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agendabymooner · 1 year

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MASTERLIST by agendabymooner

note: what i had done so far... i think?

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

ALSO CHECK OUT:

MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY

MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY

alex albon (aa23)

keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.

fernando alonso (fa14)

the breakup and makeup series

time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc)

heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)

from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)

bonnie and the fame

maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)

ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.

jenson button (jb22)

the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f)

affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.

pierre gasly (pg10)

newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)

lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)

indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f)

high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember.

dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)

do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.

lewis hamilton (lh44)

stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)

thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)

where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)

lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.

melody series (x ofc)

summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her.

one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.

two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?

charles leclerc (cl16)

of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)

the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own (not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men). (f)

lando norris (ln4)

london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)

i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)

honey, honey smau series (x ofc)

summary: hannah-sue ‘honey’ lewis is so much like her sideman brother with the exception of the fact that she didn’t watch formula one as much as she used to back when she had her crush on mercedes driver michael schumacher in 2010.

introduction

one, who tf is lando norris: she knows who she idolizes (and have a crush on; mason mount), she knows that she’s looking forward to getting the hell out of the university after two years of her masters degree program, and she knows that she doesn’t care about the formula one teams that aren't mercedes amg - she also knows she cares about mick schumacher.

esteban ocon (eo31)

the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)

the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.

sergio perez (sp11)

she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.

oscar piastri (op81)

jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.

kimi raikkonen (kr7)

stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)

daniel ricciardo (dr3)

rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)

read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)

mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)

mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)

gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)

kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)

timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)

if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)

baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)

supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)

rush series: wedding special

london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1

fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3

rush: mrs. ricciardo special

part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)

when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)

slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.

george russell (gr63)

his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.

carlos sainz jr. (cs55)

ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)

dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)

mick schumacher (ms47)

she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)

"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)

who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try.

kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie.

lance stroll (ls18)

gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?

yuki tsunoda (yt22)

line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.

max verstappen (mv1)

to loathe and to love series (x ofc) (wip)

summary: there is a massive difference between the two words, but sylvie was more than willing to blur out the line if it means for her to spend some time with what others called her soulmate, max verstappen.

one, it’s time to go: sylvie attended a christmas party and couldn’t seem to do what she normally did on the paddock: avoid max (a)

two, closure: her memories haunted her so much that the red bull team principal thought of her to be incompetent, so it was only ideal of max to face the music too. (a)

three, goodnight n go: she wasn't sure what was more surprising: toto's presence on her graduation celebration or max's expensive graduation gifts. (f)

four, gorgeous: there's nothing more satisfying than seeing christian horner own up to his own mistake. that, and max's office-warming gift that he dropped off in sylvie's new on-site office.

five, cinema: sylvie was left feeling unsure when she and max did things that friends normally wouldn't do after she was broken up with by another man. (hc, mc, s)

six, satellite: max verstappen might've avoided talking about what they had done before all of this, but he was certain he wouldn't get out of his way just to ignore her as he swore not to her one way or another ever again. (a, hc)

seven, mean: sylvie found herself with a million and a half pounds and winning against the boys who brought her racing career to an early end.

eight, long story short: they're friends, they said. they bought a house and adopted a dog together, they definitely did.

nine, mastermind: max wasn't going to admit that he was jealous. he wasn't going to tell her that he sabotaged her blind date, either. not that she didn't know.

ten, comfort crowd: ah yes, the first monday of may. when everyone speculated that sylvie was merely using him and when she finally admitted to missing him for the past four years.

eleven, matilda: they don't know much, maybe, but they know how they'll raise their children away from the toxicity that they grew up in, all thanks to their fathers who did nothing but set expectations. (hc)

extra: matilda volume two, smau: set years after the tltl series in which sylvie and max have the most adorable set of kids called emilia, lila and maximilian. (f)

to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)

lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)

sebastian vettel (sv5)

crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)

sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)

sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)

sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)

sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)

toto wolff

colour me your colour series (x ofc) (wip)

summary: tilly marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. everyone but one. and it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

one, what a beautiful sight that was: it was 2006 and she wanted nothing but to finish her research paper. their curiosity led them to a fifteen minute conversation that they would need to continue eight years after. (g)

two, tilly marie wants to go to hell: it's 2014 and she attended the british gp as a communication liaison for red bull. she didn't know that the man she met years ago was the team principal of mercedes, the rival team that her best friend drives for. lewis hamilton was more than amused to see her flustered, if you were to ask him. (g)

three, juliet's hit list: how can one give the heart eyes? daniel and lewis found tilly and toto flirting behind the cameras and behind the press audience and decided to mess with them. (g)

four, fast lane but not the race weekend kind: daniel and lewis might as well be attending a sleepover if they keep asking tilly about her relationship with toto. (g)

five, how to romance and cry in the same day: tilly goes on a date with toto for the first time and learns about her father's intention to pass ownership to her. (a, f, g)

six, love on camera: tilly and toto have a bad habit of flirting not so subtly.

