#I feel like neither of these things actually support him anymore being in my possession | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderecandystore · 3 years

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(nsfw kinda?) what would the twins do if they went to a party and then woke up next to someone after you-know-what and realize its s/o g/n? would they be shocked? scared? also remeber to drink water and get good sleep!

The irony boo is that I'm doing neither of those things lol-

But something I will do it's your request! It sounds really fun, boo!

I'm sorry this isn't better- I wish I could try this concept again on a full fledged fanfic but I'm not feeling the right mood yet, I think I would half-ass it because of that.

TW/Tags: nsfw/mentions of nsfw // short headcanon // the twins being both tsunderes and yanderes, I just really like the mixture XD // a slight memory loss before regaining everything cause I don't want to make this too dramatic // delusional thinking and possessive thoughts

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Surprise slumber party [Yandere!Bully OCS x GN!Reader - Headcanon]:

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Ya know, the twins are known for bringing different people to sleep with them, normally just so they could have a one time fun with them and then leave- But this time it seems to be very different.

Adrien can't remember what happened the day before but after looking around and analysing his clues he has come to the conclusion that A: This is not the Coldwell mansion and B: HOLY SHIT why the FUCK are YOU sleeping next to them?-

Normally they tend to not care for who is sleeping next to them, just assuming that the warmth that comes from the body next to them is just another toy- Someone who is worth enough to sleep with them, but also not high enough in their standards to be considered a romantic partner.

But you?? You're not just a mere toy to them, you fool.

It's obvious that you two spent the night together in someone else's house, probably a friend of the twins. This confuses Adrien to no end, how were even invited to the party in the first place?? How did a loser like you get in here and how did a loser like you slept with him- YOU SLEPT WITH HIM, OH MY GOD-

Did you two… If you two really did fuck then why can't he remember anything?? This was supposed to be the most important memory in the moment yet he can't recall how you two ended up like this.

It's not his imagination either, there seems to be enough proof to support that you two did something together, but he can't tell how far it went- He wishes he could remember how it was.

Your body, naked next to him- Love bites that seem to be his on doing (he fucking hopes it's his on, or we're going to have a problem-), there doesn't seem to be any other marks- It wasn't rough and ruthless like he normally is with you, well, outside this scenario. Sounds like the perfect time that he can't. Fucking. Remember.

How inconsiderate. He can't even remember what he had imagined doing for so long. Maybe the memories will come back soon enough, he hopes they do.

Could you still remember? Probably not, you seem to be more unconscious than him- But he does hope you remember how it was, how HE was, was it like how he imagined- Was it how you imagined?

"- … Did you ever think about doing this with him at all? Was it- Was it actually love and not just-"

He is more confused than anything else, it was a very pleasant surprise but also so frustrating how he couldn't remember exactly how it went- Some parts seem to be coming back but not the whole scene, and in a foolish attempt at regaining his memories, he tries to redo his actions as his hand tries finding its way around your body once again-

If you wake up right now, you'll see the most confusing mixture of feelings into one single expression: fear, lost, yet an look of pure wonder- The scene before him is beautiful but the fact that only a couple of moments seem to play in his head makes him feel lost and fearful of what you might think of him.

Right now he feels so vulnerable, regretful that he couldn't have done this sooner- Sounds of last night echo through his mind. No one entered in this room except you two, and it's still really early in the morning so he can just go back and enjoy this moment- After all, what could be the best way to celebrate this moment if not by savouring his victory?

He finally got you by his side in the most intimate way possible and finally you can see that you belong to him- He won. He finally won...

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Ya know, the twins are known for bringing different people to sleep with them, normally just so they could have a one time fun with them and then leave- But this time it seems to be very different.

Alexandra can't remember what happened the day before but after looking around and analysing her clues she has come to the conclusion that A: This is not the Coldwell mansion and B: HOLY SHIT why the FUCK are YOU sleeping next to them?-

But you?? You're not just a mere toy to them, you fool.

It's obvious that you two spent the night together in someone else's house, probably a friend of the twins.

Which by the way- How dare you?? Who invited you? Who allowed a loser like you inside this party in the first place?? Did you come with someone else- wait- why are you- WHY IS SHE NAKED?? Why are you BOTH NAKED??? Alexandra feels embarrassed as she can't remember how you two came to be in this position in the first place.

If you two really- Well, fucked- How can she not recall it?? Why can't she remember every single detail from last night?? It was supposed to be "the moment" yet she can only get a couple of scenes inside her head.

It's not a coincidence, it can't be! You two wouldn't be sharing a bed like this unless… No, it's clear that it happened- But why can't she just- Argh! How stressful, YOU are so stressful. You make her go to cloud nine every time she sees you yet she can't even remember if she made you pay for making her feel so- Bashful…

Look at you, naked and… A-And filled with stretch marks- It's clear that she used your body as a canvas for her sharp nails, yet they clearly don't look as painful as her other "victims". Your soft skin looks just as delectable as it always does, but the context of what could have happened makes this scenario so much better- But she still can't remember what got you two to this point, how inconsiderate.

It's the moment she would dream off every night, yet only a couple of scenes and sounds seem to be appearing in her very foggy mind. Maybe later she'll remember how it all went down, but she still needs to know some very important details right now-

Was it… Fun? To you, that is- Was it, like she dreamed off? O-or maybe it was more like one of your dreams- Although she shouldn't expect you to have nice dreams about her, they're all probably nightmares…

Was she good to you like you are to her?

"- Was I sweet… like you are? Was this love or just…"

She feels ashamed more than anything else, now she can't even remember if she looked good while topping you (if she finds out she went bottom mode with you on your first night she'll commit "not living anymore"-). As she caresses your body in hopes of triggering her memory back she can't deny that you look really appetizing, like something she could just take another bite off but never feel satisfied- Or maybe like someone that she can love, and love and love again yet never feel bored of it.

Her expression would be one of- Well, embarrassment mixed with a look of worship- This is probably the most vulnerable she has felt in a long time, yet this is the first time she feels so close to someone, that's a part of her that wants to wake you up and try to show you how much she adores you all over again.

But right now she should control herself, it's already morning, it's a new day. There are probably lots of party guests around the house, and even if the door is locked she doesn't want anyone to know of this. Let her enjoy this alone with you, goddamnit.

She won… Can you believe that?? She won. She won, she won! After so long she finally has you here with her, and even if she can't tell what happened and how far it went, it is still pretty clear that after so long of you denying it- You have accepted it.

You have successfully accepted your place next to her, not only just in bed. This is perfect- This moment, it's perfect.

You are hers now- Always have been!...

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere bully #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere x g/n reader #yandere bully x g/n reader #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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bjornswoman · 4 years

Text

Blue piercing eyes

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! I hope each one of you is alright. I want to thank yoy again for your support, that means a lot for me. Especially, now that I am getting through a difficult period time. Also, sorry for any mistakes. Thank you for reading this!

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, romance, drama, angst.

Summary: You and Bjorn reunite again after two painful months.

Warnings: Jealousy.

You tried to live a peaceful life, away from him and the drama of his world, that followed him everywhere. Wherever he was, the placed ended up destroyed. You even left your home, you left Denmark and moved somewhere else, thinking that he wouldn't find you. You had reached Spain to find your peace, but Bjorn Lothbrok was stubborn and he would do anything to take you back. The reason you left wasn't because you didn't love him. You loved him with every last piece of you. Your heart was beating only for him and the fact that you were apart, teared it off, but you couldn't do nothing else.

He had warned you that his job was his top priority and all the matters that happened into it. You didn't care, at first, but that changed when be spent more and more time away from you, because of business. Of course, business included being close to attracting women. You knew how Bjorn could get when he was close to a hot woman, he couldn't handle himself. He loved you, he really did and you knew that, but that was his weak spot. He was the perfect man. He was a successful businessman, a good looking man and an even better lover, you knew too well how to satisfy a woman. He was a father, he loved his children, he had told you that and even if he didn't, you would see it in his eyes. He loved them deeply, but he didn't really know how to express it, because his own father had never really gotten to tell him. He just taught him how to be the successful heir of his company. He kept saying that he regretted for not being in their lives, you told him that never was late, but, as the stubborn man he was, he didn't listen, he thought that he had lost any chance.

The things between you got bad and then worse when he met your boss. You were working in a well-known law firm. Actually, he had already known him, obviously. Bjorn Lothbrok knew literally everyone in this country and everyone knew him. After all, his family was the richest one in Denmark. The name Lothbrok was known all over the world and many famous businessmen craved a deal with them. Your boss, Mr Jones, was a womanizer, as well as your beloved boyfriend. He was hitting on you non-stop not knowing about your relationship with Bjorn, but even when he learned, he kept doing that. His flirting was the reason of the fights that destroyed you. He spoke harsh words, just to harm you, and you did the same and then your relationship ended.

After all that, you knew that you had to leave from Denmark. Ubbe, his younger brother, told that be was a mess and that he wouldn't let things this way. You wanted to be with him, but all that drama and you being never something serious for him, you decided that it your time to leave Denmark. Ubbe warned you that he would chase after you, but you were sure that you would make it to hide yourself from him and maybe, when he had forgotten you, you would return to your home and restart everything.

Now, after two months, you had settled down. You had a new job and made some new friends. You even managed to go on a date with some man. His name was Olaf, luckily, he was from Sweden. Maria, one of new friends, was working in the same company with him. She was the one whi insisted that you should date someone and you did. At first, you didn't like the idea of going out with someone that wasn't Bjorn Lothbrok, but, when you got to know Olaf, you liked spending time with him. He wasn't Bjorn, but no one would be, you had to move on, as you were sure that he did.

The only problem was that he didn't move on, because you loved you. He couldn't even lay with another woman. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok couldn't lay with another because of you. Every single time he saw your figure everywhere in the room. He even tried to not be in a room to claim a woman, but you were still around there. He couldn't even imagine that he would feel something like that towards a woman, but there he was, feeling helpless. He tried to find you all this time and when he did, the deal with that Spanish men seemed the best option. They were pain in his ass for a whole year and now they were lucky that Madrid was where you decided to hide yourself, but nothing could be hidden from Bjorn Lothbrok.

"Stop! Please, I can't! It's..... my belly is hurting! Olaf, please you need to stop!" You tried to say within your laughter. You couldn't stop laughing. All night he was telling you some of some ridiculously funny jokes, you couldn't stop laughing. He was smiling at you. He liked you and tried to make him feel more comfortable when you were together, that's why he started saying that jokes. He wanted you to open up.

You couldn't do that. You needed to fully trust him before you started sharing private stuff about you with him. It wasn't like Bjorn. When you were with him you felt comfortable, that had been happening since your first actual date. Now with Olaf, it was different. Maria said that it was normal, because you hadn't been on a date with anyone, except Bjorn, but you didn't feel like it.

Olaf continued saying his jokes, but it wasn't funny anymore. Your laughter died when you saw Bjorn entering that same restaurant. His hand was wrapped around a woman's waist. She looked like a doll, probably she was a model. He didn't look at you neither once. Olaf looked at you confused. You had totally forgotten about him for a moment, but his voice took you back there on your table.

"Is-is everything all right?" He asked looking where you were looking before. He couldn't understand what was happening. "Do you-do you know that man?" He asked again and you coughed. You didn't want to lie to him, but that seemed the only solution at that moment.

"Well, not really. He just seemed familiar to me, but I don't really know him." You lied and he smiled at you again. Your eyes found their way to Bjorn again. This time they made contact with his blue piercing eyes. He didn't looked at you for long. His gaze returned to that woman. You tried to concentrate on what Olaf were saying. Your mind, as well as your heart, was on Bjorn and that blond woman who reminded you of Barbie.

"As I told you before, the company I work for is goimg to deal with some company of Denmark and--" His words made you look at him. He just said company of Denmark, you heard that clear. He was here because of a deal. Then what was this woman doing here, next to your man? Technically, he wasn't your man, not anymore, but you cared.

"You just said company of Denmark, didn't you?" You tried not to yell and you succeeded, only because you didn't want Bjorn to understand, but he did and that was why he smirked. Literally, this man could hear anything, even a cat walking. Olaf nodded and you run your hand through your hair. "Do you-do you know how the CEO of that company is called? Actually, is his name Bjorn Lothbrok?" You whispered and he frowned. He was completely confused. Firstly, he didn't know why you bothered and secondly, he couldn't understand why you were whispering.

"I think so." He spoke and you smiked. Now he was completely lost. He couldn't understand you. "Are you okay, (Y/N)? Do you want ys to leave, you know to continue our night somewhere else?" He asked and you thought about it for a while. If you left now, you wouldn't be close enough to watching him and if you stayed, you would be close enough, but you would be caught up for sure because you couldn't stop staring at them. Leaving was the right thing to do, you didn't want him to thinking that you were staying tgere vecause of him. But if you left, you wouldn't know were he was. That didn't really mattered. A voice inside your hears was yelling at you that you would meet him again.

"I am fine, but I do think that we should leave. I know were we should go. It's funnier there." You spoke and grabbed your jacket. He stood up and a wide smile covered his face. Bjorn wasn't as happy as Olaf. You had succeeded. You glanced at him. You was glaring at you. You smiled to yourself and left.

The fact that Bjorn was enraged because of you made you happy, but that woman with him didn't. You were almost sure that he had moved on, but if he had, why would he be angry with you dating another man? You needed answers and only Bjorn could give them to you, but you were sure that he wasn't willing to give them and even if you was, you wouldn't dare to ask for them. You could imagine that smirk on his face and that drove you crazy.

You were jealous, so much jealous that you couldn't control your thoughts, but you had no right to be. You had found another man and he did the same. You had to be happy for him. Whatever happened between you, wasn't meant to last. Maybe that way was better, but that didn't make it less painful. It hurt seeing him with another woman.

On the other hand, he was enraged. He tried to control his anger and not beat that man to death. That wouldn't help your relationship at all, but he couldn't see him make you laugh or hold your hand, like he used to do. Actually, he had never really held your hand. His hand had always been wrapped around your waist. He was possessive and that movement meant to show to every other man who wanted you, that you were his. He had totally forgotten about the blonde doll with him, but she made sure to remember him. She cleared her throat, but still he didn't seem to care for her. She sighed deep.

"Bjorn!" She whispered yelled and he looked at her frowned. She smiled at him and he looked back at you. You and that prick had stood up and probably were going to leave this place.

He hadn't picked this place randomly, he had learned about you dating this man and even that this place was where you going most of the times. So he wouldn't miss the chance to encounter with you here. He thought that all this would be less painful, but it wasn't. He even managed to bring Stella. She was a model, they met somewhere he couldn't reacall. She was just a friend. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok had friends that were female. She was one of them. After all, she wasn't interested in any man.

Your eyes locked with his dark angry blue before you make your way out of that place. If eyes killed, you would be dead. Everyone would be dead inside that place.

You started walking with Olaf by your side. No one of you really talked. You were thinking about Bjorn. He looked more beautiful than before. His beard, that you loved so much, had grew much longer and his hair was shorter and that blue eyes that you missed so much. You could sense that something was bothering Olaf, as well, but Bjorn was the only thing you could think.

"There something in your mind that's bothering you, I can sense it you know and I think that it has to do with that man from earlier in the restaurant." Olaf spoke and you turned your face and looked at him. You didn't want to lie to him. He didn't deserve all of this. He was a funny and good guy. He deserved a woman who cared about him truly and loved him, not you. All you could think about, all you cared about was Bjorn. You were stil in love with him. Actually, you had never stopped. You couldn't stop.

You turned your gaze down on the ground. You weren't proud for that. You didn't want to hurt him. He deserved to know the truth. He was nothing but good and fair to you all this time. He didn't even make any move to lay with you. He respected you, because he had understood that something bothered you.

"There is something that's bothering me and yes, it has to do with him. His name is Bjorn and he is my ex." You said in stable tone of voice.

"Bjorn as Bjorn Lothbrok?" He asked, trying to join the pieces together. You nodded at him and he frowned. Now all made sense. He was the man Maria told him about. He told him that you had broken up with your boyfriend and that was the reason you came to Madrid. You lived in Denmark and Bjorn lived there too. Also, Maria told him that you tried to get away from that man. It all made sense. He was famous and powerful. "And you? I mean, do you still love him?" He asked, but you didn't really answered. He knew the answer himself. He could see it in your eyes. When you looked at him in the restaurant, he saw a gleam in your eyes, something that he hadn't seen inside there before. It hurt him, because he liked you, but he couldn't make you love him or even like him. If Bjorn was the man who could make you happy, he would ve happy as well. People said that if you love someone, you let him go. That was what he was going to do.

"I have never stopped loving him. You are a good guy, you truly are. But for me there is only Bjorn. My Gods have decided that I am made to love him, but we can't be together, things between us are complicated. Sorry, if that hurts, but I can't stop it. I wanted to forget about him and be with you. I tried, but I can't control my feelings." You spoke and your eyes teared up. What you said was the truth. It was upon you these feelings, you didn't have the power to banish them. Your tears were streaming insanely from you eyes. You couldn't even control that.

"I understand you. That kind of love is difficult, if not impossible, to die. If you are happy because of him, I am happy, as well. Just not cry. You have nothing to be sorry about. It's your feelings, you can't change them. I really like you, yeah, and I want to fight for you, but I know that I will lose." He said and stopped walking, you stopped, as well. His hands cupped your hand and his thumbs wiped away your tears. "You shouldn't cry. That eyes aren't made for crying. Don't let him leave, (Y/N). You are suffering without and he is suffering too. Actually, he probably wants to kill me. His eyes were throwing daggers to me. I am lucky because eyes can't kill." He said and you smiled. He was so sweet. He even tried to make you smile after all this.

"His piercing blue eyes can kill you know." You said and both of you laughed. After a small conversation, he left. You sat on a bench and looked at the starry night sky. Madrid was busy at night. People were laughing and having fun. You were watching them having fun in a try to forget about your own thoughts, but that seemed impossible. Bjorn were always there, inside your mind, haunting your thoughts. You would never find the peace you wanted, because there is no peace when you are away from only person you care so much about. You would only find your peace by his side, but even there the problems would exist.

A very familiar scent invaded in your nostrils. You lifted your gaze and saw his face. He sat down next to you and for a moment or so no one of you really talked. You were just watching the busy streats. You were sure that he could listen your heart pounding inside your chest. You were together after two whole months and your skin was burning. Your hearts couldn't stop beating so fast. You were sure that if it continued to beat like that, it would be ripped off your chest. You turned to look at him, he was looking at you. Blue piercing eyes met with yours and they stayed there.

