at your feet and pray you hadn’t just signed up for a fate worse than theirs.

The demon had vanished from view by the time some of the other villagers made their way onto the gruesome scene. You weren’t sure what they must have made of it, the sight of you standing alone surrounded by bodies, blood dripping from your hand. Truth be told, you didn’t know what to make of the whole thing either, the more you thought about what you’d just done and the more time you spent with blood-soaked air filling your lungs, the more you felt like you were about to lose the contents of your stomach.

You made the mistake of looking at the head of the weaver’s grandson, grim shards of bone splattered in blood and lumps of something wet and pink. By the time one of your fellow villagers tried to pull you away from it, your ears were ringing and your vision was rimmed with black fog.

It was a bit of a blur from there, sounds of screams as the friends and family of those slaughtered finally caught sight of the carnage mixed with soft but insistent voices asking what happened, what could have done this. For some reason, you didn’t tell them about the demon, using the last semblance of sense you had left to hide the black markings on your hand with your sleeve.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t think there was any point in scaring them any more than the incident already had. Either you’d win your bargain with the demon or they’d all be slaughtered in little over three days time—you were sure that even if you told them to flee the village now, it wouldn’t be enough to spare them if you lost. Or maybe the reason you didn’t tell them was because you didn’t want to hear them berate you for making such a stupid bargain, for betting their lives on a plan spun up in a couple of heartbeats that was based on old travellers’ tales.

Regardless of what drove the lies spilling from your tongue, you told them the dead were the victims of a great wolf that must have wandered too far south. You’d seen it sniffing at the corpses when you’d arrived and then hidden behind the old, run down barn for fear of being eaten. After finding the prey not to its liking, the wolf had left and you’d finally emerged to see if there was any hope of saving the victims.

From the looks the villagers exchanged with each other in your presence, you suspected they didn’t entirely believe you, but they had no better explanation, not one that would make a lick of sense anyway. You seemed to be in a state of shock so they didn’t bother questioning you any further, sending you home with an escort who set you up with a warm cup of soup and a blanket before going on their way.

It took a long time to register the soup had gone cold in your hands, any warmth it once held gone with the daylight. Guilt picked at you for letting another person’s kindness go to waste, but no matter how good the broth smelt, you couldn’t make yourself take so much as a sip. Not when the small silvers of pale root vegetable reminded you of the bones you’d seen sticking out of the bodies on the blood-splattered grass. And the brown chunks of meat made you think of the lifeless corpses still out there, of how if they were not burned quickly, then the crows would pick over them just like someone pulled apart an animal to fill your bowl.

The soup went out your backdoor under the cover of night and you retired to bed on a stomach full of nothing but herb tea.

In your dreams you found yourself stranded on a small, jagged platform made of dark stone, a thick, bubbling, viscous yellow liquid surrounding it, spread out as far as you could see. The air was thick with fumes that irritated the inside of your mouth to the point you could taste the potent tang of blood on your tongue.

A particularly large bubble burst against the edge of the platform, splattering your legs and you screamed. It burned and burned as it ate right through your thin nightclothes and went to work on your flesh. Hurriedly, you tore off a portion of your nightshirt and wrapped it around your hand before trying to scrape the corrosive substance off your skin. If anything it just made the pain worse, and before long the acid had eaten through your shirt and the skin of your fingers started to burn.

You fell to your knees just as another bubble burst nearby, coating your bare arms with droplets of the poison surrounding you. It was agony, pure and simple—and there was no escape from it, nothing you could do to stop your skin melting from your limbs.

A glance down at your arm revealed pink flesh surrounded by a bloody froth, a faint pale gleam shining from the deepest point of the wound. You whimpered, begging for someone, anyone to make it stop.

Suddenly a hand surged into your field of view, coming just short of actually touching you. It was covered in the same awful yellow liquid that surrounded you, and where it dripped onto the rock, you could hear a faint hiss. You looked back along the arm, trying to find the thing it belonged to, but when you did, all you could do was let out a choked scream.

The thing’s trunk was made of pitted pink flesh covered with a faint yellow sheen, a multitude of limbs—all of which were mangled in one way or another—extended out of it in every direction. But it was not those details that truly horrified you, no, it was the multitude of eyes scattered over the monster’s skin, a variety of shapes and colours, but all staring at you with the same keen awareness and desperate silent plea. There were mouths too, full of half-burned away tongues and teeth, all of them screaming—many in languages you couldn’t understand—but the ones you could were begging for death.