seven, age is just a number and love is just a shame: tilly, while she believed her mother was right about the age difference between her and a certain mercedes team principal, is sure that she isn't falling fast and hard for him.

colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)

the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)

the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)

the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.

f1 drivers (general)

9 to 5 series (x characters) (spin-off of cmyc and rush)

summary: lorelei hester ‘lester’ alessandro is a bassist first and daniel ricciardo's partner second. but it seems like another role is added to her resume as she begins her weekend in baku as toto wolff’s children’s babysitter.

the original five and the playlist

one, baby names and text messages: lester receives a text message from an unknown number, only for her to offer max verstappen's seat to her boyfriend.

two, max's lowered iq and linkedin profiles: max tries to defend himself as he experiences the morning wrath of lester.

three, the most toto coded children: toto gets ready for the baku weekend by styling his daughter's hair and thinking that he could just stay at home and talk business with his kids.

four, papa, soren and tia's promise hug: lester's more worried that she'll mess up her duties and upset the father of the two wolff cubs.

five, the little weapons of destruction distraction: the first half of her babysitting day consisted of reading too much, learning the word 'accident' and daniel ricciardo being a bad influence on toto wolff's shy son.

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sachiko1309 · 3 months

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I belong to you

Summary: After Aubrey had dealt with her past and finally freed herself from her abusive father, Carlisle made sure to spoil her rotten, buying her a whole island in her name. A new beginning for the couple celebrated with inaugurating their new bed...

This is a part of a story I write on Wattpad (its also finished), as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3457

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, dirty talk (a lot of it), rough, Dom Carlisle, sub reader, Minors DNI! this contains adult content!

He walked us through the house, but I was way to occupied with him and my feelings than to look thoroughly. There would be time a different day. When he stopped walking, he slowly set me down on the floor. I let go of him, watching his face through my tearstained lashes, a smile spreading over my lips. “Not to sound like I am not appreciating your gift, but why?” I asked, my voice still shaky from the crying. Carlisle shrugged his shoulders: “I wanted to make you happy.”

“You don’t need to throw away that much money, to make me happy.” I scolded him. “This is way too much. I cant take that gift. Its… how am I ever supposed to make it up to you?”

“Its not enough.” Carlisle held his ground. “You are here with me. Spending your time with me. You even considered giving up your mortality to stay with me. That’s more than I could have ever dreamed to have, more than I am even entitled to asked for. And still, I have it. This is nothing compared to the things you already gave me.”

“Its expensive! And I want to stay with you, because I love you, not because of your money. How are you even able to afford all of this? I mean, I know you are rich, but that’s clearly another level of rich.” I tried to argue, searching for reasons to talk some sense into him. But my statement seemed to do nothing more than make him laugh: “And I am very grateful that you choose me because of who I am and not what I am.” He said giving my forehead a kiss. “This is not expensive at all. Do you even know how rich I am? I have been working as a doctor for over 200 years. In the beginning I worked in two hospitals one dayshift one nightshift. There is a lot of money that starts to collect itself. More than I could ever spend. And after Alice joined us, trading on the stock market became another source of income. So please let me spoil you. It’s the least I can do.”

I just huffed, trying to retort something, but he just put a finger on my lips. “No arguing anymore. Remember what I told you on our first date?”

“That you are old school?” I asked, raising a brow in confusion.

“Exactly. And what did Bella suggest if the towns gossip would push you out of your work?” He kept on asking without giving me an explanation.

“To become your sugar babe? That was a joke, Carlisle. You cant just…” I was again interrupted. “I can and I will. I am going to be your very old school, very rich and good looking sugar daddy.” With that he simply pressed his lips against mine, ridding me of every chance of arguing back.

“God, how I missed doing that all day.” He mumbled into my hair and I instantly relaxed against his chest, taking in his masculine scent of books and smoke.

Carlisle immediately picked me up again and pressed me against the wall. Out of reflex, I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes, as desire slowly pushed itself to the front. I swallowed and looked up at him, at those beautiful golden eyes that had grown dark with need. When I ran my tongue over my lips, I heard him groan. "And?" I asked, his strong reaction towards my lust making me cocky, heat pooling in my stomach. "What else did you miss?"

He dipped his head, his lips just above my collar bone. "You." He whispered. Cold breaths fanning over my skin made me close my eyes and whimper out in lust, goosebumps rising all over my skin. "I want you." He repeated, his voice a low growl against my skin.