"Were is your..... friend?" He said playfully and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and light it up. You watched every single movement of his. "Do you want one?" He offered yiu cigarette and you took it. He seemed surprised by this, because you didn't really smoke before. He light it up for you and you inhaled the smoke and then exhaled. Now he was watching your movements. "I thought you hate smoking." He continued and you turned again to him.

"Yes, I hated it, but I guess I have adopted bad habits since I came here. As for Olaf, he probably went to his home or somewhere else. He is a good guy, but not for me." You said and looked back at the street. You exhaled the smoke before you start talking again. "What about your friend?" You asked, trying to sound like you didn't care, but in fact you did. You wanted to ask why he was here, sitting next to you, when he could ve somewhere with that blonde doll, you saw him with, but you were a coward. He smiled. He had succeeded, you were jealous.

"Probably somewhere with her girlfriend." He answered and you looked at him frowned. You couldn't understand. He threw away his cigarette and moved closer to you. You did the same. His hands cupped your face and he looked deep in your eyes. "You were crying. You know that I hate it when you cry." He whispered and his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why did you come here, Bjorn? Don't tell about some stupid deal, I won't believe it." You said and he sighed.

"I came for you, (Y/N). I thought I was fine when you left, that I didn't need you. I was angry with you for leaving me, but I didn't want to admit it. I tried to lay with some women, but you were always there, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I need you. I-I..... love you." He confessed and you tears fell from your eyes again. His thumbs on your cheeks wiped them away. "Come back home." He whispered and you closed your eyes again.

"I tried to forget about you, to start a new life here away from my old one, I even found a man that wasn't you, but nothing seemed to work out, because of my mind. You were, you are always inside there haunting my thoughts. I don't really sleep, you eyes don't let me. Earlier today, I told Olaf about us and he understood. He told me not to let you leave. He even told me that I am suffering when I am not with you and I am not going to deny it. I love you too much to bear living without you, Bjorn." You whispered and he smirked, but not for long. His lips pressed on yours, in a fierce and rough kiss. He was biting you hungrily within the kiss. You loved it. You loved all the marks that he left to your body each time, hickeys, scratches, bites, bruises, you were used to that. He gripped your body firmly, he didn't mean to harm you. He was just getting too much exciting about this and he couldn't handle himself. He hurt you sometimes because of his size and his fast pace, but you liked it. At first it was a little painful, but then it was only pleasure.

When you stopped kissing, you looked at his eyes again. All this was like a dream. He smiled at you and you did the same. He didn't smile often. Most of the times he was angry and his eyebrows were knitted, because of anger.

"So this means that you are coming back." He said and you nodded.

Your relationship didn't work out at first, but it would in the future. Everything would be different after this night. After all this time you were apart, he knew that he needed you, that he loved you. He had loved other woman before, but no one of them made him feel this way. What he felt for you wasn't something that he could handle or control. He liked being in control and that drove him crazy. He would try to be the right man for you. He wanted to be ans he would.

#vikings bjorn #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #bjorn imagine #bjorn x reader #vikings imagine #vikings x reader

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

innocence - 25

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+)

A/N: me to me “you shall not write smut. BEHAVE” also me “mILE HIGH CLUB”. 2021 barely started and i already need jesus. also rip me attempting to post this before christmas but hey i refuse to let christmas end bc christmas is my only hope and love and it’s over.

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky was the first one up as the clock struck 5AM. He was anxious for the flight, for everything really. Y/N had assured him she had bought first class tickets so he’d be comfortable with the long trip but he was still reticent about flying. As an Avenger he used to do national missions, preferring not to fly as it brought him some memories he didn’t like to relieve. Sam had suggested he took some sleeping pills while the flight was going but Bucky refused not to be there to support Y/N who’d been getting called by her team 24/7 about her “mishap” as her manager like to refer to. As if a 20-something dating was something weird. Bucky knew Steve did way worse things than that but of course, she had stepped off the line, off the good girl, virgin ‘til marriage, girl next door yet just gorgeously unattainable and if Y/N hadn’t told him to stay out of it, he would’ve threatened everyone.

Anyway, other than flying he kept wondering about her family. Y/N had a big family, at least more family than he had and he wasn’t entirely sure how they would react to him. Bucky knew he wasn’t the type of man you’d like your daughter to bring in. Who’d want to say that their daughter was dating an assassin? No one. He had wanted to say no, he wanted her to have a nice holiday but looking at her there was no denying her.

Y/N woke up half an hour later, extending her arm towards Bucky’s side only to feel the cold of the sheets on her side. She rose her torso, rubbing the sleep off her eyes before the blurry room became clear. He was sat on the big armchair, staring at the flight tickets.

- Someone’s an early bird. - she leaned on the bed, hands under her chin as he gave her his charming smile. - Excited?

- Nervous. - he rose from his chair to kiss her forehead. - Do you need anything, princess?

- Just need to get dressed. - she lazily got up from her bed. - You’re gonna love it, Buck. There’s snow on the ground, we can get spiced mulled tea and go see the decorations at the West End.

- I’m sure I will. Now get dressed unless you plan on going to the airport in your underwear.

- I don’t see you complaining. - she flirted, hips moving side to side as she opened his wardrobe to grab her burgundy long sleeve dress and pair of black flats. Bucky tried his best not to ogle at her and her figure in a matching black set of star motif bra and panties with garters to see through black stockings. Sometimes he had to slap himself to convince himself the woman standing in front of him actually liked him. - You’re okay with going, right?

- Of course, princess. Whatever makes you happy.

- Okay but what makes you happy? We don’t need to go if you don’t feel comfortable.

- Just regular meeting the parents nerves. - he pulled her hair away from her face to kiss her forehead.

- Based on the photos Rebecca has, I would say you’ve met enough parents not to be nervous anymore.

- Come here, you little minx. - he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in close to him. - I will have you know that I never met any of the girls’ parents. It was not a good thing for a lady to be seen alone with a man in my time, so we had to keep it a secret.

- Mhm, were you destroying ladies’ reputations in your day, Mr. Barnes? Is that it?

- Not my fault they couldn’t resist me. - he leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face away, naughty smile on her lips. - Don’t do that to me, princess. It’ll break my tiny heart.

- Stop playing Romeo and grab your bags before we’re late. - she swung her hips side to side to grab her own cary on, a small matte black suitcase with her initials on the bottom left in a small size.

Bucky followed her into the airport. He couldn’t seriously remember the last time he had been in an airport, maybe during his youth but right now everything seemed so different yet he didn’t feel scared. He looked to his right and there she was, holding his hand as the other pulled her trolley, dark sunglasses on to hide who she was but still sporting that smile that was truly hers, something he could pick out of a crowd. He never really liked the word or feeling of possession, neither did she, but they didn’t really mind the feeling that a ship’s rope held both their hands together in a nautical strong knot. It was that sort of feeling that disconnected them both from what surrounded them, the sound of echoed and at the same time murmured silence. Y/N didn’t mind, Bucky didn’t mind. The flashlights went by dim and the announcements went mute for both of them.

Y/N however did not like airports. For her, airports signified goodbyes, harmful and painful goodbyes those were you wave goodbye to your loved ones and walk into security checks with tears lodged in her throat, telling herself to put herself together as she approached the beginning of that line. It represented waving goodbye to her comforts to travel somewhere she was not happy, not that her life in the US after she left the UK didn’t made her happy, it did but it was a faux happiness. It was locked inside a bought apartment with people who didn’t or refused to understand her, with friends she loved and cared for but didn’t really check on her them too lost on their own lives, it was yearning for a love that took years to come and everyone told her it would come but never did. It was an odd feeling being at the airport but being with Bucky twisted that. It was no longer leaving loved ones, it was departing with them, it was leaving all the mess that haunted her behind yet she couldn’t help feeling like something lingered in the wind, some cut throating emotions and actions which would return to her.

She decided not to dwell on it, smiling at Bucky as he picked some snacks to bring inside the plane besides her telling him they probably would have the peanut M&Ms rather than his beloved chocolate only ones. She watched him as someone watched something that reminded them of a childhood memory or something that touched them, with a tinge of sadness, almost knowing it would never happen again. She felt tied to him but she felt at any time this knot could worn out and she feared he would leave. Things fade, nothing lasts forever and she wondered when he would realise that he was dating a ticking time bomb controlled by others. She had control over her own heart but her face, her reputation, that would never be hers to control.

- Y/N? - he laid his hand on top of her shoulder. - Are you okay, princess?

- Yeah, just thinking. - she handed the lady the tickets, holding Bucky’s hand as he led her inside the airplane.

Y/N was lucky to be used to first class, she spent in life in it but for Bucky it was a jarring new experience. His parents used to be well off, better than most however they were never well enough to afford flying anywhere. The closest he’d been to flying was in military helicopters but all his experience to commercial flying had been watching on magazines but even this looked so different. It looked like a perfect first class bedroom in a five star hotel with individual little places for each passenger and some for couples which he guessed was one for the two of them. As they approached their cabin, a polished dressed lady signalled them inside their own seats. She looked at Bucky who had star filled eyes as he noticed all the comfort of his seat.

- Is this how you travel? - he sat down by the window, looking at the small bottles of water, juices and fun sized treats. - Now I know why you travel so much. It’s like a damn hotel room here.

- Peanut M&M’s. - she grabbed one of the snacks from his side. - I believe you’ll be donating those to me.

- That’s a travesty, princess. I cannot believe you prefer those with peanuts

- Peanuts are great.

- Unless you’re allergic to them.

- You’re not allergic to peanuts. Steve would’ve told me if you were and I saw you eat a peanut energy bar yesterday. - she crossed her arms.

- First, I hate peanuts so it’s almost as if I were allergic to them. Second, KIND bars don’t count, you know how good they are, they add that little caramel drizzle.

- I guess we’re gonna have more than my nephews and nieces for a picky eater this Christmas. - she laughed, picking the remote to shuffle through whatever the company offered. Bucky leaned on her shoulder, leaving a kiss on it right before he did. - Thank you for coming with me.

- That’s not a problem, princess. Besides, who would guard you if I were not to come?

- Is this overtime then, Mr. Barnes? - she looked down at him, his childish yet charming smile whenever he meant to tease her which he so easily could do both meanings of the word. - We should prepare for take off.

It couldn’t be too different from take off in the quinjet. Bucky had done it once after the train incident but it always brought him back to it. He wasn’t like this and it pained him that the slightest of turbulences in any travels now made him feel like a kid. He didn’t use to be like this, he was fearless, going on the Cyclone time and time again and now ... now he was a shell of a man afraid of take off. He shouldn’t be afraid, it was not his role, right? He knew things were different then and were different now but he always wanted to be strong, strong for her as if any insecurity would throw her away. He knew it didn’t, Bucky knew Y/N was there to stick around and didn’t care about what the war and HYDRA had done to him but he cared. Bucky wanted to be her hero, her safe harbour and with this ...

His mind shattered into snowflakes as she held his hand, the captain’s voice muffled as the plane gathered speech. Y/N never hand cold hands or a cold touch, she was just warm, a little ray of sunshine burning his icy exterior and forcing him to see the beauty of winter. Bucky clearly mostly got distracted by her own beauty but her holding his hand, the rings on her fingers which she had gathered from little shops along the street against his hand, made him want to remove the dagger he had stuck on himself so he could feel pain forevermore.

The plane move upwards, both of them being pulled against their seats by the laws of physics on an endless climb and he still had his eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness.

- Buck. - her finger caressed his jaw. - Look out the window.

Bucky peaked open one of his eyes, looking out the window near him to see a full blue sky, completely different from the dark skies of the winter filled New York they had just left.

- We fly above the clouds. Isn’t it beautiful? - she leaned against his shoulder.

- You see this everytime?

- Unless I’m flying at night, yeah. Sunsets and risings are particularly stunning.

- Now what?

- Now we wait for round 6 to 7 hours. We can put a movie on, maybe. Whatever you’d like.

Bucky took to shuffling through the movie catalogue himself. Some of the movies he’d never heard about and some he’d heard from Sam or from Steve’s list of movies he had to watch yet he never did. Capitan America himself stuck to the old classics, the movies they used to sneak through the backdoor of the theatre. He himself liked the classics too and Y/N, as a film/acting major herself, also had a soft spot for them. Bucky’s favourite was the Wizard of Oz, despite later knowing how controversial filming had been, yet he couldn’t help but always remember the wonder on his sister’s face and his own wonder as he watched the vivid colours. He could still feel it now, however the movie ended and soon the food came in and he found himself bored. There wasn’t much he could do on a plane and he found himself jealous of the 5 year old running up and down the cabin, despite most of Y/N’s laughter.

He covered himself in the company’s blanket and snuggled against the pillow and still he couldn’t sleep. Y/N on the other hand had fallen asleep the moment she pulled the leg rest, wrapped around in her blanket, face facing his which gave Bucky the excuse to look at her while she slept. Bucky always found it wildly amusing how she slept, lips slightly puckered, eyes fluttering until she fell in deep and hands fisting the blanket up to her chin. Eventually, Bucky got frustrated, moving around in his seat to find a comfortable position. How come he couldn’t find a comfortable position on a first class seat?

- Buck ... - she groaned, opening her eyes. - Stop moving around.

- I’m sorry, princess. I’m just ... so bored. How do you do this?

- I sleep. - she placed the blanket on her lap. - Why don’t you get something else to eat?

- How many hours left?

- You don’t wanna know. - she rubbed the sleep of her eyes, Bucky still laid against his seat, blanket on his lap, head against the head rest. Y/N started thinking about how to entertain him until her gaze fell onto his lap. Looking around the cabin was quiet, no cabin crew or passengers on their feet, just a calm cabin.

She moved closer to him, head against her shoulder, facade of a glistening angel on a renaissance painting. Her fingers traced the soft finish of his blanket, the embodied company name until her fingers were under the soft fabric. She slide her hand under his shirt, feeling his warm skin as her hand travelled downwards towards the Hugo Boss boxers he wore, fingers hooking on the waistband. Bucky swallowed dry, wondering if he had finally gone to sleep and this was finally a good dream or if his sweet, innocent girlfriend was actually about to do what his mind was rushing to as her fingers wrapped around his softened member. He grunted, looking at her like she was a fever dream, hips mindlessly thrusting into her soft warm hand. He would say there was no better feeling, had it not been for the fact he had been inside of her.

Y/N bite her lip, insecurely swiping her thumb over the tip, his pre cum dripping onto it. She didn’t know what she was doing, mostly going by the erotica she had read and seen before, guiding herself by his low sounds, mumbled by his own hand which laid against his own mouth. She looked up at him, cerulean eyes looking at the ceiling as if all his strength would break loose were he to look at her and she thought that was the most gorgeous he’d look. She straight herself up, pushing his hand away from his mouth to start kissing him, something which would look rather innocent to anyone who passed by. Her kiss was warm, hot and sinful, much more different than the shy ones she would lay on him each morning yet he guessed it matched with her movements, fast and tighter against his cock. He tried to remain still, allow her to do what she wanted to do but his body had a different idea, hips thrusting and gyrating against her hand like some idiot teenager as her mouth lowered to kiss his pulse point. His breathe quickened, coming into staccatto as her movement quickened. The environment was blurry and all he could think about and hear were her movements and his body shuddering until he was spurting thick ropes of white liquid onto her hand and his breathe came out knocked as if he had finished a race.

She cleaned her palm with a tissue, bringing her fingers up to her cherry tinted lips from her chapstick, disappearing within the plumpness of them. He swore he could cum again just from that sight. As he tried to regain his breathe from the latter event, she gave him a shy smile, pushing her blanket up to her chin. Whatever she did to him, whatever release she had given him had made him comfortable enough on that cloud nine that sent him into sleeping, only awaking once the plane wheels hit British soil.

It was dark, around 9PM the captain had said and Bucky himself thought the trip was over until both of them disembarked onto the airport which was a completely different world. Had it not been by Y/N’s unwillingness to spend more time in an airport, he would’ve possibly stood behind taking pictures yet once she spotted a man with a sheet with her name written in, she had his hand on hers and dragged him up to it.

Bucky had been in London, he remembered it from the war and some buildings were the same yet everything was brighter. His eyes shone against the decorations, wondering how bigger they could get and Y/N took great pleasure in seeing him so happy. All she wanted was to make him happy, all she wanted was to see him happy. The taxi driver stopped in front of her childhood home which gladly always seemed to look the same with christmas lights and garlands. Both of them step out the car and the nerves finally hit Bucky. How do you meet someone’s parents? How do you meet the person who just gave you a handjob’s parents and make a good impression? How could he make a good impression? He was a hundred year old never aging man with a metal arm dating the little rose that everyone put on an altar. He didn’t belong. Maybe he could stop her, maybe he could convince her not to ring the bell except she was already ringing the bell and the door was opening up.

A short woman in a white jumper and jeans opened the door. She had Y/N’s eyes, the same eyes Bucky would recognise anywhere and based by the tight hug she gave Y/N, he would guess she was his mother.

- Mum, this is Bucky. - she held Bucky’s hand. What should he do? Should he wave?

- Oh my, you’re tall. I thought that with a nickname like that you’d be small. Oh, here I am again rambling. We are so happy here, you know, you’re the first man Y/N brings home.

- Mum!

- What? It’s true. You’re my oldest child and only now have you brought a man. Aunt Petunia is really proud of you.

- Mum!

- Come in, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? Come meet the family.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir

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alia-turin-fanfiction · 3 years

Note

I love your writing so what do you say about writing a fic where Caranthir and Imlerith live in a double marriage with one girl? How a day would look like for them?

Pretty please

Hi Nonnie. So I'm actually not sure if I can really go down that path and I will tell you why - Imlerith and Caranthir are the two creatures that I cannot being 'tied' down in a marriage, let alone in one where they share. In my own HC if they are bot attracted to a woman to the level where they would be willing to spend forever and ever with her, they both would be very possessive (in different away) and even obsessive.

However with that said, I do totally see them sharing someone if no feelings are involved so if that is around your ally (and I think it is) read below.

Warning: NSFW, asphyxia

Caranthir watched as Imlerith was whispering something in the servant’s ear and she somehow managed to giggled and blush at the same time. He found that an interesting combination, giggling would imply some sort of entertainment, blushing - embarrassment. How could you be entertained and embarrassed at the same time?

The two of them had been drinking and talking in one of the common areas in the palace. Imlerith was doing most of the drinking and talking as per usual Caranthir was keeping his thoughts mostly to himself. The servant girl had walked in and out of the room a few times, bringing drinks and excusing herself out until the next time she walked in. Every time she appeared Imlerith would look at her as if he had just found his next meal. Caranthir knew very well what would follow. He had witnessed that more times than he wanted to remember, with servants, just some random tavern girl or even a nobleman’s daughter.