Whatever this thing was now, you were quite certain that at one point, it had been a person—people.

You scrabbled back from where the thing loomed over the rock but it did not take long for you to reach the lip of the platform, the jagged edge of it slicing through the thin skin of your palm as your hand slipped over the edge. The pain barely registered compared to the burn of the acid.

The creature pulled itself forwards on its many limbs in a disjointed, painful fashion, making slow progress towards you. It didn’t matter how slow it was though, not when you had nowhere to go except down, into the bubbling acid below—but maybe even that was better than whatever fate you’d meet if the monster reached you. You contemplated it, trying to think around the awful pain and burning fumes and your own mindless terror. It took too long.

Your ankle was set ablaze as one the creature’s hands grabbed hold of it and a scream was ripped from you. No matter how misshapen the fingers gripping you were, they were strong, easily dragging you back across the platform as the thing started to retreat the way it had come, lowering itself back into the acid—now pulling you with it. Your blunt fingertips scraped uselessly against the cool black stone as your leg was hauled over the side of the platform, and you could do nothing but watch helplessly as the creature fully submerged itself once more—its many screaming voices muffled by the thick fluid—your ankle pulled in with it. And as your foot touched the acid, you heard the hiss of flesh being eaten away and then—

You woke violently, panicked and drenched in sweat. For a few foggy moments you were convinced the droplets you felt running down your face left the burn of acid in their wake and you swiped desperately at your skin, a cry still trapped in your throat. The feeling faded as the shape of your room finally came into focus around you, your frantic movements slowing before stopping altogether as you registered where you were.

This was your home and it was just a nightmare and you were safe. You loosed a single sob of relief into your palms while you took a moment to calm down, but as you drew your hands away from your face you caught sight of the black scrawl crawling down from the base of your fingers and up your wrist, just visible in the first few rays of the morning sun peeking through a gap in your curtains. Fuck, why couldn’t all of it have just been a dream?

You wouldn’t normally have risen so early at this point in the summer but the thought of falling back onto your mattress—and back into the hellscape you’d just escaped from—had you shooting from your bed, hurriedly pulling off your nightclothes to get changed into something more practical. There was no way you could just sit there, not when in three days time you could be plunged into some version of your nightmare for real—only this time with no way out. Shit, your stupid plan had better work, because if not—

If not—

No, it had to work, you told yourself as you tugged on a pair of well worn brown boots and a light jacket, ignoring the way your fingers trembled as you did so. If not for your own sake, then just the thought of the rest of your fellow villagers—people you called your friends—getting brutally torn apart like those bodies the demon had left in his wake, had you hastily heading out of your door and beelining straight for the woods.

It would be idiotic to try to lay a trap for the demon when it went directly against the terms of your deal—you might as well just hand him your soul on a platter along with the heads of the villagers—and that was without mentioning the fact that the likelihood of a full-blooded demon being contained by whatever trap or rudimentary snare you could reasonably set up was about that of a great wolf being ensnared by the web of a pixie spider.

Fortunately however, the demon hadn’t made any adjustments to your wording to include any stipulations against using something that already lay in the woods—and that was what you were counting on, all you had to do was hope it was still there.

It was early enough that barely anyone was around as you marched towards the woods—the few people you did see offering you a sympathetic glance as you passed by. Evidently word had spread that you’d been the one to discover the corpses yesterday; in fact it wouldn’t surprise you if a couple of villagers dropped by your home at an hour that was deemed more reasonable—both to offer comfort and to see if a night of rest had calmed you enough to gleam any more details about what happened. You could worry about that later, you thought, as you reached the treeline and stepped through without pause, you had no intentions of telling the truth so they would have to settle for your explanation. At least your nightmare had you rattled enough that they’d likely be convinced any holes in your story were due to trauma rather than deliberate falsehoods.

It had been years since you’d last delved deep into the wood and it took you some time to find the familiar but overgrown path among the winding brambles and luscious green moss coating the ground. Your body felt tight with tension as you wove between the dark trunks and branches of the trees. It looked beautiful in the morning, the soft light falling through small gaps in the leafy canopy, catching on the colourful petals of the flowers dotted amongst the moss—bunches of tiny pink orchids and bell-shaped white flowers that were often woven in a bride’s hair at weddings.