I swallowed hard, as he pressed up against me, the feeling of his hard cock straining against his pants making my breathing go rigid. His hands let go of my waist; his lips skimming up to my ear. A sound rose from the back of my throat, something that felt like a purr. Warmth and desire washed over me again, and I grabbed onto Carlisle collar, saying: “Please, daddy.”

He pulled back, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with passion. After the next inhale, his lips crushed onto mine. I was pulled into a darkened tunnel of desire. His kisses were deep, drugging me senseless. His tongue, all cold and icy, luscious, and sinful, licked and probed its way into the warmth of my mouth. Whimpering helplessly, I looped my arms around his neck. My body already throbbing and aching, arousal pooling between my thighs, and he had just started kissing me.

There was no need to be hurried. His mouth devoured mine, leaving me breathless, and him oblivious to me working frantically on his clothes. “Slowly, little girl.” He groaned when he felt his vest coming undone. “Slowly.”

Carlisle grabbed my wrists to stop me. “Slowly.” He pulled away just enough, his mouth barely hovering over my lips. “Let’s make tonight count, hmmm?” His eyes had grown dark and dangerous. “How…” I started, but his cold breath fanning over my skin made reel up in need. He was able to make me go weak in the knees just by the way he touched me, and he knew it. “How slow are we talking about?” I was finally able to press out.

“Very slow.” He whispered before dragging my face in for a kiss. “So slow…” He savored the lusciousness of his words. “…that by the time I’m done with you, you won't have an ounce of strength left in that beautiful body of yours.” He wore a wicked grin on his face, walking us over to the sofa in front of the fireplace that was set on the light stone wall across the bed. He gently laid me down, hovering over me before pressing a searing kiss to my cheek, just as gentle as when he laid me down.

“I’m gonna eat your pretty little pussy, kitty.” He gingerly kissed me, fiddling with the strings of my dress. I was stunned at his sudden change in demeanor. Normally he was very careful of the others hearing our interactions. But it seemed the more time we spent together, the bolder he got. Finally, able to loosen my dress enough, he shuffled it up my body, pulling it over my head.

“Fuck.” he breathed. “Feels like you’re trying to kill me already, love.” Keeping his place between my legs, his arms trailed up my chest, playing with my tits. “So fucking gorgeous…” Placing my hands on his wrists, encouraging him to continue, I sighed “Daddy…” Head thrown back. I could swear his eyes darkened by four shades, swallowing his pretty golden hues into the abyss of his lust.

Moving from his place between my legs to help me remove my underwear in one swift motion, quickly getting right back to business as soon as he was able to. Once he was settled back between my thighs again, I could feel his hands gripping them tightly. “Such a pretty pussy you’ve got here, little one.” His face was so close to my center, his breath fanned against my skin with every word he said. “Can’t believe you’ve kept it from me for so long.” Littering my thighs with kiss after kiss, each time getting closer to my core.

“I haven’t.” I breathed out, my voice audibly shaking at his actions. He just tutted at my words. “I had to wait nearly 400 years for you to step into my life. Only to then see you being abused by another man. Forcing me to sneak around everyone’s back, only to be with you.”

My hands made their way to his hair, gently grasping his hair and tugging to emphasize my need for him. “Please, Carlisle…”

“Please what, little kitty?” He mocked coyly.

“You know what.” My hips began to rise from the sofa, searching for some relief.

“Uh uh.” He moved his head further from where I wanted it the most. “I wanna hear you say it for me.”

“I… can you… I want you to eat me out, please?” Squeezing my eyes shut, not being able to look at him, as he finally connected his lips with my center. “Oh my GOD!” His tongue traced my clit lightly, barely giving much stimulation, but even that was enough to make my legs starting to quiver.

While his tongue tracing my clit felt absolutely amazing, nothing prepared me for feeling his tongue tracing along my soaked slit, before delicately prodding inside of me. “Fuck!” I shrieked out, his tongue trailing back to my clit before I felt his finger slowly enter my pussy. He raised his mouth from my center, looking me straight into my eyes. “For Gods sake, how I love this.” His voice was nearly a growl. “That sweet pussy of yours hooked me the moment I had my first taste. And by all what is mighty, I will never stop worshipping it.” I couldn’t help myself but mewl at his words. The way he praised me in his old-fashioned way of speaking turning my bones to water.

He was passionate about pleasing me, humming at my skin. Making sure to wait for me to relax, welcoming the pleasure rather than being surprised by it, before he slowly started to thrust the single digit in and out of my core. I tossed my head back against the pillows at the feeling of his long fingers reaching parts of me that I could never reach myself.