The girl was already sitting in Imlerith’s lap and he was placing soft kisses down her neck. That was something Caranthir would never understand, neither from Imlerith, nor from Eredin...what was the point of teasing her, she was obviously willing, might as well move onto the main event and not waste time. At the end of the day it wasn’t love, for anyone involved and this will most likely be the first and last time for everyone involved. But while he viewed that more as a business transaction, he had a need, the woman had something that could satisfy the need, he was aware that mostly everyone else did not view it that way.

“I will leave you to it.” he finally said as he finished his drink and got off his chair.

“Wait.” Imlerith said as he almost moaned in the girl’s neck. “Join us. You want him to join us, right?” he asked her, but not him. He didn’t want to join them. Why would he even be interested in that? The girl looked at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining and then she nodded. She was pretty, he could not deny that. Long dark hair, big eyes, if anything Imlerith knew how to pick them.

“Not interested.” Caranthir was about to step away as Imlerith started taking off the dress from the servant. Her dark hair falling over naked shoulders, her body being exposed to him, with Imlerith’s large hands ravishing her tender skin. Despite his words he watched, his eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. Imlerith smiled and as annoying as that was, Caranthir could not move.

Caranthir made a step back to his chair and sat down, the tightness between his legs becoming a bit too obvious.

“I meant closer.” Imlerith finally said as he had completely undressed the servant.

“I think I am fine where I am.” Caranthir smirked. “You going to fuck her, or talk to me?”

Imlerith laughed. He wasn’t sure why Caranthir had decided to play but whatever. The kid could certainly use some fun time to get rid of the massive stick up his ass. He knew very well why he was keeping his distance, he knew that getting him actively engaged in that whole thing would be close to impossible.

“Let’s show him what he is missing.” Imlerith smiled as he slid his middle finger in the servant and she moaned. She was already so wet he was finding it hard to take it slow and wanted to just throw her on the table and fuck her unril the wood could not take anymore and crushed under the two of them. His free hand grabbed her throat and made her look up, exposing her body for Caranthir who was just sitting there with his usual bored expression. Imlerith pushed a second finger in her, feeling the tightness as she started moaning louder. Humans were so small and fragile, something he found entertaining. He could probably wrap his arms around her and squeeze the life out of her if he wanted, she wouldn’t even be able to struggle against his grip, He chuckled. He pushed a third finger in her, her legs violently kicking against his, her body trying to arch in every possible direction with pleasure. Caranthir was still sitting in his chair, watching, but not moving. Sometimes Imlerith could swear the man was of ice or was an actual corpse deprived from any feeling that could make him feel alive.

Imlerith was finding it harder to control himself. As much as he wanted to test how far the girl could take it or when Caranthir’s cold demeanor would break, he couldn’t wait forever. He pulled his fingers out of her and she moaned in displeasure, tired eyes looking at him in confusion but he gave her a wide grin. He pushed her against the table, her fragile body slamming hard against the wood. She tried to turn her head toward him, but Imlerith grabbed her hair and forced her to look at Caranthir as he used his free hand to pull his pants down. He didn’t give her any warning as he pushed his length in her, her back arching from the pressure.

“You had to pick the one place that would hide the view.” Caranthir chuckled and before Imlerith could understand what was happening the table moved underneath the two of them and slammed against the wall to his left. The servant almost fell, but his reaction was faster and he grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back and making her bend over.

“Well, enjoy.” Imlerith grinned and increased his pace positioning her hands so he can wrap one of his hands around both of her wrists. Her whole frame was so small, even like that he had a stable grip on her and if he squeezed hard enough he could probably crush her wrists for good.

She could barely realize what had just happened, one moment her body was pressed firmly against the table, next moment the table was gone and all that supported her was Imlerith’s grip around her hands. As much as the position was uncomfortable - her hands being pulled back, her body bent, her feet the only point touching the ground she could not complain. With every thrust of the larger elf her mind sank deeper in the feeling of pleasure. She did her best to lift her head and look the sorcerer in the eyes. One eye, the other one was hidden under his pale hair but she could still see the shine in it. She could not believe how different these two were, Imlerith had pulled her to himself and she was more than happy to oblige. He was touching her, kissing her, even when he was rough, the contact with her body never broke. Caranthir had been sitting there all that time, she wasn’t blind she could see the excitement between his legs, but he did not even reach with his hand there, he just looked at the two of them unmoved. Servants talked. She knew the Red Riders were different in almost every aspect. Scarier, rougher around the edges...Imlerith was definitely the later, the Navigator….servants talked. One of the things they said was that whatever they did to Navigators to allow them to travel through space and time broke their minds. She wondered if that was the case.

Suddenly Imlerith let go of her hands and she leaned forward, her palms hitting the stone floor the rest of her body following. She turned back annoyed, but she had no moment to even form a thought as he was back on her, this time his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer with every thrust he made. She could almost forget the other man in the room. Imlerith slid one hand between her legs but the moan of pleasure that was about to come out of her mouth suddenly died. Her throat felt tighter, air was just not flowing to her lungs as it should have. She turned toward the sorcerer in panic and for the first time tonight she saw an actual grin of satisfaction on his lips. His right hand was raised at his eyes level and his finger was making circular motion. With every circle his finger did she could feel the tightness around her throat growing. It felt like rope, but it was also freezing cold, she could not decide what was more uncomfortable, the tightness around her airway or the chill. Her mind was divided between Imlerith pushing her closer to her orgasm with every thrust and circle of his own fingers and the sheer panic that she might be strangled to death. Eventually her body won over her mind, she came around Imlerith, she would have probably screamed if she had enough air to do so, but all she managed to do was collapse down as the elf behind her came violently.

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, but as soon as the world made a bit more sense she realised that the tightness around her throat was gone.

“Come here.” The Navigator said and she tried to get up, but he made a dissatisfied sound. “Hands and knees.”

She didn’t need more details to understand what he ment. She crawled to him as Imlerith made a mocking laugh from behind. For a second she had forgotten her place, but they were both too quick to remind her.

When she reached him she knelt between his legs, a screeching sound distracted her - Imlerith pulled the table almost to the spot where it was and he sat on it, naked, his chest still rising and falling rapidly from the effort he had been inputting just seconds ago.

“Come on.” the larger elf encouraged. “Show him what he missed.”

She hesitated. Imlerith had been...easy. She knew he was dangerous, she knew his reputation, but she also did not need to guess what he wanted. The Navigator…

She pushed herself up and reached for his face, trying to remove some of the hair that was covering it, but he grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard. Her skin still tender from Imlerith’s grip she groaned. Despite the fact she stopped her she could see the scars covering his skin. They weren’t like Imlerith’s - his were blade or similar marks, Caranthir...that was something else.

“He grows on you despite his ugly face.” Imlerith mocked from behind.

She wasn’t sure what to do, Imlerith had kissed her before he started undressing her so she reached Caranthir's lips but this time his hand grabbed her throat. His palm felt cold, almost dead against her skin.

“No.” Was the only thing he said as he forced her back on her knees and positioned her head at his crotch.

She understood what he wanted, her fingers started working on the laces of his pants, her hand shaking a bit from the way Imlerith had been holding her. Once his cock was free she started licking teasingly, to her surprise the elf made no sound, she had to look at him to ensure he was even enjoying it.

“He likes it, don’t worry.” Imlerith laughed from behind her again. Just now she realised she was naked as he was watching this time pleasing the other man.

She tried to ignore the awkwardness of the situation, focusing on taking his length in her mouth as best as she could. Ignoring the lack of response. She moved her head up and down for a few minutes until she felt a hand in her hair. She tried to look up, but Caranthir had not moved an inch from where he was, his hands relaxed. Imlerith, however, was kneeling next to her, his fingers buried in her hair. He started controlling her motion, pushing her head as deep as possible until tears started coming to her eyes.

“Can’t even make her please you…” his words came out somewhat distant and the Navigator’s response was a grunt. She could feel him fighting with his own need to puck in her mouth, and the more he struggled the harder Imlerith pushed on her head until eventually she could taste salty liquid on her tongue.

Only then Imlerith released his grip and she found herself again on her hands and knees gasping for air. As she was trying to ease her body, the Navigator got up, she lifted her eyes and watched his tattooed fingers tie his pants again.

“Leaving?” Imlerith asked behind her as he petted her head almost gently.

“I’m sure you can continue without me.”

#my writing

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ladyyatexel · 3 years

Text

I Went On A Manga Binge

So you don't have to

For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.

I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.

Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.

Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.

I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.

Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)

I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.

That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha

Ryou Bakura.

Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself

On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.

Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.

Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.

Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.

Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.

Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.

Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"

Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.

Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes

Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.

I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.

Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow

Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #there you go i can't imagine any other way you would decide was necessary to tag this #perhaps now that i have thrown this up i can #something #i don't know how i was going to finish that sentence #shut up lady

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Harringrove tag game! by @lovebillyhargrove

I was tagged by @mrsblackruby! tysm!! <3

1. Do they get together BEFORE MF possessing Billy or AFTER shit goes down? (Or maybe DURING😲)

Typically I say before, like at around Christmas time in ‘84. I think anybody in a small town puts aside character prejudices around the holidays and tries to make those connections with everyone, so I’ve always felt, especially since the fight was literally only a month before, that Steve would reach out to Billy the night of the Snowball and things would, well, snowball from there.

2. Who kisses who first?

Definitely Steve. I firmly stand by the hc that Billy’s never kissed a boy before Steve, and maybe Steve hasn’t either, but he’s the romantic, no way is he going to let Billy kiss him first.

3. Where do they have their first sex? (Location) (HJs and BJs count)

I don’t really have a solid answer for this? But definitely somewhere very spur of the moment, maybe somebody’s couch or the locker rooms?

4. Who says 💖 I LOVE YOU 💖 first?

Imma say Billy. Opposite of my last answer, I don’t feel like either of them would say they love each other on accident or like, in the moment. I think their first I love you’d would be very very controlled. I also think Billy has less experience with actually being in love, so when the time comes that he’s actually mustered up the courage to say it to Steve, I think he’s super nervous and practices the perfect scenario in his head a dozen times. It’s definitely not blurted out.

5. I believe this fandom is way past having hard feelings about it, so

BottomSteve! or BottomBilly?

I don’t have a strong opinion either way, but typically, I prefer bottom!Steve. No particular reason, that’s just the way I tend to read things!

6. Do they give gifts to each other?

Absolutely! Billy doesn’t have the disposable income to run out and buy Steve new things every time he wants to give him something, so I think he does a really cheesy like, giving him a kiss as a present and making a big deal out of it.

Steve is sort of the same way, in that he doesn’t like to give Billy material things, because he doesn’t want him to think he’s being pretentious or trying to hold his wealth over Billy’s head like he’s his mom or something, so he only gives Billy personal things. Old pilled t-shirts to wear to bed and a blanket to keep on the couch in his room that smells like him. Things like that.

They also try to make eachother things as presents, like food or little knick knacks in art class, but they always fail miserably and think it’s really funny when all they have to show is a smoking mess.

7. Where do they end up living? California, Chicago, Hawkins... Idk .. Alaska??)))) Any other location?

I honestly think they stay in Hawkins. I don’t think after everything Billy would be able to leave Max behind, and I also think that Steve would like having a connection to where he grew up, even if bad things happened there. If they did leave though, I see them going down south, maybe tourist trap Tennessee?

8. What are their future jobs?

In my mind that very much depends on if we’re following canon and this is post Starcourt or like, if it’s a whole new AU. Because after that I don’t think Billy would actually ever be physically well enough to work again. I know it’s a pretty unpopular opinion, bc the general hc is that he bounces back within a year or so with some scars (which is cool! I’m not knocking that I’m just sayin) but I think he'd be permanently disabled, on oxygen support 24/7, and just with all sorts of health complications from, you know, literally having a gaping hole in his chest, that would make it impossible for him to work. In that sort of scenario I usually think of Steve as a being teacher or an artist, something that he doesn’t have very long work hours or can do from home so he can be there to take care of Billy.

If we’re going with like, a no upside down or a Billy is never hurt au, I think he stays in Hawkins and just works in some sort of a mom and pop until he’s the new manager, like at an antique store maybe?

(p.s. stay tuned for an upcoming fic about Billy working in a fix-it shop!!)

As for Steve, I feel like he wouldn’t ever be able to settle on one career when he didn’t have limitations. I don’t really know what he’d eventually decide is his calling, maybe design of some sort? Jewelry making?

This is a hard question, I don’t really see them as being tied down to one career indefinitely, but I do know I don’t see either of them ever working desk jobs.

9. Who's a better cook?

Neither of them. Billy wasn’t allowed in the kitchen growing up because Neil said it’s a woman's place, and Steve is just god awful at following directions, like, can’t tell the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon or preheat the oven awful. They just eat takeout and like, cold sandwiches literally all the time until someone (Joyce) notices and teaches them how to cook on the weekends.

10. Steve Hargrove or Billy Harrington?

Billy Harrington. I don’t see him wanting to be a Hargrove anymore. He has no positive ties to the name with his mom leaving and his dad being his dad, so I think he’d want to take Steve’s last name. Also this is kinda weird but I am VERY particular about my middle name hcs (I think it’s an ocd thing? idk) and I have an alliterative name for Steve that wouldn’t work if he was a Hargrove instead of a Harrington, so that’s also part of the reason.

11. What's Max's reaction when she hears they're together?

I think probably just like, confusion. Not over Billy being with a boy, but over that boy being Steve. Like, she doesn’t know Steve well, but she knows he’s the responsible big brother to Dustin, and that’s the exact opposite of what her brother is like, so it catches her off guard. She’s definitely a little gossip though, wanting all the not-gross details about Steve from her brother. She’s basically just a little sister about it, I guess.

12. Describe in ONE SENTENCE Hopper's reaction when he hears the names Hargrove and Harrington mentioned together?

Not again.

13. Does Robin like Billy OR does Robin hate Billy?

I think she likes him. I have a little hc that she and him were together in an underground pre-gsa kinda thing in high school. She pretends she can’t stand him, but the two of them are quick best friends. (this might just be me but I think the two of them together would give statler and waldorf vibes)

14. What about Dustin?

Dustin I think actually thinks Billy is really cool. Like, he’s like a little double agent, hearing from Max all the annoying things about Billy, and from Steve the good things. He’ll gag if Steve gets too mushy over him and he’ll definitely join in with Max in calling Billy gross, and he also absolutely gives Billy a (very non-intimidating. he’s too soft) shovel talk, but I think he really likes and looks up to Billy as like, his other big brother.

15. Fav Harringrove AU?

Oh gosh, I can’t even pick. I think I like childhood friends aus best? They’re really fun to play with and it always ends up being super sweet. I’m a big fan of soulmates too for kind of the same reasons. I like mushy stuff.

16. Billy+Camaro=...??? (Not strictly Harringrove, but I can't not to ..)

I honestly don’t think Billy cares about the camaro that much. He’d be sad when it gets totaled because that was his only way of getting around and also his first car, but I don’t think the car itself has that much value to him. I mean, he treats it with absolutely zero respect, jumping curbs and driving too fast and slamming on those breaks. The camaro is just a car. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’ll tag: @lifegaurd-hargrove85! @deardmvz! and @strangebrainrot! no pressure! and as usual, if anybody else sees this and wants to participate, feel free!

#tag game!!#long post #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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A machine that feels:

One does, one doesn’t | SHORT | PJM x MYG x Reader | ❤️🌩🔞❗️🤖

Pairing: platonic(?) PJM x Reader, platonic(?) MYG x Reader, JJK x reader

Genre: romance, Android!AU, Angst!!, mature

Warnings: past sexwork (it’s only a tiny bit mentioned but still), poor robo boys were treated like trash, but it’s okay they’re in good hands now, confusion, clumsy yoongi- but more like verbally clumsy you’ll get it trust me, timid jimin, he’s so soft, do I smell romance blooming hmm...

Summary: seeing Jungkooks drastic changes into a right direction, both Hoseok and Taehyung decide to bring their Androids, Yoongi and Jimin, two former pleasure bots to the shelter- to introduce them to you and Kook, and maybe help them recover just as great as the military Android did. But there’s the issue; while jimin wants to learn how to feel, Yoongi doesn’t seem to be too eager to learn..

Jimin likes to feel.

It’s somewhat of a little reminder that, against what’s always said about him and his kind, he is actually alive, and doesn’t just pretend to be. He doesn’t understand most of the emotions he’s gone through in the past, the fear of openly expressing them still present, even though he knows that he’s not forced to be a certain way anymore. He’s still filled with bitter fear, and embarrassment whenever he interprets something wrong.

The only way he knows how to express his emotions was physical, after all.

It’s still heavily frustrating to him that Taehyung doesn’t want that from him. Jimin isn’t sure why the young man bought him in the first place; his whole purpose was physical pleasure, so why was this person telling him that he’s more than that?

He tries to make sense of it, but he can’t find any conclusion that seems logical for him. He knows he’s bad at household chores, barely managing to operate the rice cooker at this point. He’s bad at doing laundry, since his eyes had been damaged and can’t distinguish color that well anymore. He’s not very helpful at helping his new owner around the animal shelter either- too fearful of hurting the dogs and cats and little pets around to really do anything by himself.

He wants to be helpful, but he can’t think of a way he could ever be.

And it fills him with confusing emotions he doesn’t understand, things he detects as sadness and dissatisfaction and disappointment in himself. He just wants to understand.

He just wants to feel.

Yoongi however, doesn’t.

He knows what’s hate, knows what’s anger, knows what’s frustration; his past owner having joked around that the hit to his head had knocked some human sense into him by accident.

And he hates it.

He doesn’t get why Jimin craves to understand emotions so much. He’d been totally comfortable being used every day back at the place he’d been employed- it had been irrational that he had suddenly felt something like disgust at being touched by strangers. He doesn’t know himself why he suddenly started to hate physical contact, doesn’t understand why his body suddenly didn’t listen to basic commands anymore.

Maybe he had been broken when blow had hit his head.

Because there’s moments he feels guilty about something he can’t seem to pinpoint. When he gets into a argument with Jimin or Hoseok, he tends to use harsh words, and it doesn’t hurt him immediately like he knows it should. It bites him back way later however, when he has to observe the aftermath of his actions and words used, and even though he knows he has all the right to talk like he does, he still feels guilt. He still feels sadness. He still feels..

Tired.

He’s an Android, so simply charging should help his body regain energy again. At first he’d thought his batteries might have been damaged as well, but their capacity was still at 97%- a healthy amount for an Android his age.

So why did he feel tired all the time? Exhausted even?

He really didn’t want to feel.