But none of that changed the fact that in several days' time, you were to be hunted among these very trees—and no matter how peaceful the wood seemed now, you had no doubt it would feel far less tranquil with a demon stalking through it. Apprehension had you moving quickly, the thorns on the brambles scratching at your clothes as you passed. Please let it still be there you thought, nails digging into your palms, please, please let it still be there .

Deeper and deeper you went into the wood and fear clutched at you as you still found no signs of what you were looking for. You had no illusions that you’d be able to elude the demon without it—hell you doubted you’d even last an hour. Oh gods please let it still be here.

Then, finally, a small gap in the trees—a clearing—and at its centre—

Dead man’s roses.

You nearly collapsed with relief when you saw them, the mass of thick vines coated in velvet black leaves and big, blood red thorns, large flower buds dotted at the tips. The scene looked almost exactly as you remembered it, nearly untouched by the many years that had passed since you were last here.

The tangle of vines and their flower buds hardly guaranteed your safety but at least now that you knew it was still here, you had something of a chance—and judging by the size of the buds, you hadn’t messed up on the timing either.

With a small amount of your anxiety lifted, you felt exhaustion start to creep in on you, the product of a restless night and an early start. You were half tempted to stay here for a bit, to sit beside the vines and run the velvety leaves through your fingers, but you didn’t. Now that you knew they were still here, you were wary of staying in the wood too long, of doing anything that the demonic magic wrapped around your wrist might interpret as a breach of the rules of the deal. There wasn’t anything more you could do—not here, not in the village—except rest and wait. And pray to gods you weren't entirely sure you believed in that there was at least some truth in the stories you’d heard about demons.

Link to Part 2: The Game

Thank you so much for reading everyone! If you liked this chapter I would really appreciate it if you let me know in the form of a comment. A lot of work has gone into this fic and even just a thumbs up to let me know you’re enjoying the story thus far would mean the world to me.

Take care all x

#my writing #Shin Tsukinami #Shin Tsukinami x reader #demon AU #diabolik lovers #for once I'm putting my writing in the main tag #if anyone needs me to add any more trigger warnings then please let me know!

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 3 years ago

Text

when i grow up

(an "unintentional" prompt by @impishtubist that involved tiny Harry helping Sirius in the garage which evolved into this lil drabble... and also just a love letter to stay at home parents.)

"Padfoot, I'm you!" Harry had taken off his shirt like Sirius, his hat now turned backward in the spitting image of how Sirius was wearing his that day.

"This is the best day of my life, I think, second, to the day I married you, and when Harry was born, obviously," Sirius told Remus, grinning widely, as he walked towards Harry "Travel-Size me."

"Can I help you? I'm good at helping!"

July 1984

Despite the summer heat, and the warnings the weathermen had said over the muggle-radio Remus liked to play in the mornings, Sirius was outside working on his bike. Remus was also ignoring the heat warnings as he sat in the grass of their front yard, in a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders, their toddler running around. Harry had on a pair of sunglasses, oscillating between drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, chasing birds that landed in the grass and playing his new favorite game of jump on Moony (one that was played whenever Remus sat on the ground).

"Oof," Remus groaned with a little extra force and Sirius looked over his shoulder from where he was crouched by his bike, Remus on his back and Harry very proud of having knocked him over.

"You alright, babe?" Sirius asked, his eyebrow raising in amusement.

"Oh, I'm just fine. Nothing a whole jar of healing paste wont fix later."

"Harry be gentle with Moony, he's fragile," Sirius put down his tool and stood up to walk over to the grass, not bothering to put his shirt back on

"What's fragile?" asked Harry squinting up at him, his sunglasses knocked off in the collision, but still happily Remus' stomach.

"I'm not--"

"It means he's like one of our dishes. Remember when we broke one?

"Crash!" Harry exclaimed

"Exactly." Sirius bent down to grab Harry's sunglasses, putting them back on his face, his toddler finally getting off Remus causing more sound effects from his husband that Harry found hilarious.

"Silly, Moony," Harry told him before running off again to grab a piece of chalk he left on the walkway.