“Fuck!” His finger found the perfect spot inside of me, curling to massage it gently and bringing me closer to the edge. My pussy pulsating in rhythm with his thrusts, the wet and messy sounds of my pleasure filling the room. I felt him moan, even more as he brought his free hand up my chest, pinching and pulling my nipple before switching to the neglected breast, simultaneously adding a second finger.

I cried out for him. “I’m so close, please don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” My back began to arch off the sofa, as his ministrations went on, his fingers pounding into my pussy as his lips continued to suck eagerly at my clit. “Oh my…” I rasped, my voice hoarse and thin. “Daddy!” I yelled, as my orgasm washed over me all the sudden. Riding it out, as he refused to cease his actions on my body until I couldn’t take any more and ha to pull him away.

“I need you.” I said timidly, my gaze on the floor. “I need you inside of me.” But the way he looked at me with those dark eyes and predatory look, made me feel brave and…sexy. Carlisle let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I slipped my hand underneath his clothes, gently shoving the fabric down his shoulders. He got the hint, getting up from his knees and undressing himself, making a show for me to watch. His fair skin, scattered with scars from the many fights he had been in, giving his soft appearance a slight hint of roughness, that had me reeling in desire.

"You sound so needy.” He growled, watching me intently as I laid there, spreading my legs for him. "I love it when you are all desperate and riled up for me." He shook his head, a cocky grin appearing on his lips. And I whined at his words. "You are such a slut." He grinned, grabbing me by my neck and pulling me across the sofa to have more space to settle between my legs. But he didn’t. Standing next to me, he looked down with a smirk.

"Do you know what that dress did to me all day?" He asked, his voice a tad gentler. "I should have fucked you when you came down the stairs." A hot shiver ran down my spine and fluttered inside my core. "I would have fucked my cum so deep inside you, until you are a crying mess for everyone to hear. And then I would have had you walk back down. Nothing more than a ripped dress covering you, barely doing anything to keep your modesty, all while my cum runs down your thigh."

I winced at his word, closing my legs in embarrassment. Did he really mean that? "Carlisle…" I started, "…that’s…" I was cut off with a loud moan pushing through my lips as he inserted two fingers. His fingers curled once more, and with it, my toes. "This pussy belongs to me." He pumped his fingers inside of me, slowly crawling on top of me. "Your pussy belongs to me. And I will have it whenever I want it."

Without a warning, his fingers abandoned my needy core, his cock taking their place. The thickness stretching me out, as the head of his penis pressed against my puffy walls. He pulled out quickly, then bottomed out once more. His hands gripped my hips in a bruising hold, his thrusts just as rough. I cried out each time he filled me up. It was too much, but not enough at the same time. He had never fucked me like this before, without preparing me with his fingers thoroughly, but I relished in it. Relished in the way his balls slapped against me with a wet snap. Relished in the way he made a mess of me; my wetness being smeared around between us.

"I belong to you." I whimpered, back arching and hands gripping his biceps, as my nails failed to dig into his skin. Carlisles thrusts faltered and he finally looked at me. He pulled me flush to his chest, my bare breasts against him. Gripping my chin and looking deep into my eyes. "Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy. Forever." I repeated, my voice slightly muffled by his fingers gripping my chin hard. Picking up his pace again, he let go of my face, grabbing both of my hands and burying them beneath his fingers.

Like a ravenous predator, his eyes meet mine. A pleasure visible inside of them, that was beyond my wildest dreams, the high I so desperately yearned for just a tad too far to reach. “Please.” I whimpered, finally completely pushed over the edge and into submission. His previously slow pace got replaced by a more moderate one that had me gasping for air. The searing heat returning, yet this time it was more than welcomed, much like his cock, leaving not a spot untouched in its way.

“Daddy…” I whispered, not able to do much more than moan or plead his name. My head hung back, lips parted and back arching as I gave myself into his hands. Soon my moans were accompanied by his groans, showing how much this affected him as well. It was the sound of his voice, growling my name followed by a string of curses, that dragged me towards my release in fast steps.

“Carlisle, please…” I breathed out, loud enough to catch his attention. “More…” Arching my back, to press myself against his chest, unable to fight his strong hold that held me in place as he pounded into me mercilessly. “M-More, please” I rasped.

His response was letting go of one hand and grabbing ahold of my hips, as he kept on driving himself in as deep as possible, knocking the air straight out of my lungs, leaving me clutching onto his shoulder and hand. “It’s as if you are trying to send me over the edge just by looking at me.” His voice was low, unsteady. A mere shadow of its usual self. “My pretty little girl, so eager to be ruined.” I was unable to even process his words. All I could sense was him, so I shrieked, when he let go of me and roughly manhandled my legs upwards.