Jimin watches the small puppies with worried optics as they all excitedly run towards him, instantly trying to crawl all over him as they Nop on his clothes or play with their litter mates around him. “He likes you.” A female voice comments, and his system instantly craves to know who it belongs to.

Turning around, he spots a female human, smiling at him gently as she opens the gate carefully, stepping inside the playpen the puppies are running around as she sits down close to him. It feels weird to have her so close, for some odd reason it makes him nervous.

He’s nervous often nowadays.

“What’s your name?” She asks, and jimin swallows, trying to sort out his current system operations and scans before he stutters.

“J-M095.” He answers, because that’s what his name was. But you simply giggle. Did he say something wrong?

“So you’re Jimin, yeah? Taehyung had told me about you.” She says, and he nods. If you’ve heard about him, you know of his purpose- and he’d learned that humans weren’t too fond of conversing much with a pleasure bot. “It’s nice to meet you.” You suddenly say however, bowing a bit as you still smile friendly. “I’m Y/N.” You tell him, and he nods, throat suddenly dry.

He has to avert his eyes, your visuals too strong for his internal system to fully support at the moment. You know what he is, right? Why were you so nice to him? He was just an Android-

“Baby!” A Voice says, and Jimin turns, spotting a young man- no, an Android, giving you something. A water bottle? “Please rehydrate. You have not consumed any water in the last 52 Minutes.” He says, and you get up, accepting the bottle as the Android leans closer until his dark hairs can touch your face-

A kiss?

Jimi a optics move frantically before he hastily averts them, feeling weird to have witnessed this. He knows what that gesture was, what it meant, but he wouldn’t have thought that you.. but another scan of the other Android just tells him that it’s a military model with a rebooted system. Yet when his eyes follow the dark haired Android named JJK walk over to the bigger dogs he’s even more confused.

Why is he petting them?

Now, again, jimin knows what this gesture means to humans. But androids can’t feel satisfaction or other positive feelings from simply touching an animals coat.

Right?

“Aren’t they cute?” You comment, and jimin perks up, before averting his eyes again.

“I.. guess they do possess all distinctive features to be considered as such, yes.” He says, and you notice the very unique sound of his voice. There’s a very mild metallic undertone to it that you think you could fix if he’d ever let you- and one of his optics also seems to be faulty, as it moves quite slow and erratically compared to the other.

“Hmhm.” You say. “But do you think they’re cute?” You ask, and Jimin looks at the puppies. There’s several running around, playing and roughhousing with their brothers and sisters. He’s more comfortable with the lone one currently clumsily climbing into his lap however. It’s shy and seems to shake a little, watching her mates with a sense of slight fear. “You can pet her. I think it would help her feel less scared.” You say gently, and Jimins hand slowly comes down, touching the soft fur of the puppy, jumping away a bit as it looks up, trying to lick at his palm. He tried again, and feels a weird sense of comfort run through his system.

He likes this.

“You’re cute too, Jimin.“ You day, and Jimin suddenly looks up, furrowing his brows. It’s the first real glimpse of his face you get. „I know you’ll say no, but humans think of things as cute when they appeal to them in a certain way too.“ you explain, your past experiences with Jungkook helping you to explain these things to the Android in front of you.

“Taehyung says I can no longer offer my services.” He hesitantly says, and watches as your cheeks turn a bit red in embarrassment. He likes the giggle that escapes you however.

“I- that’s-“ you start, before you clear your throat. „And that’s true. You should decide on your own with whom you want to connect like this. You’re your own person.” You say, and Jimin nods.

Maybe he wasn’t yet.

But maybe he was becoming his own person.

“I do not think that a bunch of old felines can fix the errors in my system” Yoongi comments, as he’s practically shoved into the cat-room by Hoseok. He flips down in the middle of the room like a child throwing a tantrum, simply sitting with his arms and legs crossed, uncaring and passive as he hears Hoseok sigh.

“Just.. try.” He mumbles, before his presence leaves.

Yoongi is alone for a while.

His scans show several bodies inside the room with him, but nothing moves for a while as he waits. If he lets himself think about it, if he were to be a cat, he wouldn’t get close to him neither. There’s no reason to; he has no food to offer, doesn’t know how to properly play with cats, and they all seem too old to enjoy these things either.

But he feels connected to them, in a way.

Because he too, is an old model with outdated soft- and hardware, that no one wants anymore. Maybe they should built shelters for androids? But then again, he could also simply be scrapped for parts as a last purpose. He doesn’t understand why that has not happened yet.

“Oh?” A female voice sounds, and suddenly, there’s movement.

The old bodies awake, stretching their limbs before they start to move towards the origin of the sound. “They like you.” He comments, and your body comes into the range of his sight, as you sit down in front of him. He’s not interested in humans, but he does note that you are a very visually appealing person. You nod, before putting some treats into his lap. He doesn’t know if he should be offended or confused by the action. “What’s the purpose of that?”he asks, before picking up the small bag.

“They’re a little wary of you- you’re new, and they haven’t had the best experience with people until now. So-“ you say, opening the bag for him when you notice him struggling. His body was weak these days- but he was glad that you weren’t commenting on it. “Sometimes you gotta help them a bit. Lure them in, you know?” You say with a smile, before you show him how you put a treat on your knee, bringing the cats closer.

He mimics that action.

He watches them intently, until he hears you giggle. “You’re making them nervous if you watch them like a predator.” You say, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels shy, but his system doesn’t seem to be in his control suddenly. “What’s your name?” You ask, and he scoffs a little.

“You already know who I am, and why I was brought here. Your question is simply used to lead to something you call ‘smalltalk’ which is something I’m not interested in participating.” He says, and immediately wants to slap himself. He doesn’t know why he feels the urge to do it, but he does- the guilt flowing into his veins as he awaits you leaving. But he can only sense you nod.

“That’s okay. We can just be quiet then.” You say, and his system halts for a second or two. Because he doesn’t want you to be silent- he likes the sound of your voice, he just doesn’t want to talk. There’s no input he could give, because all his words ever did was hurt and offend.

And even though he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t want you to feel neither of those things.

“You’re..” he starts, suddenly feeling weirdly hesitant. “In an intimate relationship with one of the androids here. JJK.” He states, and you nod, with no hesitation he could detect. You didn’t seem shameful at all about it.

“What about it?” You ask, and he slowly reaches out his hand towards a scruffy looking cat that seems weak on his legs. He slowly leans forward to sniff the hand of the Android however, as Yoongis optics watch the scene intently.

“That’s not his purpose.” He states, and you nod again.

“He doesn’t have one these days.” You say, and yoongis brows furrow as his face shows confusion. You decide to explain as the scruffy cat suddenly bumps his head into the palm of the Android, who begins to scratch the cats neck as if on autopilot. “He can decide on his own. The relationship is because we both love each other a lot- I’d never force anything on him.” You say, and Yoongi nods in confirmation as the other cats slowly brush their body’s against his back and knee.

They’re becoming comfortable around him.

And he can’t help but feel as if it’s because he’s comfortable with you.

“This is very inconvenient.” Yoongi comments, as Jimins worried expression shows how sorry he feels for the words of the older Android.

“He doesn’t mean it like that-“ he starts, but Yoongi cuts him off.

“I do.” He says, and you laugh as Jungkook brings you some parts you’ve requested.

“It’s fine. I know it’s not as professional as it could be.” You say, and Jungkook sits down close to you as his arm places itself around your middle while he watches you work on Yoongi’s arm.

“It’s better than nothing. Your physical strength had been declining to a mere 32%- after swapping these parts you’ll be up to almost 80% again.” He comments. “You should express a bit more gratefulness considering this is done out of pure generosity.” He says, icy blue optics watching Yoongis red ones.

“Please don’t fight-“ Jimin says, and Jungkook turns around to face the shorter Android.

“We are- not fighting though?” He says, and you giggle again. Everyone turns towards you.

“Guys please let me work, you can all be cute later.” You say.

“Your Home is very nice.” Jimin says as he sits on the couch with a cup of warm tea in his hands. He likes the feeling of warmth against his skin.

“It’s very small.” Yoongi deadpans, and Jimin looks at him instantly, as Yoongi grumbles out. “But it.. fits the definition of a ‘home’ quite well, I suppose..”

The corners of Jungkooks lips turn upwards into a small smile as he looks at you next to him. “It is a home.” He confirms.

And maybe, it’ll become a home to them too, one day.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #jungkook #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #yoongi x reader #min yoongi

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thgreatestblue · 4 years

Text

false god [part III]

➜ pairing: kokushibou x fem!reader ➜ warnings: smut, fluff, manga spoilers, angst, no happy ending. ➜ words: 7.8k ➜ a/n: the third and final part of this fic is finally here! it brings me a lot of joy to know that there are people out there that like my work even when my english isn't perfect. thank you to everyone who waited and supported this fic, i really appreciate it. this chapter is looong but i hope you enjoy it! ➜ ao3

➜ false god [part I] / false god [part II]

summary: Then, you look at him, really look at him. Past those six eyes, beyond the black, the red and yellow; for who he once was. Maybe in another life you would be graced with the luck to meet him again, under different circumstances, being able to love him for the person he truly was.

After so many years of living in the dark, the idea of enjoying the night as much as you enjoyed the day was still foreign. As the day shifted, you looked forward to watch the curtains of the stage closing for the sun, so the moon would have its chance to perform another beautiful night; stars twinkling and dancing between clouds, glowing in the dark — it was now an endless battle for your favoritism.

There was something about the moon; its form so intrinsic and majestic. You would watch from your window how bright and graceful the celestial body moved around the sky. How it would cast a dreamy gleam as the night went by. The quiet sounds of the animals; crickets and owls filling the silence with their everyday songs.

It was a beautiful phenomenon on this side of the world. Or at least, on this side of life you were finally experiencing. Counting stars to sleep, the gentle but cold breeze of the night, the fragile silence that seems untouchable even with the nocturne activity. It was peaceful, and that’s what you’ve wanted for so long that everyday was a day to enjoy life by itself.

Or maybe partially, because some nights the last thing you did was contemplating the moon in the sky. Instead, you would be contemplating another one; right on earth, at the touch of your fingers. At Kokushibou’s mercy, you would give him anything he wanted — and you were, oh, so willing to provide. Even though you had a job to do, now most of the time, you would find yourself making your way to his bedroom, only getting out of it hours later.

Kokushibou fucked like he fought. It was raw and rough, borderline animalistic — which you suspect was just his nature acting under his lust, he was a Demon after all. You didn’t mind though, you actually really liked how carnal and real the act felt. And mostly, how everytime after sex you would lay down, feeling good and satisfied. Soon enough you were craving for his touch, counting the hours, the days so you could taste him again.

After some time, you learned all his preferences, all his favorite spots. You liked to see the hunger on his face when you changed things in bed, trying something new; just the greed on his eyes was enough to get you aroused. You loved the way he devoured your mouth, how he imprinted his desire on your flesh; carving you with kisses and teeth.

Not only were your neck and shoulders marked; but you could find purple and blue spots on your back, down to your breasts, inside your thighs and even on your ass — He clearly was making it difficult for you to cover up everything. At some point you stopped trying to hide the marks he left on your skin.

The other servants probably knew about your activities with him anyway, so it wasn't a secret you needed to keep. And the way Kokushibou glanced at your exposed, and pretty much marked skin for the first time while you were working still gets you all worked up — He was, without a doubt, a possessive man.

Soon enough, you started to spend more time in his bedroom than anywhere else. And because you didn't know how to explain to the servants that you’ve been having sex with him for the past few months, you choose to not talk about it at all. Pretending that nothing was happening was easier than trying to explain something that didn't really have an explanation.

Or maybe it did. And it was quite simple. You liked to be fucked by Kokushibou, and he liked to fuck you. That was all.

When it came to having sex, it was something you could do without thinking; your body moved on its own, knowing exactly what to do and what it wanted. How to pleasure both of you, something that Kokushibou seemed to like — A contrast to the old days, because he wanted you to feel good, wanted to make you come screaming his name. Which was something you were very pleased about because you couldn't take one sided relationships anymore.

However, when it came to simple interactions; like talking about the day, about the weather, or even dancing with him — another thing Kokushibou seemed to take a liking other than having sex — You were a mess, never knowing what to do, where to look at. It would make you laugh at how much those basic things left you blushing more than having his cock down your throat.

The night was prettier by the lake; the water was almost still, saving from the small bubbles from the fishes that popped on the surface from time to time. It reflected the full moon on its surface, mirroring the beauty from the sky. The wind hits your exposed legs, and even though it isn't cold, you shiver slightly.

You were wearing only a kimono and your undergarments. It wasn't an ideal way to dress when going out of the house; but sooner or later you were going to be naked, so why make it difficult to undress? When Kokushibou invited you to come see the lake that day, it was more than obvious that he didn't want to only show you the place.

“May I ask you a bold question?” You shyly say, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.

You pick one grape from the bunch you had brought and eat it to distract yourself from the nervousness on our stomach. Kokushibou didnt say it was a picnic, but you decided to make it one. The towel that you extend was soft under your skin, the food was inside a basquet and even though the man wasn't eating anything from it, you knew he would still have his meal before dawn.

“You may.” He’s sitting by your side, eyes lingering on your fingers. The warmth of the proximity was nice since you weren't wearing many clothes.

“How old are you really?” You ask hesitantly. You knew it wasn't your position to ask personal questions; yet, you couldn't help wanting to know more about the man, wanting to dwell on his deep waters; wanting to find treasures no one had the chance to see.

“Why do you want to know that?” Kokushibou blinks, eyes opening and closing in a perfect rhythm.

Although it was rude to stare, the movement would always catch your eyes, watching how even his blinks were perfectly synchronized. You once had the opportunity to watch him train, and you wanted to imprint every single minute of that day on your mind, forever carved on the brain. You had never seen someone moving so beautifully yet dangerous; how impeccable the katana cut through the air, every single muscle exposed as he shifted from a position to another — And heavens, the way he fucked you after that left you sore for the rest of the week.

“Because I'm curious?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to sound casual.

You were still working your nervousness around him when you two weren't having sex. It was a territory probably neither of you knew much about, Kokushibou taking too long to answer, and you hesitating to continue. You pick another grape, this time making sure to suck your finger in the process.

Kokushibou shifts his gaze to the lake. A beautiful swan floated around, alone in the big body of water. You watch the bird as well, the gleam from above making the white of his feathers shine under the moonlight. Silence fell between you two, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You wonder if Kokushibou was thinking about his past life, if he was trying to remember all those years he had lived.

“485 years.” He finally says.

You gag on the grape, coughing a little bit in the process. You had a suspicion that he was old, but 458 years? You look at the lonely swan again. Time must be a different concept for someone like Kokushibou, to watch seasons changing the landscape from a year to another, from snow to summer rains. People borning then dying. Heroes rising then sinking. Wars, Marriages. Life, Death. It was such a heavy number that you couldn't even fathom the idea of living for so long. Alone.

“Isn't lonely? Living for that long by yourself?” You genuinely wanted to know.

Kokushibou turns his head to look at you, bringing his hand to your face. He touches tenderly your cheek and you immediately incline your head, seeking the warmth of his skin. It was moments like this you allowed yourself to dream, just a taste of what it could be if this was another reality. You briefly close your eyes, kissing the palm of his hand.

“Sometimes it is,” His eyes hover over your face, then over your almost exposed breasts. The only thing keeping your kimono together was a sash around your waist; which was poorly tied. “Sometimes it is not.”

Truth be told, he had become bolder with his actions in the past few weeks, not restraining his touches for only the bedroom. You had a hard time trying not blushing furiously while he fucked you on the kitchen counter one night; the fear of being caught turning you on more than it should — or when he kissed your hand in front of the servants the other night after inviting you to dance.

That’s why when you got ready you thought it wouldn't hurt being bold as well. And by the way he was looking at your legs, the hem of your kimono sliding over your thighs, it was working quite well.

In a swift motion, he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap. You don’t fight against it, letting your legs straddle his thighs, gasping as your pussy rubs against his crotch, and you can feel he’s already hardening in his pants. You wrap your arms around his neck, throwing your head back to show off your neck — that it never has time to recover before having his mouth all over it again.

Kokushibou doesn't waste any more time; his hand is already tangled in your hair, yanking in sharp tugs while biting and sucking the tender but still bruised skin of your collar. The other hand is untying the knot of the sash in a quick motion. You arch against him, bucking your hips into the friction.

As soon as the kimono falls open, his mouth moves from your bruised neck down to your chest, leaving a trail of electricity at each kiss, lighting up all your body and forming a hot pool on your lower belly. He sucks one of your nipples and you roll your hips harder against him, moaning softly at his touch.

“I didn't know you liked to play with dolls, Kokushibou-dono.”

You literally jump on his lap as soon as your mind registers the voice, squealing as the embarrassment of being caught washes over you. Kokushibou is fast on his movements though, quickly grabbing the hem of the kimono to cover your breasts. You hold your arms in front of your body before taking a look at the owner of the voice.

“What are you doing here, Douma?” The cold and sharp tone of his voice is enough to cease all of the fire and lust that was still lingering on your body.

The man was standing a few steps away — at least he didn't have the audacity to come so close — His hair was so pale that it seemed silver under the moonlight; almost as long as Kokushibou too. His skin was also pretty pale. But what caught your attention was his eyes; An array of rainbow pastel tones coloring his iris; it is different from anything you’ve seen, and you'd find it pretty if it wasn't for one detail.

He was definitely a Demon. And you had to curse yourself for, more often than not, forgetting about the fact that you lived amongst them. It was so easy to forget about problems like that when all you did was house work and sex. When there was no one in sight and no real danger to remember you that the world was actually a cruel place.

You notice that Douma, as Kokushibou called, is looking at you. At this point you should’ve already been used to Demons studying you with their hunter eyes, but it’s impossible to get used when every glance was different, if Kokushibou glanced at you with desire, then Douma looked at you as his next prey, ready to rip your head off.

“Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting, it wasn't my intention!” He looks almost apologetic, but there’s something about the way he moves his features, as if it’s all mechanical; rehearsed.

“What do you want?” Kokushibou's voice cuts the night like a knife, it makes your shoulders tense. You had never heard him this angry before.

You quickly get off of him, tying up the sash of your kimono again. Your legs tremble over the stare you’re receiving. It’s cold and sadistic, the smile spreading on his face is creep, making you remember why you had to stay away from Demons in the first place.

“Hmm, I was feeling sad for losing three of our friends in such a short period of time.” He dramatically sighs, wiping away fake tears from his eyes, “I came here seeking your comfort but it seems like you have already found someone else.”

He glances at you again, and this time you can taste the danger and perverse intentions exhaling from him. You quiver slightly under his gaze, fear feeling your veins. In some way, it reminds you of Muzan; even though he never hid his intentions, somehow, having a Demon that did that on purpose was even scarier.