"That's what they call me," Remus laughed softly

"Need a hand?"

"No, I'm just going to enjoy the view from down here," he said eyeing Sirius' bare torso with appreciation. Whenever Sirius worked on his bike, at some point his shirt came off. Sirius had barely stood up again when Harry collided with his legs, arms wrapping around his knee caps.

"Got you!"

"OH NO!" Sirius gasped, "Too bad you're no match for the tickle monster!" Sirius reached down, fingers wiggling against Harry's sides for a few moments before picking him up entirely and throwing him into the air. Sirius always caught him, but it didn't make it less amusing to watch Remus have mild-heart attacks.

"You know who else is fragile..." Remus told him below Harry's laughter as Sirius held him under one arm.

"I'm not, Moony! I'm big! I'm strong!" Harry told him, despite the blood rushing to his head from the position Sirius had him in. "Padfoot, what are you doing? Can I play?"

"Oh, just stuff on my bike, I can come play with you," Sirius said, Harry now back on the ground and rushing towards Sirius' bike to examine whatever was so interesting that it was keeping his godfather's attention

"Did we accidentally put a pepper-up potion in his lunch?" Remus asked, "Who's going to tell him that hot days are for sleeping the grass?"

"Probably you. Did you forget this is James-Never Sat Still Ever-Potter's kid?"

"Fair point. I--" but Remus stopped his sentence, and started to laugh, Sirius following his gaze towards Harry who was by Sirius' bike.

"Padfoot, I'm you!" Harry had taken off his shirt like Sirius, his hat now turned backward in the spitting image of how Sirius was wearing his that day.

"This is the best day of my life, I think, second, to the day I married you, and when Harry was born, obviously," Sirius told Remus, grinning widely, as he walked towards Harry "Travel-Size me."

"Can I help you? I'm good at helping!"

Sirius laughed, picking up a spare wrench that was lying by his bike and transfiguring it slightly smaller and lighter, before handing it to Harry, "For you, my love."

September 1990

"Hey, Moony?" Harry asked from the kitchen table where he was doing his homework. Remus was sat there with him as Sirius started cooking dinner, one of them better at keeping their 9-year-old on task and one of them better at not burning the house down. "What did you want to be when you grew up? When you were my age?"

"Oh, I...always wanted to be a teacher," Remus told him, leaning forward and putting his chin into the palm of his hands, "Sirius and your Dad even got me a briefcase when we graduated school with Professor RJ Lupin on it because they knew I'd be a teacher some day."

"No offense, but that's boring." Sirius laughed from his spot at the stove, turning to catch Remus' expression that had gone from whimsical to deadpan in a second, "I don't want to be a teacher. I'm supposed to think about what I want to be when I grow up and write a paragraph on it. But I only want to be a Quidditch player. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Most jobs are going to be work, Harry, hate to break it to you"

"Sirius, what's your job?"

"Oh, yeah, Sirius please explain to us your job," Remus teased and Sirius turned around fully crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I stay at home."

"That's a job?" asked Harry, "But what do you do all day?"

"I...clean," Sirius offered, leaving out the part that he probably cleaned more than most other stay-at-home parents, "You know, take care of laundry and dishes and all that. I...make sure the yard is good, I send post and check in about money things. Pick you up from school, buy the groceries, that kind of stuff."

"All the time?" Harry looked at him in disbelief through round glasses

"Sometimes I'll work on my bike outside, or go for a drive. I'll go to the shops...you know when some days we have pastries here? It just kind of depends."

"So you get to do whatever you want all day?"

Sirius caught Remus' gaze that was boring holes into him, Sirius unsure of how to navigate this with their child who clearly was looking for a career he didn't have to do anything in.

"Sort of, but...I take care of things to."

"Do you get paid?"

"Well...no."

"So how do we have any money? I know it's not from teaching."

"Oh merlin help us..." muttered Remus, and looked at Sirius, "This one is all you."

Sirius laughed stepping closer to the table and wrapping his arms around Remus' shoulders, pulling his husband closer to him, "I won't bore you with money stuff, love but...my family had a lot of money and when they passed, it all became mine. So we're very lucky that I can stay home and--"

"Do what you want? That sounds brilliant," Harry nodded, "Do you have to wear pants?"