With knees now brought to my chest, I could do nothing but claw at the pillows, as his strong hold kept me in place. The feeling of his cock more prominent than ever, as blind spots were slowly taking over my vision.

“Carlisle!” I yelped, but my train of thought got interrupted by another thrust.

“This is what you requested, is it not?” He growled. A mewl ripped from my throat, a series of pants and gasps filling the room before my jaw was in his grasp once more; forcing my gaze upon him. “It is what you begged me for. To give you more, is it not?” He repeated.

Not being able to do much more than gape, I parted my lips, staring into golden hues now wild and firm, boring into my soul. Even though I stared at him, I could not focus on anything, all my attention on the snapping of his hips, the feeling of his tip touching that one bundle of nerves that made me cry out in desperation. “Th-There - There!”

My words were jumbled and slurred; my brain drunk from the bliss overtaking my body one tidal wave after another. I bucked my hips, frantic for that sensation to grow stronger. “Here?’’ He drove into my core again, prompting my eyes to fall back into my head. The only word I was able to say being his name and hushed pleads, interrupted by countless gasps, and mewls.

A familiar feeling started to rise within the pit of my stomach, sending all my senses into overload. It was blistering, devastating, and I was unsure how much longer I could hold on. With Carlisles fingers now capturing my clit between his thumb and forefinger, combined with the icy heat of his kisses on my neck and shoulder, it was beyond what I could have ever asked for.

Searing, hot, like a rapid, undying fire my body started burning. With eyes barely opening I tried to warn him, yet my core did it for me. Walls clamping down, earning a curse from him, as fresh marks now stained the skin of my hips.

“C-Can’t - I can’t.” I cried out, but he cut me off with his lips, dragging me into a kiss full of passion. Hunger, vigor, intense and demanding, that’s what crossed my mind as he kissed me. “Come, my love.” His voice almost drowning in the hurdled cry that left my mouth after he parted from the kiss. “Come for me.”

It was all I needed to hear, to finally shatter around him. My vision turning blurry, as a violent jerk overtook my body, all the nerves tensed and contracted in pure bliss. It was blinding and fierce, and in a fervid moment, I arched my back, finally releasing the blistering heat inside of my body with a cry of his name. Surely heard by everyone in this house.

Trembling, that was all I could do. My frame hit the sheets, head spinning, as I was gasping for air. And I barely even noticed Carlisle being brought to his own release a shuddering growl of my name falling from his lips. The once fervent snaps melting into nothing but a few bucks until he steadily came to a stop.

Once more, my swollen lips were captured by his own, slower, gentler this time, but still as passionate as ever. Unable to come up with much resistance, I merely hummed and leaned into him; sighing as his length retreated from my core, leaving behind an empty feeling.

It took a moment for him to gather his composure, but soon he got up, he was making a run for the bathroom to get a towel to clean me up. At least that’s what I assumed; my head still too fogged up to really comprehend anything beyond the tingly feeling inside my body. Within seconds, he was back, kissing every part of my body he could reach while cleaning me up. “Rest.” It was a quiet whisper. “You did so well, little one.” He sighed, pressing a peck to my mouth. “But for now, rest.”

I could feel him picking me up and carrying me through the room. The next thing I noticed was being sat down on a soft surface. But when he let go of me, I cried out for him. Immediately his cold hands were back on my body. “Shh, my love. Its alright. Sleep now. I am here.” Closing my eyes, I registered him climbing into the bed as well. Cuddling into his side, I fell asleep, his arms holding me securely in a cold embrace.

#fem reader #smut #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen smut #carlisle cullen #twilight

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ikkosu · 16 days

Text

HEATED

(prowl.gn.cybertonian.reader)

While rooked into a case he needs to solve, and aside from getting a new partner for, well, reasons — the enforcer is faced with a certain 'predicament' he needs tending.

reader is taller than prowl btw. like, a little bit taller. Or like super tall. I just like the height difference ok. ever since I saw this fanart I just went AWOOGA he's so ndjdjdn his waist damn. I need him submissive. posted this at one am too :D warnings : mild robot gore, and mentions of valve spike. all that stuff.

CHAPTER ONE

UP at the south, Kaon's underground road network hasn't been fairing well these last few solar cyles. The tunnel, swarthed in ink, stretched across from both sides of the labyrinth with each end unseen, fading off into the deep chasm. The only light source now was Swindle's flashlight that lit a soft halo on the ceiling.

The tunnel was extremely obscure under radar. After several Deceptions attempted another revolutionary feat it was then banned of entry. You can barely trace any energon trails entering and leaving the tunnel. Small wonder it was chosen as a hideout — disregarding, of course, the daily patrols now that occured at fixed intervals.