“If you look at her ever again I’ll cut your head off.” Kokushibou warns, getting up from the spot, his back muscles are tense, the hand around his katana is tight.

“Oh, Kokushibou-dono, you’re no fun! I was just teasing!” He laughs, putting a hand over his chest, “She’s indeed a fine piece of human, it would be a waste if something happened to her.”

It’s a lie. And both you and Kokushibou know it. However, the Demon doesn't look at you anymore, showing how important Kokushivou's position was amongst the Demons, his status turned him into a God, old and powerful. You honestly don't know if it should calm you, or make you even more alarmed.

“Y/N, wait for me in my bedroom.” He commands, walking towards the other Demon.

“Yes, Kokushibou-dono.” It’s the only thing you can say, turning around and almost running back to the house without looking back.

VI.

As the minutes ticked by, you could hear your own steps padding across the wooden floor, never stopping moving. You’ve tried to occupy your mind reading one of the books that were by the table, but the words didn't seem to make any sense, all blurry and twisted, the anxiety growing on your chest didn't make it easy either. You bite your nails again, feeling the fear creeping into your mind.

For how long have you been walking in circles?

The still lingering feeling of Douma’s predatory eyes spreads goosebumps all over your skin. He represents a different type of danger, if Muzan was violence and Kokushibou was dominance, the blonde was something as cold as ice, the type that burns your lungs when you try to breathe. His smile was just a facade; you wonder if people even believe in it — they definitely did.

However, you knew that the Demons didn't walk in groups, and they were mostly too narcissistic to even have friends. To have one coming in Kokushibou’s house was definitely a bad sign. Well, a bad sign for them. You had caught the servants whispering a few humors around the house but never paid any attention to them. Maybe you should’ve. Because now the idea of leaving this place, leaving Kokushibou, it didn't sit right in your mind — nor in your heart.

The sound of the door opening brings you to the present, immediately making you come to a stop. You hold your hands on your back, still feeling anxious about the situation — your gut telling you that something was definitely off. Holding your breath as Kokushibou steps in the room, you notice his eyes are a shade darker, jaw clenched tightly.

You anxiously wait for him to say something, however, Kokushibou doesn't even look at you. Instead, he makes his way to the table by the corner of the room, quickly pouring himself a glass of his favorite beverage. You press your lips together, feeling the tension that has spread through the room starting to suffocate you. Something was definitely wrong, but you suspect Kokushibou wasn’t going to tell you, so you don’t bother asking.

He swallows down the entire liquid in one single gulp, setting down the glass with so much force that it makes you jump by the violence of the act. Kokushibou was angry. Your mind, for the first time in months, turns on the sirens that had been long forgotten since you started being intimate with the man. They are loud in your head and you can’t ignore the way your body starts to shake slightly.

You hated the taste that it left in your mouth, hated the way your body stiffened when he moved to pour himself another drink. Hated to remember that no matter what, your life wasn't normal. It was moments like this that made you rethink everything that you’ve done up until this point — if you even had made the right decision. You take a glance from the corner of your eyes, Kokushibou is holding another empty glass staring at the wall, the muscles on his arms are tensed at a point of breaking the glass.

“I’ll leave you alone, Kokushibou-dono.” It comes out weak and hesitant, your body building up a tension that goes down to your nerves.

Kokushibou dosen’t say anything, doesn't look. And somehow you feel small, betrayed. Pressing your lips together, you close your eyes for a moment. It wasn't unusual that neither of you knew how to have a conversation, but this was just too much. You could sense the pressure of his hostility, taste the blood in your mouth. Whatever Douma told him it wasn't good news. You just hoped he wouldn't lash that angriness on you.

The thought makes you shiver, memories flooding your mind as the sound of the glass against the wooden table makes you jump again. This is bad, this is so bad. You thought you were safe; that those men and their angry fists and mean words were left behind — that they couldn't reach you here. Your heart beats faster in your chest, breathing starting to come out unseasy. You can’t go through that, not again. As anxiety starts to take over, you walk towards the door in quick steps.

“Stay.”

You stop by the door, hand holding the handle. Sweat runs down your forehead and you can’t bring yourself to look at the man. There’s a tiny chance that if you do, you will want to run, to put as much distance as you can between you and the predator Kokushibou actually is. You hesitate for a moment before letting go of the handle — even though you wanted to leave, he was still your lord, and you had to do whatever he asked.

In a blink of an eye he’s standing right behind you, hands resting on your waist. You stiffen even harder as you feel his hot breath on your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the moment, to look at his face and not find anything strange, to continue to live your life in peace when the outside world was dipped in chaos and cruelty; molded by the hands of the same man who touches you so intimately.

Your breath is caught on your throat when he kisses your nape, but the shuddering that takes over your body isn't good; it leaves you feeling cold and weird, caged by his hands and the door. There’s nothing you can do but try to fight those sensations from rising — the last thing you want is to make Kokushibou even angrier.

“Y/N,” Kokushibou calls your name, and you hate the way you flinch; the blatantly display of fear makes you even more tense.

Kokushibou holds your elbow, motioning for you to turn around. As you shift your body, your eyes fall to his chest, locked in the pattern of his kimono. Staring at him right now isn't a good idea, the reminder of your situation written all over his face. He studies you for a moment before speaking.

“I’m not angry with you,” He says gently, slowly raising his hand, “I don't think I could ever be angry with you.” His touch is tender, the back of his fingers caressing your cheek so gently you find yourself relaxing under his touch.

The coldness of the room melts away as the warmth of his words hits your heart. The sirens come to a stop, leaving your head in complete silence. You lift your eyes to stare at him, and even if Kokushibou was hard to read sometimes because of the amount of eyes instead of skin, the look on his face was definitely softer, and you could swear there was a hint of smile on his lips. Your heart throbs with the sight.

Kokushibou has never treated you like a whore. He wasn't like those men.

For your surprise, it’s you who move first. Wrapping your hands around his neck and bringing him closer. You brush your lips against his while inhaling his musk scent. Kokushibou pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and holds you in a tight grip; it’s almost suffocating the way his firm body presses on yours — almost as if he’s afraid that you’re going to leave. But you quickly discard the thought.

Kokushibou is never afraid… Right?

You lean closer, forehead tenderly touching in between the first row of his eyes. You get lost in the heat of the moment; the act is so intimate you have to close your eyes. His breath dances around your face while your fingers rub gently his jaw, easing the tension that had settled there a few minutes ago. He hums with the touch, and if you didn't know any better, you would say you effectively calmed him down. But you don't have that kind of effect on him, do you?

The kiss is chaste, almost innocent. It was a first time for you, kissing someone this way, wearing your emotions on your sleeve without even noticing. And you decide that it feels good, taking your time to savour each part of him without worrying about the next step.

And he lets you kiss him as much as you want, only tilting his head so you have better access to his mouth. You had never kissed Kokushibou so calmly before, without second intentions. It overflows you with feelings you didn't know that even existed, it was more than desire, more than lust. However, you push those thoughts for another time, now you were too focused on the flavour of his lips.

He holds you tight, hands traveling down your back, slightly squeezing your ass in the process, and you breathlessly moan in his mouth, “May we continue what we started?” Kokushibou asks, leaving small trails of kisses along your jaw.

And just like that, all the hesitation leaves your body. He was asking you, like the first time months ago. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that on some kind of level, he actually cared about you; about what you wanted. As you stop to think about, he never forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Sometimes you would hesitate, yes, but the final word was always yours.

You nod, letting him guide you to the futon. And maybe the reason why you trusted him so blindly was because he cared enough to listen. Something that no one has ever done before. Althought it was terrible that you could excuse murder for just a tiny bit of Kokushibou affetion, you couldn't help but feel good in his arms, stability in his words.

This time you decide to stay on top, straddling his thighs as soon as he sits on the futon. Kokushibou doesn't seem to mind, seeking your mouth instead of aiming for your neck. And you lose yourself in his taste, letting his tongue travel around your mouth, sliding against your own. You softly moan as he grinds against your pussy, his erection getting harder as you rock your hips forward.

Kokushibou quickly unties the knot of the sash, and you let the kimono fall on to the floor. The heat on your lower belly starts to boil, building you up deliciously slow. Then, his mouth is on your left breast, biting and sucking gingerly while you grind on his crotch, pussy pulsing already. Your fingers curl on his hair, tugging harder as he pinches the other one.

“Aah, Kokushibou,” You throw your head back, intense hunger taking over you, “I need you, now.”

Kokushibou growls with your request, devouring your mouth like a man who hasn't eaten for days, and you take his carnal need with delight, sobbing when he bites down your lower lip. Suddenly, the tender atmosphere shifts, red fills your vision as he thrusts his hips upwards, grinding on your pussy, and it doesn't take long for you to become a mess of moans.

His clothes are quickly discarded, and you immediately wrap your hand around his cock, feeling each vein and muscle as you start to stroke him. You liked the weight and the build, the way it twists in your hand when you turn your wrist just right — only you could do this to him, and somehow it fills you with pride.

You wanted to suck him off but right now you were taken by a need to have him inside you. It leaves you drunk with him; his scent clouds your head, and all you can do is feel every inch of his strong body against yours, rubbing on your hardened nipples. Sweat runs down your back and you’re so sensitive that even the brush of his finger on your clit makes you shudder, pulsing for something more.

You take the opportunity to kiss his neck while you run your hand down to his balls, he groans as you continue to stoke him, hands gripping your hips so tight it might leave marks; but you were already used to those — and strangely enough you want them more than ever. Positioning yourself above him, you hold one of his shoulders for balance while the other guides his cock to your entrance.

Kokushibou holds your hips as you go down on him, groaning while watching you take all his length in one swift motion. You roll your eyes when his cock hits the deepest part of you, filling you up the way you most liked it. He stops you from moving though, taking his time to enjoy the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

“You’re so good,” He praises, “So perfect for me.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and you don’t know why you are so sensitive today. A realization sinks on your stomach as you watch him behind heavy lids, his mouth red and swollen from your kisses, his hair was a mess, the once perfect ponytail now was in a disarray; the sight makes something itch under your skin.

You reach for his face, involving his neck with one hand while the other tugs free the piece that holds his hair together. Kokushibou doesn't protest, doesn't move. Rather, he watches in amusement as you take a good look at him for the first time with his hair down. Your breath gets caught up on your throat.

He was the one who was perfect.

“You’re so beautiful, Kokushibou.” It leaves you speechless. It wasn’t fair how astonishing his beauty was, almost from another world.

You could stay like this forever, staring at him like he was a God — worshiping him as if it was your only salvation. His hair falls on his back, and somehow he looks way younger like that, it frames his face flawlessly; and you have to suppress the desire to run your fingers through his hair for the rest of the night.

Then, you look at him, really look at him. Past those six eyes, beyond the black, the red and yellow; for who he once was. Maybe in another life you would be graced with the luck to meet him again, under different circumstances, being able to love him for the person he truly was. Love. Your mind freezes as the word appears from the deepest part of you.

Kokushibou smiles softly, leaning closer to kiss you. And you take his mouth like a gift from up above. You run your tongue over his lips, his teeth, drinking him up like the most delicious wine you could ever taste. For now, you were more than satisfied with what you got.

You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, but instead of moving, you pull back from his mouth. Right now you just wanted to give everything you could, wanted him to feel everything you would never be able to say. You hold his face, lifting just a little to reach the first eye.

Softly, as if you were holding something fragile, you kiss his eyelid. And then the other, then the other. You make your way down his face, putting devotion on each touch, each kiss carrying a different type of emotion. It makes him sigh every time your lips meet his eyelids. It was still too soon to say anything, but if the words appeared in your mind, then maybe it wasn't impossible.

After all his six eyes received their deserved attention, you leave another chaste kiss on his mouth. But Kokushibou doesn't let you go far away, pulling you for an open mouth kiss that leaves you breathless. He devours your mouth with such a hunger you think you might come just from that. He’s desperate on his touch, savoring you as if you were going to disappear. You do your best to match his rhythm, trying to tell him that you weren't going anywhere, that your place was here, by his side.

His cock throbs inside you again, and you take that as a cue to finally start moving. It starts quite slowly, you move your hips lazily, riding him while breathing heavily through your nose, eyes rolling to the back of your head as each drag of his cock makes you see stars. Kokushibou holds your hips, guiding you to keep moving; he watches you so intensely it makes you blush furiously.

“You take me so exceptionally,” He bites down on your earlobe, “I could watch you ride me all day.”

You moan from his words, they were making you feel hotter than normal. Maybe you did like when he praised you, when he would let his guard down. It showed that he liked and trusted this arrangement as much as you did. Perhaps it wasn't impossible then, love.

Kokushibou kisses you deeply between muffled moans, picking up the pace. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts harder, pounding his cock inside you with enough force that you feel yourself hanging on your sanity by a thin thread.

“Oh—nnh, Kokushibou!” You cry out, “Bite me, mark me.”

You don’t know where that need came from, however it spreads through your body as quickly as fire spreads through a forest. Realization hits you as he moans on your neck, you wanted to be owned by him so badly — and you would have laughed about how head over heels you were for this man if you were lucid enough.

Kokushibou bites down on your shoulder. It breaks your skin but it doesn't sting. Rather, it sends shivers down the impossibly heated pool on your lower belly. Then he bites down again, and again. You desperately moan louder each time — Kokushibou wanted you to be his too, and it sinks down into your bones, down to your core.

Your nails scratch viciously at his shoulder, slicing red marks into his skin. He sucks and lickes all the bites, and even though you can feel blood running down your back, you’re happy. Somehow you were his, and that’s all that matters.

“Come for me, Y/N.” Kokushibou whispers, hungrily kissing you.

Your whine on his mouth, and even though you didn't want the moment to end, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't come. Feverishly, your pussy tightens around his cock, your mouth opens but no sounds come out of it.

Your orgams runs trought your body like a lighting, igniting every single nerve just to come crashing into you in a wave of relief. Kokushibou follows right after, growling in your ear. He thrusts deeper, coming inside you hot and heavy.

Kokushibou pulls you with him to lie on the futon, you whimper as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet sound; his come drips down your pussy. You try to catch your breath, the afterglow lingering in your body so deliciously you can’t bring yourself to move. He rubs your waist with his thumb while you nuzzle his neck with your nose, hands caressing his chest.

It feels different this time, the way his fingers brush your skin, how tender and fragil the air around you two feel. It fills you with joy, having him touching you like that, taking care of you after sex. As if you were something more. As if he liked you.

You kiss his neck, then his shoulder, spreading small pecks along his collarbone. Blame the afterglow, blame the bubbling feeling in your chest, blame whatever you want. Damn it, you were happy. Kokushibou hums, stroking your back affectionately; definitely content with your pampering.

Something crosses your mind, and before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, they are already out.

"What did Douma want?” You suddenly ask, feeling him tense under your body. Well, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, what a nice way to mess up a perfect moment.

“Go to sleep, Y/N.” Kokushibou dismisses, you feel guilty when he stops stroking your back.

“Is everything alright?” You try again, the need to have an affirmation that nothing was going to change takes over your soul.

“I told you to go to sleep.”

You fall silent, biting down your lips to prevent from saying anything else. You knew you shouldn't mingle in his business. However, you couldn't just ignore the fact that he was on the verge of snapping when he entered the room. The excruciating feeling creeping in your guts wouldn't let you sleep, you needed to know.

You hear Kokushibou sighing before speaking, “Muzan-sama is summoning me, I'll be back in a few days, that's all.”

You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed but there's a hint of uneasiness in his features. Muzan was a tough person to deal with it, you knew that very well. However, you couldn’t stop thinking that there was something more between the lines. You would’ve to talk with the servants if you wanted to know because the man clearly wasn't going to tell you.

In a gentle motion, you cup his jaw with one hand, only two of his eyes open with the gesture, watching you behind long lashes. Kokushibou’s hair is spread in the sheets, a pool of dark hair surring him like a dark aura; with hints of red on the tips. You ran your hand through his long and beautiful hair, it’s silk and smooth to the touch; just like you expected. He goes back to stroke your back, and you don’t fight the tiny smile from forming on your lips.

You look at him, but nothing comes out of your mouth. It's on the tip of your tongue, begging to be freed from its cage. It’s an overflowing feeling that fills your chest, padding each hole that life had once torn it open. It’s delicate, like your chest is filled with an intense light that shines through every pore.

Rather than speaking, you lean closer, capturing Kokushibou’s lips once again and diving in for a kiss. His lips feel soft on yours, still wet from the previous activity. He kisses you with vigor and you’ve to heavily breathe through your nose to not break the kiss. You wanted this to last as long as it could.

There’s no tongue, only your lips meeting his in a soft and very intimate act. It feels pure somehow, how your hand caresses his jaw as Kokushibou sucks slightly your bottom lips. And you decide that you should kiss him like this more often from now on.

You pull away, breathing heavily. If the smirk on his face was a signal that he understood what you wanted to say, then it was enough. Snuggling your nose on his neck, you close your eyes, getting lost on his scent as fatigue starts to take over your body.

”Good night, Kokushibou."

"Good night, Y/N."

VII.

You should’ve known something was wrong when Kokushibou kissed you in front of everyone before leaving. His hands cupped your face, kissing you so tenderly that you sighed as soon as he retread, missing his touch already. The gasps and shocked looks from the rest of the servants didn't bother you; what did bother you was the dread feeling eating you from inside out. You watched him go, disappearing in the distance until you couldn't see his silhouette anymore.

The moon shone bright in the night, the flowers swung with the wind. But the air was tense, carrying an intense trepidation that left you shivering on the spot. Your gut ached with apprehension.

You should’ve known something was wrong when that same night you weren't able to sleep, nor the other ones. Without his warmth, without his body, without him. You haven't realized until now how you had become dependent on the man. You also weren't eating, dark circles adorned your eyes, and even when the servants asked for you to at least drink some tea, you couldn't find the strength. Not even their voices you were able to register, caught in a dark void that inebriated all your senses.

Not one, nor two, but three weeks passed and there was no sign of him. You would sit in the front of the house every night, waiting for his return.

But Kokushibou never came back.

You knew something had gone wrong when you saw the banner of the Demon Slayer in the distance, moving so painfully slow that you could count your heartbeats in the fraction of time they took to make their way to the entrance of the house. Someone shouted, there was the sound of something crashing on the wooden floor, you sensed someone touching your shoulder, speaking enthusiastically, motioning to the group of people that were now crossing the yard with huge smiles on their faces.

Suddenly, it was winter.