Remus laughed, "Sirius still wears pants," he told him, and Harry made a face. Parenting books forgot to mention that ten-year old boys preferred to have one item of clothing off at all times and Harry had taken to walking around in his boxers on the weekends.

"I wear pants, sorry. Non-negotiable."

"Still sounds better than anything else I've heard. You think I can do that when I grow up?"

December 1995

"Stop asking me about it!" Harry huffed in annoyance, not looking up from the magazine he was looking through, "I already told you I didn't know and you asking me questions isn't going to help me magically know."

"Oh, but that attitude will get you magically sent to your room," Remus told him firmly, "It was just a question, and one that it wouldn't hurt you to think about seriously."

Harry sighed and put his magazine down, "I don't want to think about it on school holiday. If I wanted to do that, I would've stayed at school."

"Harry..." Sirius said lightly, "We're just making conversation. I didn't know what I wanted to do when I was fifteen either. But it's kind of unfortunate that these exam scores are what matter."

"If you didn't know, why do I have to know? My marks are fine and I'll study for the OWL's and...I don't know, figure it out some other time."

"You're not interested in anything?" asked Remus, "You're top of your class in Defense."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry shrugged, "I'm interested in...Quidditch games. Oh, and sleeping, love that. And...I snogged a girl, that was pretty cool. I'm definitely interested in that... is there a snogging OWL?"

"No, but I would've been top of the--" started Sirius and Remus elbowed him, laughing slightly.

"Don't encourage this. There's no snogging OWL."

"I think the examiner board should reconsider. I think a lot of my year would be way more interested in that then History of Magic."

"I'll bring it up at the next staff meeting," Remus replied dryly.

"Thank you, that's all I ask." Harry told him, "Are we done now?"

"We're just asking you to think about...some options," Sirius finished, "That's it."

"I think I still like the idea of staying home and doing nothing all day. Except for...painting the kitchen and folding towels. Sounds nice." Harry said and looked at Sirius, "Can't I just hang out at home with you the rest of my life?"

"No." They said at the same time, Harry gasping in mock-offense.

"I am your child! I am hurt you don't want me here forever!" He put his hand to his chest, clutching invisible pearls, the icy teenage exterior finally softening.

"Harry, I love you, so very much," Sirius said, "And you are the messiest person I know. Get that together and we'll talk about you staying here forever."

"I can clean. Maybe."

"Think about it."

April 2004

"Good as new," Sirius said, coming from the back of Number 12 holding a baby blanket that Harry had accidentally used to much bleach on, the fabric turning hard and discolored.

"Thanks. That's the only one he likes and naptime would've been disastrous," Harry said, taking the blanket watching as his 8 month old crawled around on the floor of the sitting room. "You'll have to teach me that one. And also all your dish washing charms...I didn't know a family of three could make so many dishes all the time..."

"It's a learning curve. Anytime you want, kid. I'm here," Sirius said and bent down to pick up James raising him high in the air a few times, the tiny boy giggling. "Happy to have you anytime."

"Did you ever feel like you didn't know what the hell you were doing?"

Sirius laughed, "Harry, I still don't know what the hell I'm doing. Even less back then. Remember that stuffed dragon you had? We lost it so many times, I just ended up buying 10 for back-ups."

Harry grinned, "That's actually smart."

"You learn."

"I know I gave you a lot of shit about being able to do whatever you wanted...but it's not like I expected. The staying home thing."

"It get's easier..."

"I'm not sure that's true. I was a much easier baby than I was a 13 year old I think."

"I heard it come out of my mouth and immediately regretted it," Sirius grinned, holding James against his chest, "I think I meant to say that I wouldn't have wanted to do anything else, and...staying home with you was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Second to marrying Remus. And sitting next to your Dad on the train." Sirius said, "Take care of my grandbaby, let me know if you need anything."

Harry took James into his arms, handing his baby the blanket to hold, the little boy waving it briefly accompanied by squeals, "Did...you think I meant it? All those times I said I wanted to stay home with you?"

Sirius reached his hand out, palming the back of his godsons head gently. He looked older these days, and he could spot the tell-tale signs of lack of sleep on Harry's face. "I always hoped you did."

"Padfoot, I'm you!"

#wolfstar #raising harry #sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #au #drabble #imp prompts #you're welcome

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