Grimacing, he shifted on his pedes to avoid the murky puddle on his right. The shroud of sulfuric egg, rotten scum and the churn of garbage danced by, and Swindle wouldn't have chosen this place at all if it weren't for the pleasureable sum he's about to be gifted with.

This better be a good deal.

And, on cue, the silhouette of a mech emerged from the shadows, quelling any sense of irritation he had for the late timing. Chastise would be normally an appropriate response. But he figured there'd be no point about huffing now when he's sure this mech's not a force to be reckoned with — and is frame shouldn't be : optics a darkly blue, gold platings a pulsing radiance under the beam of light.

He's a physical embodiment of a shanix-jacked aristocrat. The ones those 'cons' would surely give a good beating to. Him, on the other hand? They're good customers. The best, if any.

"Traffic, eh Senator?" Swindle approaches, servos itching for a good deal. He's already skimming through the many treats he's got under his sleeve.

"Hardly." He grunts with a dismissive wave. "Just some mindless cogs trying to interfere with my work. I ought to establish some policy to prevent them from being this, ugh, trying."

"Believe me, those coppas are as persistent as sparkeaters leechin' off a snuffed mech." He mused.

The mech laughs, a deep rich rumble pricely enough to conjure gold bars. "It's a mystery to know when they'll emerge unannounced."

" Now, onto business. What do we have, here?"

Between them, a barrier, is a table. Producing a rectangular black box from his subspace, the mech sets it down on the surface. Inside, a clink of something can be heard like wind chimes fluttering against the breeze.

"All the crystals from the best of all cities and planets." He said. " Iacon, Vos, Teran, Xaraen — Camien delight, your favorite, is also a plus."

"Ohohoho!" Swindle unlatches the cover and beams at the myriad of vibrant gems. "You can't be giving me these beauties all for nothing, eh? What do I owe you the pleasure of?"

"Oh, nothing grand. I'd just like the usual."

Swindle, for a moment, visibly sags. " Sorry to disappoint but with all the bots cracking down on all of my sources. I don't got too many interesting Intel these days from hiding."

"Oh, no, no,no, no." He waved a servo to stop him." Not the surveillance. I don't need that. I've got enought. What I need, however. Or, rather — my boys on the air has been lacking in some...condiments for their next heist. See to it that they're sufficiently provided."

Now, that's a target he could aim.

"We-ell, why don't'cha just say so?" Swindle grins, interest piqued. "Y'got a benefactor to spare?"

"Quite. He's not very compliant at the moment and I'd rather he is. Could you, perhaps, 'alleviate' that stubbornness of that dear mech?"

Swindle chuckles and does a half-bow, servo on his chassis."Well, my good sir. Anythin' for the customer is a good go. It's in my policy to do so much more than just alleviate his stubbornness." He pinched his foredigit and thumb. Then, rubs it." For a small extra charge, of course."

He throws in several more shanix onto the table.

"I take it you'll be swift?"

"Quick as a turbofox in heat, I assure you."

Ivory white flashes as he grins. "Happy hunting."

THE sun peered between the dark blue clouds of the smothered the sky. Iacon and it's stretching towers loomed above like jagged mountaintops, abstract and austere in all it's glory.

Prowl grips the railings tight. He leant over and rested his helm against the cool metal. Much too cool against the feverish temperature of his helm. Slow and steady he vents, attempting to cool down his heating frame.

The chronometer beeped five thirty. He's outside. Outside in the barely risen morning, disturbed from a barely slept slumber and dragged out to barely risen city straight into a murder scene.

The scenery fleets by in a thin film of blue. Enforcers litter the region, half a mile at most, rousing nearby apartments and living spaces for questioning. Gradually, front porches open. Dawdling mechs and their slow blinking optics, half sleep-induced, are jostled awake at the sight of the officers.

A passing mech was jogging around the vicinity when he supposedly stumbled over a concrete slab. A quick double take proved it wasn't a slab but a dead mech sprawled out on the road, a mini crater indicating the weight of his fall.

And, looking up to the nearby building, where he supposedly fell, a smashed glass on the perfect teeth of windows indicated clear where the incident occured. Obviously, the mech is long gone : grey and parched of color; helm tilted to one side, optics black.

Prowl let's out another breath. It seethed through clenched dentas, hissing out as steam. His servos shook. Footsteps patter behind and Prowl grips it taut to reign it in.

"Sir? Are you—"

"I'm fine." He cuts off the mech. " Who is it?"

The junior officer blinks in surprise, a waver in his voice. "Uh— they, uh. It's someone. They...They claim to be your partner, sir." He trails off, unsure and also surprised at the prospect.

Partner? Prowl skims languidly across the ample litter of mechs bustling about. Only until his optics land on a familiar one, he nods stiffly. "They're with me. You can leave, now."