Your body starts to shake violently, the air that enters your lungs is suffocating, like sharp knives stabbing your body repeatedly. You shook your head, holding your hands together in a prayer. Please, let my gut be wrong just this time. For all those weeks you never allowed yourself to think about a scenario like this; never allowed the dread feeling to take over your mind, the trepidation ran in your veins but you didn't let it poison you.

This couldn't be. No, it was impossible. Kokushibou wasn't… Although, deep down you already knew the answer. Denying it was what made you tolerate the way the moon and the sun change places in the sky; the cold nights, the tasteless food, the insufferably voices of the servants. It was what prevented you from collapsing completely — however, now there was nothing preventing you from finally stepping to the edge of the cliff.

Someone touches your hand, it takes a few minutes for you to process who it was. The old lady holds your hands in hers, her smile doesn't settle right in your stomach, it sickens you instead.

“You are free, honey. He will never use you like that anymore.” She says in a sweet tone but it’s too sugary, too much for your palate.

“What...” Your frown, feeling your skin crawl underneath her touch.

“It’s okay, Y/N. We all knew what he was doing to you…”

“No, you’re wrong,” You shout, face twisting in a scowl. You retreat your hands as if she had burned them, the implication of that phrase cutting deep to your bone, “I wanted him, I loved him!”

You can’t process what you just said, you can’t process that it took this long to say something so simple. The old lady looks at you with pity, as if she understands how you were feeling better than yourself, as if she knew you. She tries to hold your hand again, saying something you can’t comprehend, her touch is sickening, it feels wrong.

“Don’t touch me.” You warn, stepping back. Your heart is in your throat, it burns to speak, it burns to breathe.

The other servants stop their chatting to stare at you, some of them look disgusted; as if you had become a Demon too. There’s a nauseating silence but you can read each one of their thoughts, you don’t notice when your hands start to clench on your sides. You can’t stand it anymore. Panicking, you run to the only place you knew they wouldn't follow; his bedroom.

You’re trembling, knees almost giving in when you arrived at his door. No air enters your lungs; they are on the verge of collapsing. It hurts, it hurts more than any punch you’ve ever received, it hurts more than all the wrong decisions you had made in your entire life. It cruelly crushes your heart — tore it apart as if it was just made of paper — it wasn't strong enough to endure another change.

Impulsively, you find yourself opening the drawer where he kept his clothes, grabbing the beautiful piece of purple kimono he was always wearing. You run your hand through the fabric, the simple pattern brings a sense of melancholy; the taste of memories is so bitter on your tongue that you can’t keep standing. Your knees hit the ground in a loud and painful thud.

You bury your face in the fabric, screaming to the world, to the universe. Screaming until your voice was gone, until you couldn't hear anything but your own agonizing sound, lost in a sea of excruciating pain. You were drowning again, but this time there was no one to save you — misery corrodes your foundation, making all that you’ve built up until this moment come crashing down on you.

Life was never going to give you an option, was it?

His scent was still strong in the bedroom, on the kimono. You take a deep breath, trying to hold into something, anything. However, it does the completely opposite. It fills you with memories, shooting through your mind like bullets. They hit you countless times, each one more painful than the other. A broken sob escapes your lips.

You remember his touch, his voice, his body. But mostly, you remember the feeling of being with Kokushibou. It has always been peaceful, it has always felt good. In only a few months you were able to finally begin to be yourself, to finally dream. You remember his tiny smile, the way his hair swung when he walked, the way he touched you, the way he looked at you.

You loved him. You really loved him. And even if Kokushibou didn't feel the same, he still gave you everything you wanted, a house, a peaceful life you always fought for, and the most important thing; he gave you affection. He took care of you when you thought the entire world was against you. You were selfish for wanting him to live forever, for wanting a Demon to continue to live, you knew that, but your heart didn't; it screamed for him to come back.

Nothing lasts forever, so why did you think he was an exception?

It was an illusion that this could go on until you died. Another broken sob comes ripping your insides until it escapes your lips. It was all false. The tears come in large drops, dripping down into his kimono as you continue to scream. They crash and burn, making your body quiver with the intensity.

Kokushibou was gone. He wasn't coming back to sleep by your side, to take care of you. He wasn't coming back to run his finger through your hair, to kiss you when you needed it. He wasn't coming back to touch you and love you.

For days the sky felt dull, as if an eclipse had settled in front of the moon and the sun, leaving you in an eternal twilight; the long nights and the colorless days. It aches your soul, the deep cuts were torn open, and now were bleeding nonstop, and you feel like dying from those injuries.

When the night comes, you’re still crying. Everything feels false, your hands, his scent, reality. You can feel your body, can’t feel your face. You try to walk over the window by the corridor, trying to find some form of comfort, anything to put the pain to a stop. But it breaks your heart all the same.

Tonight, there was no moon to gleam over the darkness of the night.

#kokushibou #kokushibou x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #sometimes i write #i can't believe i actually finished a multi chapter fic #i guess there's a first time for everything #i'm proud of myself #for once ndklsnd

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weirdlyhornyforegos · 4 years

Text

Darkiplier x reader x Antisepticeye

Anon: Hi! So I had this idea about a poly relationship with Wilford (or Anti) and Dark where they try to get a little sexy time with the reader but are always disturbed by the other and it starts a fight (with glitching and breaking things) which the reader tries to break off... and it ends up in an angry three way? Don't know if you want to make a fic out of it but I really wanted to share this idea ^-^

MINORS DNI! I don’t really write stuff with Anti or any one Jack’s egos, but this idea was too good to pass up, and I can’t really imagine Wilford being very aggressive and mad with Dark without just like, asking him to join in on the fun instead. So have some very rare Anti from me ;P (Slight warning for a very light play/pressing with/of Anti’s wound)

Honestly, you weren’t one hundred percent sure how this arrangement had come to be, but you certainly wasn’t complaining.

You were in some sort of relationship with both Dark and Anti, but not at the same time. Both of them had said that was not a viable option, and considering how often they would fight and argue just being in the same room, you had agreed.

However, that doesn’t stop either of them from being a little possessive over you sometimes, which over time evolves into them on purpose walking in on each other with you and interrupting, breaking up whatever was about to happen. It’s them annoying each other and playing some sort of weird game for power, but all it’s doing for you is making you frustrated, close to just having enough of their bullshit.

And one night, it all comes to a head.

Anti has you sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, standing inbetween your legs, pressing himself against you, arousal obvious as he keeps kissing you. He has already taken your shirt off, so his hands wanders and squeezes where he can reach, every so often pinching skin, making you jump and him laugh.

Someone clears their throat, Anti break the kiss to groan, before glaring at Dark where he stands a little bit away from you, hands behind his back as he looks at where you’re gripping Anti’s shirt.

“Fuckin’ what?” Dark raises an an eyebrow.

“No need to be rude, I simply require some time from my dearest.” You sigh as Anti’s face turns sour.

“Fuck off.”

“Rude, and no.” Anti takes the salt shaker from the table and chucks it at Dark, who easily ducks out of the way.

“Now, now, no need to turn violent.” Anti gets out from between your legs, ignoring your hands trying to hold him back.

“Ya know what? It fuckin’ is. Every time we try to have some fun, ya show up and ruin’ it.” Anti snarls, and though Dark tries to keep calm, you can tell he’s getting angry.

“As if you do not do the same.” Anti snorts.

“As fuckin’ payback for when ya did it moron.” Dark narrows his black eyes, and he splits for a brief second as his ringing grow louder.

“Brat.”

“Motherfucker.” Anti quips back, and something about that seems to push the limit for Dark, as just seconds later he has Anti pressed against the wall, a hand around his throat. It’s just above Anti’s neck wound, pressing Anti’s head up while they snarl and glitch at each other.

You’re not even afraid of the power play happening right in front of you, if anything you’re still turned on from before, but it’s mixing with a burning annoyance now.

You jump off the table, marching right over to the pair. You grab the back of Dark’s jacket and pull. You think it’s mostly the unexpectedness of the motion that actually makes Dark move back a few steps and let go of Anti. You keep your hand there, placing your other on Anti’s shoulder as you step between them.

“Could you two stop fighting for a fucking minute?”

“He star-” You give Anti a glare, which surprisingly shuts him up, although with a grimace. Dark chuckles, but stops once you direct your glare at him.

“You need to stop this, fucking, whatever this sort of power test or whatever the fuck, cause I’m starting to really fucking hate it. All it does is leave me frustrated and horny, and fuck that. If you don’t resolve this somehow, I’m going to use toys and neither of you are allowed near me for two months MINIMUM.”

You’re slightly out of breath and a few locks of hair has fallen in front of your face, so you let go of both of them to push the hair back.

Anti and Dark exchanges a look you can’t really decipher, but they’re still not doing anything, so you turn to walk away from them, so they can sort whatever the thing is the fuck out.

Then there’s a hand on your wrist, and before you can really understand what is happening, Dark is pressed against your back, and Anti against your front.

“Now, now, we cannot have that can we?” Dark says as he nips at your ear.

“No, we can’t.” Anti grins, kissing you. His hands go to your hair to drag you into the kiss, while Dark’s hands drags you against him, where you can feel him grow against you. Your own hands go to Anti’s sides, clutching at his shirt.

“Don’t fuckin’ drag ‘em away ya prick.”

“Alright then.” Dark pushes you forward, following closely behind, so now both of you are pinning Anti against the wall. Anti grunts, gripping your shoulder and hair harder.

“Do not complain, you got what you wanted, no?” Anti glares at Dark, and you can’t help the little laugh that escapes you. This shifts Anti’s attention to you.

“He’s kinda right you know?” Anti rolls his eyes and tsks, but kisses you again instead of arguing further. Dark rolls his hips forward, making you move against Anti’s still very much there arousal.

You shift around a little, so you can push your thigh inbetween Anti’s legs. Anti moans into the kiss, which makes you grin against him. In retaliation he tugs at your hair, now it’s you who moan.

Dark, not content with where most of your attention is going, lets on of his hands dance along the hem of your pants, making you draw in a little breath.

He doesn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, since just seconds later, he’s unbuttoning and unzipping them, and putting his hand inside, pressing against your own arousal. You moan into the kiss with Anti and buck into Dark’s hand, which moves your thigh against Anti, causing him to moan.

You break the kiss with Anti, who goes right to kissing along your neck.

“Ah, as lovely as this i-, ah!” Anti chuckles at your reaction to his bite. You give up on being anything but blunt and straightforward.

“Bedroom.” Dark hums, hips and hand still moving against you, making it harder to keep any form on concentration, and Anti biting and making hickeys against your neck doesn’t exactly help.

“Excellent suggestion dear.” Anti chuckles against your neck.

“Think that was more a comman’ than anythin’.” Another hum, and then the floor under your feet are gone for a brief second, before the floor in your bedroom replaces it. You’re standing more or less in the middle of the room. With no support against his back anymore, Anti almost falls backwards, swearing as he grips tightly onto you to stay upright.

“Fuck, give some warnin’, would ya?”

“It is not my fault you needed support.” That least part is pure bait, which Anti almost takes, only stopped by you tugging on both his and Dark’s hair.

“Don’t, and stop it.” Dark growls next to your ear as Anti laughs.

“Look at ‘em, got us fuckin wrapped around their goddamn finger!” Anti gives you a brief but deep kiss, moving away from you as he starts to strip. Dark lets go of you, and when you look at him, he shedding his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. You start to take your clothes off too, not that you had much left.

You climb up on the bed when you’re naked, kneeling in the middle. Dark and Anti follow close behind, Dark against your back and Anti against your front again. Dark’s hands on your hips, Anti’s on your ribs.

Dark twist your head so he can kiss you. The angle a bit awkward, but worth it when you roll your hips back against his hard cock and he growls against your mouth.

Dark stops kissing you to place hickeys and bites along your shoulder, so Anti takes over kissing you. His tongue presses against your lips, and you let him in. Dark’s hand goes to your front again, you try to move against his hand as best as you can.

One of Anti’s hands tangles in your hair, tugging slightly, making you moan against his mouth. You can feel him grin, and bite his bottom lip in retaliation. Anti groans and pulls back, replacing his mouth and tongue with his thumb, which he presses into your mouth and down on your tongue.

“I’m goin’ to fuck that mouth.” You nod enthusiastically, Dark chuckles, stopping with the hickeys so he can nose along your ear.

“How crude.” Dark speaks right next to your ear.

“Oh fuck ya.”

“It is not always just about your pleasure.” Dark moves his hand in a way that makes you gasp around Anti’s thumb.

“As if they don’t get off in it.” Something about them talking about you like you’re not even there is doing things for you, so you let out a little whine, mouth moving around Anti’s thumb.

“Ah, it seems that someone is getting a little impatient.”

“Yehs.” You speak as well as you can, eager to get more.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Anti takes his thumb out of your mouth, dragging you into a bruising kiss before he pushes you down so you’re on your hands and knees, face right in front of his hard cock.

“Ya know what to do.” You immediately lean forward, starting to lick along his shaft as Anti fists your hair.

“Rude and crude at once, how elegant.” Dark speaks from behind you, hands still on your hips.

“It fuckin’ works, hng, doesn’t it?” Anti grunts as you take his head into your mouth. Dark snorts, one hand still stroking against your arousal, a particular move making you moan around Anti’s cock.

“I guess so.” Dark unoccupied hand disappears from your hip, reappearing at your hole just seconds later, now wet with lube. You didn’t even hear a bottle cap open, but now there’s a bottle of lube resting right next to you knee. Sometimes it pays off to be involved with entities.

Dark slowly sinks one finger in as you move from sucking on Anti’s cock, licking at his head instead. You move down so you can lick one long stripe from the bottom of his shaft to the top.

You do it a few times, trying to keep your concentration while Dark’s hands moves against and in you, taking Anti’s cock back in your mouth when you hear him growl above you.

You sink down as far as you can on Anti’s, swallowing around him, making him buck up into your face.

You switch between licking and sucking at Anti’s cock while Dark works you open. It’s not long before you’re rocking back and forth between Anti’s cock in your mouth and Dark’s fingers in you.

You briefly take your mouth of Anti, licking your lips before you speak.

“Fuck me.” Dark chuckles behind you, but seems to be in an indulging mood, as his fingers disappears from you, just seconds later replaced by the head of his cock.

You put your mouth back on Anti as he tugs your hair, moaning around his cock as Dark sinks slowly into you. When he’s all the way in, he stills, gripping your while he lets you adjust.

You don’t wait long to start rocking your hips back, and Dark starts to trust into you, low grunts escaping every so often. You let Anti’s cock fall out of your mouth, mouthing along it before looking up at him.

“Fuck my mouth.” Anti is hardly one to wait, so as soon as you say those words, both of his hands are on your head, showing you down on his cock. You almost choke on it, but he pulls back slightly so you can breathe. Dark chuckles, and if you were able to see up, you would see Anti removing his hand briefly from your head to give Dark the finger.

Instead you’re too focused on the feeling on being rocked back on forth on their cocks. You’re drooling already, not just from getting your mouth fucked, but from how good this is making you feel.

Dark and Anti surprisingly quickly finds a rythm, making sure you’re always filled with cock. It feels so good, and in a weird way nice.

Neither of them are gentle at all, just fucking into you with the tempo they have chosen, and you’re sure you will have bruises on you hip where Dark is gripping you, but you certainly don’t mind.

You can still feel some of the bites and hickeys from earlier, and the thought of how you must look and how you will look, makes you clutch at the sheets.

The noises that escapes are nothing less than obscene, moans, whines and grunts escaping your mouth when it’s not occupied by Anti cock.

Dark and Anti is exactly quiet either, but Anti is by far the loudest of the two. He’s grunting, growling, and swearing, and while Dark is making the same noises (although a lot less swearing), they’re a lot more quiet.

With them fucking at both ends like this, you’re getting close, and with how they’re filling and fucking you, the only way you feel you can communicate this, is to move a little so you can clutch at Anti’s thighs, whining as best as you can.

“Getting close are ya?” Anti grunts.

“They certainly are, I can feel them clench around my cock.” You moan, hearing the breathlessness in Dark’s voice always does something to you.

Neither of the slow down, instead they seem to speed up.

Not long after, your orgasm hits, making you clench and shake around Dark as he comes as well. Anti lets his cock fall out of your mouth as you take in a few gulps of air. He doesn’t move away however, letting his cock move against your face, smearing some pre-cum on your cheek.

You look up at Anti as Dark pulls out of you, licking your lips when you see how wrecked he looks. He’s also looks a bit annoyed, since you could tell he was close when he pulled out.

“Fuck me?” Anti raises and eyebrow before he cackles. He brushes his fingers against your lips and cups your jaw.

“Who am I to deny such a prettily asked request?” He glitches and just seconds later he’s behind you, his hands on your hips and pushing inside. You moan, still sensitive from cumming, almost letting yourself fall facedown onto the mattress, but a pair of grey hand catches your shoulders, pushing you up.

Dark pushes you up so you’re more or less leaning against Anti while he fucks into you. You moan as Dark starts on more hickeys along your neck, once more splitting your attention between the two entities.

You only let Dark get a few in before you pull him by his hair, dragging him into a messy kiss. If he minds the taste of Anti on your lips, he doesn’t comment on it as you break the kiss to whisper in his ear.

“Anti’s wound is a weak spot.” You pull back to see Dark eyeing Anti’s wound, clearly weighing your words. Anti doesn’t seem to have caught your words, as he has moved to kiss along the side of your neck while still fucking into you.

Dark moves one of his hands quickly, fingers on the back of Anti’s neck and his thumb pressing down on Anti’s wound. The reaction from Anti is instant. He throws his head back, moaning loudly, hands on your hips gripping harder as his rythm falters.

Anti clearly didn’t mean to do any of that by the glare you can barely see him sending Dark when you twist to look over your shoulder.

“Fuck ya, where the fuck did that come from?” Dark presses down again, and Anti lets out another moan.

“Who, not where.” You hear Anti growl right next to your ear, and next thing you know there’s a particular hard bite at your shoulder, making you yelp. Dark pushes Anti’s head back up as Anti laughs.

“And I’m the rude one.”

“Yes.” Dark simply answer, Anti growls at him, which makes Dark push at his wound again. Anti moans, and with just a few more pumps of his hips he’s coming inside of you.

Dark lets go Anti’s throat and moves away. Anti pulls out, and you stay kneeling for just a few seconds before flopping down on the bed next to Anti.

Dark is already out of the room, but back just seconds later, boxers on and a towel in each hand. He trows one at Anti, who catches it right before it hits him in the face.

Dark quickly cleans you up, throwing the towel in the laundry basket in the corner, before returning to the bed and getting in next to you, on the opposite side from Anti.