"Understood."

And not long after did his 'partner' emerged, lifting up the yellow tape, chatting with the passing enforcers amiably before sauntering towards where he stood.

"Not so bustling as I expected to be." You said. " Is it usually this quiet? Or, you could say — dead silent?"

The smaller Praxian had to take several steps back to regard you fully, an unimpressed look on his face. As usual, a loose smile eased at the gesture but you turned away to hide it.

"Enforcer." You bowed and held out a servo.

Instead, he eyes you with a cold reverie, nose raised high and haughty. "Doctor."

"Spoilsport."

And that's what it only took to carve out the familiar, seething scowl. "It's Commander, doctor."

"Actually, it's medic." You mused, optics fleeting over his frame."New paint job?"

"Excuse me?"

Even when he's scowling, the confused puppy look and the flicker of a doorwing alleviated the intimidating factor.

"You look different." You said.

"I don't."

"You kind of do."

"Just—" He rubs his face. "Just what on Cybertron are you trying to insinuate?"

" Come on, now." You nudge him. "Can't a mech compliment a good polished frame?"

Prowl makes an exasperated sound when you gesture to his body. You can't help it when really is shinier than usual. The Ivory veneer plating is practically glowing under the soft rays of the sun. Prowl, however, rubs his face.

"I take it you're aware of your current position?" He eventually says after a moment.

You rubbed your helm thoughtfully, reminiscing the words of Ironhide this morning. All you remember from the debrief was: 'He's a stick down on tha mud'. And also, a stick up his aft? A stick in or stick out? You're not sure.

"Quite." You snort. "Takes a while to get used to it. Especially when Prime didn't inform the reason why. "

"You don't need to know the details behind the transfer."

"Oh, trust me." You said. " I dont think want to, Praxian."

He regards you for a moment before shaking his head, whirling around to inspect the nearby scathes and scratches. Meanwhile, you knelt next to the body and grimaced, sliding on protective gloves. From the corner of your optics, Prowl does as well and he does it with prim and precise movements. It's been a long time since you're out on the fields.

"Why do I have to do this, again?"

Prowl tilts his helm, observing the body at a different angle, the last digit slides inside the sleeve with a plap. "You're experienced with helmichular fracture. Or, working with Cybertronian helms, for that matter."

You scanned the dried energon smeared under the poor mech's helm. Primus, how in Unicron's two aft did he get here? You swivel up. Oh, right. Falling.

"I work with the inner parts. Nothing the same like Chromedome does. That's heinous work. Mine's more on the anatomy, actually."Plating fracture, check. Spinal strut loose and fragile — check. Stiff joints, check. " Couldn't you have figured this out on your own?"

You prod the neck cables, feeling it flaccid. Prowl was silent for a moment. If he was irritated, you could tell by the scowl deepening from the reflection of the puddle beside you.

" I could," he says eventually. "But I don't need your input. I simply.... require a presence to rectify my hypothesis."

Oh? "That's a statement I never thought I'd hear you say." You mutter.

Prowl knelt beside you. He angles himself in a way you would have to look over his shoulder to see the body. The soft scent of datapad and office paperwork wafts by.

"This mech, here, is Strongholt." He said. "He's a member of the High Council. Tasked with handling ammunitions. Obviously, on close inspection it appears as though this body is conformed to the fall."

With the way he worded it, you're sure he doesn't think that way.

"The spinal struts is smashed." You said, optics quick and scaning. "....and everything else is broken. It could be ruled out as suicide but with you here I don't think that's the case."

He lets out a sound you're not sure if it's a conceding one or something else entirely. But he juts out a digit and you look at where he points. Disregarding the scratched plating, some regions of the surface were unusually glossy and some were worn.

"He hasn't gotten his plating polished." Prowl says.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think so?"

"He rushed all the way here in the dead of the night. Why else would he do that?" Prowl rests a servo on his face, mumbling into it thoughtfully. " Senator Stronghold is have said to taken care of his plating with precise delicacy. But this time—" Slowly, he traces a digit along the platings. " —Observe the fringes. It seems indelicate along the seams. His arm is polished but the rest isn't."

"Oookay." You try to grasp the pieces together. Trying to fit in the missing cogs from the machine. "So, he didn't jump. Is that what you're saying?"

"Not suicide."

" Then, what could it be?"

"He brought himself to a place." He muttered. " To somewhere. Unless it's someone and if he complied then it's not a matter of force-handing, is it?"

"I'm assuming things aren't as what they seem to be, apparently."

Prowl taps his thigh in an irritated manner. Either he was talking to himself or to you, it was hard to tell. But with how he disregarded your questions and looks — it was obvious he's cooped up in his thoughts.