During that brief window, Anti glitches out of the bed and back to pick up his underwear and yours, laughing as the chucks it at your stomach. You put it on as Dark lays down next to you. You shift so you’re on your side, back against Dark as he gets close. Before Anti can think of doing anything else, you pull him against you, arms around you. You can feel him glitch a little, but he settles.

“Awfully fuckin’ rude of ya to be a tattle tale.” You hum, closing your eyes.

“I’ll tell you something about Dark another time.”

“Do not darling”, Dark growls low right next to your ear, you just huff, not even opening your eyes.

“It’s only fair, payback and all.” Anti laughs.

“What did I say? We’re wrapped around their fuckin’ finger I tell ya.”

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virginwhoredichotomy · 4 years

Text

alright here’s the wikihow article i’ve been threatening to write on how to brainwash yourself into not entirely hating 15x20, or: castiel’s absence is a good thing, actually.

disclaimers:

- i do not claim that this is the intended interpretation

- i am watching the show with my destiel/dean coded cas girl goggles stapled on

- i do not enjoy being bitter about things i like and therefore probably jumped through a lot of hoops to arrive at this conclusion

i know there were a LOT of things people hated about the episode and this will not address all of them. my main issues with the finale were 1) the manner of dean’s death, 2) the unresolved dean/cas arc, 3) sam’s extremely emotionally hollow happy ending, and 4) cas’ complete absence. the production quality/editing/pacing was terrible as well but that’s nothing out of the ordinary on supernatural rip

1. the bad guy (spn writers room) won

my correct opinion is that this was, in fact, one of chuck’s endings (though i don’t think they made it bad on purpose). on a meta level it makes a lot of sense for this to have been chuck’s ending since he is the meta stand-in for the writers. as long as they are the ones telling this story, EVERY ending will be a chuck ending.

some supporting evidence:

from 14x20 moriah

chuck loves circular storytelling: sam and dean as cain and abel as michael and lucifer, or dean and jack as sam and john as abraham and isaac. we know that chuck’s ideal ending would have the brothers regress back to their brodependent s1 selves and then have them meet a tragic end (15x04 atomic monsters). and something that really stood out about 15x20 is the way it just... completely erased 15 years of sam and dean’s character development. someone said you could watch the pilot and then the finale and understand everything and that’s completely true and extremely frustrating to any viewer with a brain. it’s also a trademark of chuck’s writing.

if you watch it with that in mind, 15x20 is so reminiscent of season 1 that if you pulled jarpad’s hairline back across his forehead and slapped on a grunge filter it might actually be the walmart version of an alternate s1 ending:

- jenny the vampire returns

- complete absence of any characters that aren’t sam and dean

- motw, specifically working one of john’s unfinished jobs

- sam happily leaving his hunter’s life behind and living a normal picket fence life with his blurry spouse, the way he dreamed in s1 and has repeatedly stated is not what he wants for himself anymore

- dean dying as daddy’s blunt instrument

- i hate to say it but the borderline romantic framing of dean’s death scene also counts as a kripke era callback considering how many romantic tropes sam and dean played into during the earlier seasons. erotically codependet etc etc

- probably more but i watched the finale exactly once and am not planning on doing it ever again in my life

tl;dr the 15x20/s1 parallels aren’t just parallels, it’s sam and dean actually regressing to their past selves because they are once again living chuck’s story (or on a meta level: still living the writers’ story). they don’t notice it and neither does the viewer because the framing of the episode suggests that god is defeated and sam and dean are living life the way they want. and yet their endgames are anything but what they would choose for themselves.

(if you watch the back half of s15 through this lense you can also suddenly excuse dean’s character assassination in 15x17/dean failing to break the cycle and being a bad father to jack just as john was a bad father to dean. running in circles is kind of chuck's Thing. god made them do it is a god tier coping mechanism for everything i’m mad at supernatural about.)

it all comes down to what cas said: freedom is a length of rope and sam and dean hung themselves with it. imo it’s still a dissatisfying ending after fifteen years of character development but it is narratively sound. the reason the story set up all these endgames and then didn’t pull through is that the antagonist won. 15x20 is a depressing tale on the dangers of hubris.

OR IS IT.

2. castiel’s absence is a good thing, actually

alright so this is where i’m probably REALLY going against authorial intent. here’s the thing about cas: he is the only character in the show that possesses true free will, both within the story (”you never did what you were told”, god himself in 15x17 unity) and outside the story (the showrunners kept trying to kill him and he kept coming back, cas falling in love with dean despite writers, actors and network actively trying to prohibit it). so if cas as the representative of free will had been in 15x20 my whole argument would collapse because his presence would mean it either WAS the ending sam and dean chose for themselves, or that cas no longer possessed free will.

but what did cas do instead? he rebuilt heaven for them. heaven is now a paradise of his own making, a place free of chuck’s influence and it’s where sam and dean will finally get to choose their ending. off-screen. post canon. across 50 ao3 pages. dean and cas are shyly linking pinkie fingers as we speak. because the ending the characters choose for themselves is not the writer’s ending to tell.

3. on destiel

i've already talked about my feelings on deancas in dabbnatural/15x20 so i'll just link those posts:

- i think they handled dean and cas’ relationship very well given the circumstances (my post and another very good analysis)

- textual reciprocation or not, destihellers won

- supernatural = queerbait is discussed with like zero nuance on this website and it's annoying as hell

i wrote this at 2 am, i hope i've managed to make my point. again, i'm not saying that this is what the writers were going for. but i do think it's a valid interpretation for the most part and i hope it helped someone feel a little less bitter about the finale!

#like. idk. i'm kinda over it. i think if this is what they were going for it was executed badly but i do like the concept #like i don't even have to fix anything about the finale like this i can simply sleep peacefully knowing that they did break free in the end

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 35

💖first time reader click here💖

Reader and Eddie going on their mission. They're all morons, okay? Some canon-typical violence, bad guys being bad guys. You guys can see that I treat the fighting plot points as total crack, right?

Eddie Brock was pissed, at the Avengers mostly - for not telling him of my accident - but also at me, for the fact that I didn't call him sooner. Venom had taken over at some point, eager to participate in my plan - and it I was being honest, my uncle's space boo was the one I had relied on to participate in the mayhem that was to be caused to finally let my family breathe in peace.

The Avengers wore various expressions of guilt when an angry Eddie stormed the tower, berating them for not getting into contact with him when I was in danger. Venom growled at them, too, just the right amount of teeth and drool for Tony to quickly usher me out to 'take a walk, have some fun, build a snowman' with uncle Eddie and Venom. It was almost too easy, too predictable. The guilt that reared it's ugly head was stomped down by me and two glasses of whiskey in Eddie's rented Airbnb as I went into the fine details of my plan.

Both I and Eddie were equally surprised when Venom dropped their sarcastic, angsty teenager attitude and approached the topic with maturity, giving valuable input. The goth space goo was much, much smarter than their first impressions showed. I belatedly remembered their remark about being an apex predator species... Scary.

The plan was pretty simple.

Eddie was a professional investigative reporter and an unregistered mutant, his files being hidden so deeply due to the alien nature of the symbiote that it was unlikely that underground gangs would have any idea as to who he truly was. His involvement with SHIELD was buried under so much red tape, even Coulson himself had very little idea about Eddie's body-mate.

My uncle would sniff around the mutant underworld, just enough to catch a whiff of the mercenary's whereabouts. It should be enough if he was as famous as Natasha claimed him to be. And if it wasn't enough... I'd be bait. I doubt that the merc knew the box has been retrieved and secured; every now and then, I still caught chatter about the SHIELD agents trailing me catching a person sent to monitor me. They weren't even trying to hide that hard.

I had my suspicions SHIELD was indirectly using me as bait, too, and both Eddie and Venom were inclined to agree with the notion. Over beers and ridiculous amount of chocolate cake, a third side of the operation Baby Thief had been formed. SHIELD played their own game, the Avengers and SI threw a ridiculous amount of resources on their own and then there was me and Eddie, two halves of a whole idiot.

For once, the plan didn't go south immediately off the bat. Eddie and Venom got the information - there was a lot of uproar in the mutant community, rumours about an artifact that would let them assume their rightful place in the world, pushing the pesky humans off their pedestal. I definitely supported mutant rights - but the common notion that violence was necessary to achieve the recognition of said rights didn't sit well with me at all. Eddie agreed with me, his own curiousity pushing him to dig deeper into the situation.

My uncle could be a brilliant investigative reporter with the proper motivation and his significant other at the side. I could never tire of Venom's stories: each and every time they saved Eddie from making a clown out of himself was remembered, documented and brought up at the quickest available opportunity. I haven't laughed so hard in months.

The positives of our plan? We got a hot trail and enough information to know about the mercenary's whereabouts. We possessed the manpower needed to off him in record time, Venom eagerly offering his digestive system for our convenience.

The negatives? We'd need to bring me. Apparently there was a hefty bounty on my pretty little head and the merc himself had given up trying to chase me, hiring a bunch of muscle to do the legwork for him instead. The mercenary, a man who went by the nickname Cadre, was an ex-shield agent, who knew enough to successfully avoid the organisation following hot on his heels.

And neither SHIELD, nor Tony nor Eddie knew who had ordered the retrieval of the artifact. The mysterious person had deep pockets: all of the men were supplied with high grade weaponry and the mutants participating in the missions had equipment specifically tailored to their powers.

Perhaps, I wasn't as clever as I wanted myself to be. There was something big and ugly brewing and the bounty on my head was just the tip of the iceberg. But what was done, was done, and Venom was looking forward to a hefty meal and we set the date of Eddie "kidnapping" me in a few days time.

I hoped I'd make it home for Christmas.

The biggest surprise was that nobody suspected anything. Not even Natasha's watchful eye and inherent knowledge of shit about to be stirred - somehow, Nat always just knew those things - had revealed itself and that's how I knew it was absolutely necessary for me to be successful. There was no room for failure. In the day before my planned trip to Cadre's lair, I forced the team into a movie night and took extra time with everybody, seeing as even the most cheerful people - Thor and Wanda - walked around with sullen faces for most of the time. Perhaps, deep down, I knew that chances of my plan going awry were pretty damn high.

It felt like I was leaving for war. And perhaps, I was. The nervous, anxious energy increased as the hour X drew closer and I couldn't hide it anymore. My insomnia wore Tony's face: I could see his disappointment as clear as day, but I figured he'd forgive me for the betrayal eventually. Every single thing I hid from my newfound family made me feel a traitor. Unfortunately, there was simply no other option.

That afternoon, Eddie picked me up from the tower and drove me to one of the hideouts that belonged to Cabre. He'd tied my hands together and blindfolded me, all for show of course, whilst Venom briefly connected with my body to induce a drowsy state of mind. I didn't actually mind to be drugged and was way more wary of the symbiote's effects on my body but the space pudding extended his tentacles so quickly, I barely had the time to even swear at them.

To my (and their) surprise, it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. In my hazy state, I briefly head Venom growl that I could be a decent short-term host if something would to happen with Eddie; I did not know how that information made me feel but did not disregard it completely. I was out of my depth on this one yet marched on towards the danger with grim determination.

"Here's the girl," Eddie's voice penetrated through the curtain of chemicals that Venom had dosed me with; I was tossed none too gently on what felt like a mattress, the landing haphazard but not painful. Venom must've dulled my pain receptors, too. "Where's our money?"

I was unceremoniously groped, my face examined by a man with ice-cold hands. Whatever he found, he deemed it satisfactory. "I'm impressed," He whistled. "We've been trying to get her for months. Care to share how you achieved this?" The strange man sounded suspicious.

"WE HAVE OUR OWN TRICKS," Venom's deep voice filled out the room like thick smoke and I just knew that the man who had been groping me was twitching in discomfort. "SO?"

"Alright, alright," The man mumbled, voice unsteady. My drowsiness slowly began to recede and I finally could focus my eyes somewhat; Eddie was partially obscured by the writhing, onyx mass of his symbiote and the man was dialing up the phone, speaking in a rapid-fire dialect I did not know. "Cabre will be here in an hour. Care for a beer?" Just like that, the man was obviously attempting to placate Eddie.

"HOT CHOCOLATE," Venom announced flatly and I had to struggle to hold back my laughter at the image of a seven feet tall tentacle monster sipping hot cocoa from a tiny porcelain cup. My nerves had me feeling ten types of way, as usual, and props to Ven making me unable to speak. I would have already killed myself by running my mouth ten times over.

The hour passed by with me floating in my mindsphere, Eddie loudly playing Candy Crush on his phone and Venom consuming ridiculous amounts of hot chocolate. It was absurd and the eerie calm was beginning to make me suspicious; I had expected... More. Threatening thugs with guns, experiments, blood tests and physical violence. Instead, the man who met with Eddie was sitting with a vacant, bored expression as he practiced card tricks in the corner furthest away from Venom.

Finally, a knock on the door forced all of us to pay attention to the newcomer. It was a tall, massively built man in his early forties. His face was covered in scars, narrow red lines that looked like small cuts; one of his eyes was completely black while the other was blue. He looked like the man at the coffee shop but at the same time, nothing like him at all.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," His voice was low and quiet. If not for the heavyweight weapon hanging over his shoulder, I would have considered him to be one of those men who only look threatening but actually are gentle giants. With steps too quiet for a man his size, he approached me, crouching down to look me in the face. "Hello, child. I've been looking for you for a long time. It's a shame we had to meet this way," He removed the strands of hair sticking to my face. For all purposes, his touch could have been considered fatherly. "Richard, bring the money." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the man who was babysitting me and Eddie and he promptly disappeared behind the steel door.

"Hello," Eddie briefly shook his hands with Cabre after the merc left me alone. I noted Venom had disappeared into the reporter's body completely. "We are Venom," Eddie introduced himself (they introduced themselves?).

"Cabre," The Merc watched my honorary uncle with a sharp eye, taking note of Eddie's lack of weapons, his worn clothes and the shaggy hair, the bags under his eyes. "Tell me, Venom, what do you know of this child?"

"Not much," Eddie shrugged, convincingly. "Just that the Avengers picked her up for some reason and locked her up in Stark's tower. We're guessing she didn't like it much 'cuz she kept sneaking out and trying to shake off the tail. Had to go through quite a few SHIELD agents to get to her," Just like we agreed, Eddie spoke with slight disdain towards Tony and SHIELD, making sure to let Cabre believe he was on the mutants' side. "We just need the money, man. Not many people will hire us," To top it up, Eddie spread his arms, showing his skin ripple and move on it's own prominently under his ratty t-shirt. Atta boy!

Cabre appeared to have bought the lie, chuffing sympathetically, before pulling out a tablet and typing on it. "Well, not for long. My superiors have found an artifact that, if unlocked properly, will render most of the technology suppressing mutant powers useless. They won't be able to get rid of us that easily anymore."

Eddie nodded eagerly, for all purposes appearing to be ecstatic about the news. "Yeah, heard some rumors here and there. Well, you and your superiors know where to find me. I could always go with some extra cash," He scratched his head, carefully watching Cabre's fingers dance on the keyboard. "What's the kid got to do with it anyway? Seems like an ordinary spoiled brat to me," Eddie threw me a look, blinking twice. The fatigue and wariness, courtesy of Venom, had begun to recede quite some time ago; with Eddie's signal, I knew the shitshow was about to start very soon.

Eddie was smart, however, finding out the bits of information SHIELD hadn't bothered to disclose to me. The residue that the cursed box had left in me was removed, so I could not understand why SHIELD was still guarding me. There had to have been another reason, a reason that neither of us knew for sure.

Cabre paused his typing. "We've been watching her for years. She's a genius. We were hoping she could help us solve a few problems..." The merc paused to rub the bridge of his nose. "We tried to get her to come willingly but her parents forbade her from it. My superiors suggested to use the artifact but something malfunctioned." For all purposes, Cabre was looking apologetic. "I am not overly fond of kidnapping children but some things just need to be done." With that, the man turned around, landing his eyes on me. "Glad to see you're up and about." Something about his smile was unnatural, forced, malicious.

"Charmed to meet you," I sat up, dazed and confused about the turn of events. The things he was saying, they didn't add up. I hadn't received any requests for my participation in ANY kind of project, illlegal or not. No scholarships, no internship offers. Something was very, very wrong.

As soon as Cabre's back was turned, Venom enveloped Eddie, turning themselves into the seven feet tall outer space monstrosity I had seen on the first day. Their combined form was terrifying - but Cabre's fingers merely twitched at the rapid change of the situation as he took slow steps towards me. "Hmm," His voice still quiet, he once again crouched in front of me. "You fought us off once but we are many. There is nowhere to run, child," Cabre's eyes began to darken, his speech turning flat.

I recognized the speech pattern, recalled the expressionless, vacant face that stared at me. Cabre was infected with the Legion from the cursed box; I hadn't prepared for that, hadn't even regarded that, thinking the little epic speech the demon had given me was a mere intimidation tactic. Fear bloomed within me, opening it's jaws like a hungry Venus flytrap but I refused to succumb to it, clenching my fists against the waves of paralyzing terror.

Venom made a confused growling noise behind me, extending a tentacle to push Cabre away; with a sickeningly wet splat, their whole form collided with the opposite wall, sliding down it like a puddle of misshapen goop. "MORSEL, GET OUT." The symbiote growled, reforming itself back.

"Silence, beast!" Cabre shrieked, unstrapping his weapon and aiming it at Venom. No bullets came out as he pressed the trigger but my ear started ringing, eyes watering as the whole form of the symbiote began to morph and ripple. Pained groans and whines came from them. A sonic gun?

"Screw you, man," I attempted to draw Cabre's attention to myself by kicking out a leg towards the gun, disrupting his arm briefly. Things were going to shit faster than a party full of teenagers and alcohol. "Fuck you, listen, FUCK YOU!" I knew antagonizing people was my best skill and that's what I did, figuring the time needed for Venom to reassemble themself could be acquired if Cabre was pissed off enough at me.

The backhand hurt, not going to lie. I saw stars from that one sloppy hit the possessed merc delivered to my face. The adrenaline rush allowed me to stay somewhat coherent and just like that time when I was trapped in my nightmares, I dove for Cabre, winding myself around him as both of us landed on the floor in a heap of limbs.

Despite my best hopes, Venom remained a puddle of black on the floor. I saw something shiny attach itself to Eddie's chest; apparently that something prevented them from combining into one again. My smaller size proved to be a great advantage; I remembered Venom's words about being a suitable short-term host and with a shriek, I placed my palm into the nearest piece of symbiote I could reach, my vision being obscured by blackness a second later.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you

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pandoraborn · 4 years

Text

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 6

( previous. )

Characters: c!Tommy, c!Wilbur Word count: 1896 words Content: wilbur soot & tommyinnit are siblings, reference to abuse, reference to torture, reference to death, healing, wilbur makes amends,

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Wilbur’s walking too fast for Tommy to keep up, he has to actually jog just to remain a step or two behind the man. It’s not hard to figure out where they’re going; they’re easily headed for some beach.

Tommy doesn’t want to be here. He wants to at least stay in the cabin if he’s to stay put anywhere, but Wilbur had given him a shovel and an axe and told Tommy to follow. There’s never much of a choice with an order like that.

Wilbur also hasn’t spoken to Tommy in close to an hour now. The trek is long, but it’s also a torture all on its own. Tommy doesn’t do well with silence, fearing that Wilbur is silently judging him or sizing him up. He feels very much like he’s marching toward his own demise.

He very well may be.

Keeping his gaze down, Tommy tightens his grip on the handle of the shovel, trying to keep focused on staying right behind Wilbur, ignoring how much his legs are hurting.They’re passing by abandoned portals, portals they could easily light. The idea that there would be paths waiting for them on the other side is a far-fetched idea though; they’re too far out from any sort of civilization.

After what feels like forever, Wilbur finally stops. Tommy stops next to him, peering out at the water. It’d be so easy to craft a boat and sail out toward escape, but that would just be more isolation and loneliness. The potential escape isn’t worth that.

“Grab as much sand as you can carry in your inventory,” Wilbur explains. “We’re going to have to make another trip, possibly to a desert, but this is good enough.” He offers Tommy a smile. It’s reminiscent of the old Wilbur, the one that ran L’Manburg with all the pride and charisma he used to possess. There are shades of it again, but not enough to induce an illusion that this is good. Nothing about this situation is good. Ranboo and Dream had also disappeared some time ago, and there’s no telling when they’ll be back.

“What are we grabbing sand for?” Tommy asks to fill the silence. He’s already at work, grabbing sand and filing it away into his backpack. It’s messy and coarse, already getting into his shoes. “This already sucks.”

"Explosives,” comes the casual reply. Too casual for Tommy’s liking. He’d already had an idea, but the fact that Wilbur wants them both to fill their inventories, and then make a second trip scares Tommy. Narrowing his eyes, he pauses in his digging to lean against the shovel.

“Why are you doing this Wilbur? Why do you and Dream want to hurt everyone so bad? Why am I even here?”

“Instead of me answering those questions, can I ask you a few questions instead?” Wilbur too pauses, pressing his hands together as he studies Tommy with a pensive expression. “Please, be as honest with me as possible, alright?”

“No promises.” A nod signals for Wilbur to go ahead, however.

“Are you happy with your life right now?”

It’s a very pointed question that has Tommy flinching back. Instinct would have him deflecting or changing the subject entirely, but Wilbur looks like he’s waiting patiently for an answer. This isn’t the revived Wilbur, this is the one that had been Tommy’s closest friend for the longest time... brothers, even.

Part of him is tempted to lie, but that would be pointless. They’d talked endlessly in the void, with Tommy bitching every moment he could about how unfair his life had become. Wilbur knows him far too well.

“No,” Tommy finally mutters, turning away. “I’m not happy, but you knew that.”

“Is there anyone, any single person you trust and want to go back to?”

Tommy thinks of Tubbo, then of Puffy. He and Tubbo are still too awkward around each other, not having had a proper conversation since the final showdown with Dream. Sure they’d spoken a few times, but nothing deeper than arguments over where to live.

Puffy had made some promises, but he doesn’t know her from Sam, and Sam had broken his promise completely. With his shoulders slumping, Tommy shakes his head. Everything about this conversation is fucked up, and they both know it.

“Are you afraid of me?” Wilbur’s not ending his line of questioning anytime soon. This is the one question Tommy doesn’t really want to answer.

“Yes.”

“I see.” Wilbur falls silent as he turns away, going back to the task of gathering sand into his own backpack. The silence stretches between them, and Tommy feels it like a cold sweat on his back. It’s just as piercing as Wilbur’s questions, just as numbing as the afterlife. Silent, too, if the ringing in his ears is anything to go by. Even the lapping of the waves isn’t enough to snap him back to reality.

“Do you remember when we were younger?” Wilbur finally asks. The silence doesn’t snap Tommy back, but Wilbur’s voice does. Always a source of calm, always there to keep him grounded. It’s aggravating, this effect Wilbur has over him. Annoying and comforting at the same time.

“I don’t remember much anymore, Wilbur,” Tommy responds. “I remember wars and death and everything I worked for going up in smoke.”

“You don’t remember you and me?” Wilbur’s facing him again, wearing that ugly serene smile on his face. “You don’t remember how I used to read to you?”

“Vaguely.” It’s a dismissive answer, because Tommy wants to squash anything friendly out of his mind. The less he associates with Wilbur, the sooner they can end this game and he can go back home to his dirt house. “That was a long time ago, Wil.”

“It was our favorite activity.” Wilbur actually sounds sad. Tommy can’t tell if it’s acting or genuine, but he’s being drawn in anyway. Part of him wants to throw his arms around Wilbur and comfort him. A strong, loud part of him is already moving closer.

“I remember our favorite book was ‘The Hobbit’,” Wilbur continues. “I also read the Lord of the Rings trilogy to you a couple of times. You were so cute, hanging on every word. Simple times, Tommy. The best times.”

“I don’t have any best times,” Tommy snaps. “Like I said, I remember lots of wars. Lots of fighting and people dying. You died. I died, and now you kidnapped me. Why are you trying to butter me up? Wilbur this is so fucked.”

“I know. I messed up Toms. I messed up so many times, especially with you. Even now, I know what I did was cruel and stupid. I promise, if you give me one more chance, I’ll make it all up to you. No more pain, no more agony. You’ll have a support system-”

“Do I have to remind you of Dream?” Tommy snarls. His voice cracks as he speaks. “He’s the one who fucking killed me, remember? He had me exiled, he tortured me. And you come in like you know exactly what all took place!”

“Tommy I was dead. Had I been able to stop him, I would have. You know I would never condone anyone hurting you. I don’t like that you’ve been hurt the way you have been. I hate it more than anyone, trust me!”

“You still died and left me alone. If you weren’t so selfish, neither of us would be in this position! My life went to shit ever since you died, you don’t get to stand there and tell me you hate it.”

“I wasn’t good for the server. I wasn’t good for you. I thought that if I was gone, things for you would improve. I thought you would’ve won, that Dream wouldn’t have hurt you, or that your friendships would be strained.”

“Stop, stop!” This is embarrassing. Tommy’s crying, standing there in front of Wilbur and sounding like a petulant child. “Stop talking! Stop making me relive everything, okay? You weren’t there, you don’t get to act like you know what happened. It was shit. Everything was shit, everything is still fucking garbage, and now I’m stuck living with the one person who hurt me, thanks to you.”

“Toms. My Tommy...” Wilbur has tears of his own in his eyes. With his shovel falling into the sand, he gathers Tommy in his arms. Tommy doesn’t resist, because everything about this hug means something. It’s an actual, loving hug, and not a ploy at manipulation. He can feel it in the way Wilbur is holding him, rocking bath and forth with tiny hiccups. “Tommy I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry you were hurt and cast aside by everyone. I’m here now, alright? It’ll be me and you, just like it’s always been.”

Tommy sniffles as he leans into Wilbur. He’s not returning the embrace, but Wilbur feels so warm. It’s been so long since anyone had hugged him like this, or just loved him. He wants to savor this feeling.

“All your long years we’ve been friends,” Wilbur whispers. “Trust me as you once did.”

“You want me to let it all go?” Tommy finally wraps his arms around Wilbur. “I don’t even know what to let go of.”

“All the pain, Tommy. “All the pain, trauma, abuse. All your attachments. Even the memories. With us, you won’t hurt anymore. Dream won’t touch you, and Ranboo is your friend. I’ll be your brother, okay?”

“...let it all go...” Tommy relaxes more into Wilbur’s embrace. Slowly, his arms come up to rest against Wilbur’s back. “Let everything I had go, right?”

“I’m here again. I won’t leave you. I promise you Toms. Tommyinnit, gremlin child. Vice President, and my best friend, brother...”

“Don’t overdo it now,” Tommy jokes under his breath. It earns a chuckle from both of them. The laughter helps him feel normal, like maybe everything really will be okay. This doesn’t feel like an indoctrination, really. Wilbur isn’t evil. Maybe he’s got some misguided beliefs, but Tommy missed him. There’s no one that can fill the void in his heart like Wilbur can.

“Point is, it’s you and me against the world,” Wilbur continues. “We won’t count the other two yet, so we’ll stick with just us, alright? When all this is over, I’ll read to you again. Any book of your choosing.”

“Will you read me The Hobbit again?“ Tommy pulls back enough to blink slowly at Wilbur. His vision is still wet with tears, but he’s cheering up. “And maybe we can watch the movies together?”

“Absolutely. Anything for you, alright?”

“Then I trust you.”

“And?”

“And...I’ll stay by your side.” Tommy nods.

There are matching sighs from the pair, with them looking awkwardly at each other for a moment. Then, with a blush, Tommy picks up his shovel again and preparing to dig up more sand.

“I still don’t get why we have to do this,” Tommy grumbles.”

“Tell you what, after we get back to the cabin, I’ll let you blow up the surrounding area. You’ve earned yourself a few explosions to vent your anger.”

His excitement is barely contained, with him moving faster and shoveling even more dirt. Okay, the situation as a whole might still be fucked, but Tommy can’t resist playing with fire. As a treat.

#long post #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #c!tommy #c!wilbur #cruelty of the beast #cruelty of the beast part 6 #mention of trauma #mention of abuse #mention of torture #mention of death #healing #wilbur and tommy are brothers #wilbur makes amends #tommy misses wilbur #miishae writes

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Daddy Ain’t So Tough [Starker]

Summary: Sometimes, the word Daddy doesn't necessarily mean you're the one in charge. Or: In which Peter and Tony explore their new little fantasies. Warnings/tags: Nff, smut, incest play/kink, daddy kink, daddy!Tony, bottom!Tony, sub!Tony, top!Peter, dom!Peter, restraints / light bondage, begging & teasing. Notes: HI DEARS! This idea has been in my head for quite a while now and I am so excited that I finally wrote it! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS CAREFULLY. There's some kinks in there not everyone might enjoy. If you do like it, please do continue :) :) <3 And thank y'all for your neverending support! -Kim

Read here on AO3!!

“Daddy,” Peter giggles as he straddles Tony’s hips. He trails his fingers down the man’s gorgeous chest. It’s everything Peter could’ve ever dreamed about- even if he hadn’t done it consciously so. The arc reactor is fascinating to him, as are the scars scattered around it. Obviously, the hard lines of the man’s abs are very welcome too. God, he looks so handsome and strong.

“Peter, fuck-” Tony mutters under his breath. Peter simply smirks and he lowers his full weight onto the man’s crotch, causing Tony’s lips to part in a silent gasp. Yeah. Handsome, strong, and entirely Peter’s

It’s only very recently that they made this, eh, discovery. It’s a weird power shift. Contradictory, even. Yet, the shared pleasure shortcircuits their minds more than they’ve ever experienced before. Nothing’s ever been missing, but this? This is a whole new layer Peter aches to delve into.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good, Daddy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be ruined by me?” “Yes, baby boy,” Tony lets out a breathy moan. “I’m so ready for you.” The older man tugs on his restraints in a desperate attempt to lay his hands on the striking, youthful body on top of him. With his 22 years old, Peter is absolutely breathtaking. Strong, ripped muscles to hold him down as no one else ever had. His legs tremble at the mere thought. “Petey- please.”

“Mmmmmh- that’s more like it.” Peter puts his hands down right next to Tony’s head and leans in to kiss the man’s warm lips. Peter moans when Tony is eager enough to immediately take a chance and suck Peter’s lower lip into his mouth. His cock twitches against Tony’s stomach and a hot surge of arousal courses right through him. Fuck. Fuck. Tony - ever-in-control-I’ll-handle-this-myself-Tony - is the neediest sub Peter ever imagined possible. “Nu-uh, Daddy, don’t get ahead of yourself now-” Peter murmurs and pulls back, smirking at Tony’s subconscious attempt to sneak in one more chaste kiss. Peter sits up straight, his hands finding their way to Tony’s hard chest again. His fingertips brush past the man’s soft nipples, earning him a loud groan. “So hot,” Peter whispers gently. He scoots down a little, now sitting on the man’s thighs, and he leans in again. “Bet you’ve been thinking about my dick in your ass all day, uh?” He sucks Tony’s right nipple into his mouth. No longer soft, nor gentle, but sucking harshly. Tony’s hips buck up wildly. “God-fucking-” “Now, now,” Peter laughs, letting go of the nipple and hovering over the left one. Still awfully untouched. “Didn’t think you’d be this filthy when you raised me.”

There. He did it. He crossed the line again.

Peter looks up and swallows, checking quickly if Tony’s still up for- well… This. Tony’s cheeks flush a bright red and he bites down his bottom lip. He stares right back at Peter- also checking up on the younger boy. They’re still treading new grounds, new fantasies, something neither of them dares to admit out loud just yet. “Well? Did you think you’d be laying here, legs spread wide, for me? What would people think uh?” “Peter-” “Well?” “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck.” Tony babbles, his fingers trembling as he clenches them together. Tony is aware that he has to cue Peter to go on. That he wants in fact pretend to be Peter’s actual Daddy. It’s so hard to say it, though. It’s so awfully wrong and yet his dick aches with want. Peter looks down at him, eyes dark and expectant- waiting for a sign.

“If I raised you so well,” he breathes shakingly, “-then why aren’t your fucking your old man just yet?” Peter scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at him. His eyes are twinkling though, teasing and cunning and Tony whimpers quietly. “You need it that bad, eh?” “Yes. Baby yes.”

After that everything turns hazy for Peter. He growls low in his throat and crawls even further down, kneeling in between Tony’s legs and spreading them apart until the tip of his cock brushes against Tony’s already slick and prepped hole. “All those times you punished me,” Peter rushes out, not knowing where the words come from but they feel so right. “Now you ain’t so tough.” “Just take me, kid.”

Peter doesn’t waste a damn second and he pushes inside without remorse, replacing the heat his fingers had been at a few minutes before. Tony’s eyes screw shut and Peter relishes in the feeling of this handsome, powerful man becoming such a proud bottom underneath his touch. He digs his fingers into Tony’s thighs, lifting his boyfriend’s legs up until they’re wrapped around his waist. God, Tony’s so warm and soft and tight and Peter bites back a pathetic whimper as he inches forward even more- the new position allowing him to slide in deeper. “Call me that again,” Peter groans demandingly. “Wanna hear you lose it for me.” He draws back slightly, now gripping at Tony’s round ass and pushes in again with such force that Tony shifts upwards in the sheets. Peter’s still holding back, not using all his Spider powers, but some. Enough to make Tony’s eyes roll back. “Please, please kiddo, fuck your Daddy.” This time, Peter can’t help the high-pitched noise escaping his throat. He thrusts forward harsh- again and again and again. His movements accompanied by the loud and suspicious creaking of his small single bed and Tony’s choked off moans as pleasure washes over his lover’s face. Peter’s cock almost hurts with how badly he wants to release himself. Fill up the man’s ass with his cum. He wants to claim him, take charge.

Every single drag back and forth has him see stars. Peter’s breath hitches in his throat and he ignores the light burn at his knees where it creates friction with the sheets. It only makes him more feral. More possessive. More… In charge. Nothing else matters right now. All that matters is the sweet melody of Peter’s name falling from Tony’s lips over and over again. The burning pit deep in his stomach grows higher and bigger- warning Peter he’s going tip over that very edge soon. “Daddy, f- ah! Look at you, legs spread wide for your own blood. Fucking filthy, and you even like it- don’t you?” Peter chokes out. “Does it feel good knowing that you no longer own me?” “K-kid-” “Not anymore, not anymore. Tony.”

Peter reaches down and curls his fingers around the thick, hot shaft of Tony’s cock. He squeezes, wants to drag his hand down and- “Aaah! P-Peter! Fuck don’t stop don’t stop dont-” Tony’s words turn into an incomprehensible string of syllables as white-hot come rains down onto his own chest. Peter watches in awe how the man’s face contorts with pleasure and a hint of blissful shame. His tight hole clenches around Peter’s still aching cock- and every fiber of his being wants to enjoy the same overwhelming euphoria. He quickly scans Tony’s face once, not sensing a hint of discomfort as he speeds up his thrusts. Not in the slightest. “Peter yes please fuck me through it. Show your Daddy how it’s done.”

Peter whines and drops his head forward. Curls stick to his forward where a sheen of sweat had gathered. He’s gonna burst. He can’t hold it back. Not even if he wanted to. His primal instincts have taken full charge of his body and he pounds into the slick heat beneath him until finally, his mind blanks out when filthily sweet sensations shake him to his core. He spills inside of Tony, feels how his cum mixes with the now warm lube. How Tony clenches around him to not lose a single fucking drop. Peter lets out a shaky laugh, in complete wonderment of how good this can feel. How much better this is than his own hand ever had been. And when finally, after what seems to be infinity, his eyes flutter open; he’s met with the deep, loving brown eyes of the man he’s been able to call his lover for the past three and a half years.

“Peter,” Tony whispers, body limp and soft and spent. Arching into Peter’s warmth. Peter cracks a smile and carefully lets go of Tony’s legs, leaning down to cover the man’s body with his own. Their legs tangle together while Peter’s cock softens inside of the man. He doesn’t care it’ll make a mess. Peter hums quietly and grabs his blanket to pull it on top of them. “Tony,” Peter whispers back. Tony smiles, suddenly shy. A feature that will always leave Peter amazed. “Was that too much?” Peter asks. Not out of insecurity, but because he wants to gauge how his boyfriend has experienced it. Tony chuckles, turning his gaze sideways. “No.” He pauses and shakes his head. “That was… Perfect.” “Yes,” Peter agrees. His hands gently massaging their way up Tony’s arms to undo the restraints. “I really, really, liked it too.” “The whole kid thing hit home, uh?” “Fuck yes,” Peter grins. “It’s so… You. But also a good different. It makes it feel natural even when it’s play.” “Agreed.”

Tony groans when he finally lowers his arms now that he is no longer tied to the headboard. His arms wrap around Peter’s shoulders, gently caressing him. Peter smiles, his cock now slipping out of Tony fully, and he nuzzles his face against the man’s neck to nib at the skin there. “You sore?” “If I say yes, will you treat me with a back rub and hot chocolate later?” “Of course,” Peter teases along. Tony beams and nods. “Yes. Very, very sore.” “Turn around then.” “Yes, kid.”

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