"Dragged up there." He continues the muttering to himself. You noticed he's a little restless with the mini-movements he makes. From the rock of his kneeplates and the subtle, but often, flick of his doorwings. " No, down here. He walks. Over there. Then, close to the pole. How many footprints?"

You snapped out of your thoughts with a jolt, scrambling for an answer at the sudden question. Lamely, you said. "Five?"

"No, it's three." He waves at you dismissively. "Foot prints indicate long exposure to standing. Disagreement ensues. Blunt force trauma to the helm. Dragged up—" On cue Prowl swivels up. "Then pushed. Guise of a murder. Two mechs. An accomplice, to be precise."

" A what— Wait— so, hold on." You tug him close, lowering your voice. " He orchestrated his own death?"

Prowl leans away.

"Were you even listening to what I said?" He gives you an incredulous look." If you have so much to lose, would you really do that?"

You groan. He's not helping one bit."You're being real cryptic right now and I'm trying my best."

"No, not orchestrated." He vents. " That'd be ridiculous. But miscalculations did occur during the 'composing' of the Orchestra. He's compliant all but for the money. Both a victim to his faults and thinking."

You turn over his words in your processor. The lingering feeling that this isn't some kind of suicide rules out clear and Prowl had, somehow, figured it beforehand.".... You dont need me here to help you figure out case, don't you?"

He gives you a look that basically confirms it : a smug, but begrudging tug of his lips.

"I need you to confirm a certain theory." He points to the helm. " Blunt force trauma — Zero point."

You move over to the chassis and unlatched the plating. As expected the spark chamber indicated clear signs of restrictive energy flow from the burnt out, damaged ports. This could only occur if—

"He had suffered heavy blunt force trauma." Prowl stands up, gripping the railings with a vent.

" So, this is murder." You follow him, pacing around, a bit reeling from the new turn of events. "Its— it's murder, right?"

" We can't prove it is yet. We..." He trails off, then shake his head. "Tommorow when the warrant comes we'll able to consult his company....and...."

"Prowl, mech. You good?" You turn to the Enforcer who's looking a little off to be well, right now. "Hey, you need a moment?"

Crime scenes aren't the most pleasing sight to behold. Especially, the brutality of it all. You just didn't expect Prowl to be affected this badly.

" I'll—" He clutches his chest, shudders and groans lowly, stumbling forward.

"Prowl!" You caught him before he could hit the ground and instantly limps against your body, venting hard.

His frame was warm. So warm that once you touched his shoulder every moisture on the tip of your digit sizzles into steam. He's shaking and Primus, he's burning!

"You're sick and you didn't tell me?!" You laid him against the railing, loosening his taut platings to let air inside. Steam practically chuffs out from the pistons, smoldering your face with vapor when you unlatched the clips.

"I'm not sick." Was his weak protest and he pawed your servos away, attempting to get up. "The warrant—"

"Don't even try." You push him down. "Your optics are glazed! Plating is burning even worse than a typical fan-clog fever!"

"I'll get through it." He grits out.

"I'm sending you back. Doctor's orders."

He lets out an exasperated sound. " You're stalling the process! I need to solve the case before some overcharged single brained processor messes it up. "

"And you'll smelt into alloy by then, little mech." You clicked on your comm. " I'll deal with the body and I'll deal with the paperwork. You, on the other hand, need ratchet. If you preach for efficiency — then be compliant to it. "

Prowl opens his intake but ozone burns his tongue and another shudder sears through his platings. He turns away from you, groaning lowly. Maybe it's better if he complied because, right now, all he feels, is like a mech doused in gasoline and set on flames.

"Will you be fine?" Ratchet cocks a brow

Prowl grunts, swinging his legs off the medical berth. " I'll manage."

"Sure? Your internal processors are charged up than usual, Prowl." Ratchet grimaces at the datapads. Doesn't look much too good, if he had to be hoenst. " I wouldn't recommend you going about your tasks if you don't want your battle computer burning out out."

Prowl keeps quiet. He can feel the wanton heat pooling in his panel, itching, clawing to be spring free and abuse.

" Prowl?"

He sucks in a breath. "I need to go." And with that he turns on his heel and leaves.

He shouldn't have known it would be today. Especially, when the signs are clear enough these past few weeks : frequent mood swings, strange cravings at strange hours

He could've have pieced it all together and prevented the inevitable — but when he onlined this morning on his berth and felt the familiar trickle of lubricant coating his inner thighs, it was over.

He was too late.

Heat cycles.

Just the worse.

It was easy to know when it's coming just as easy to know it's going to get worse : the numbness on the tip of your digits, restless frame, unfocused and glazed optics. The desire to lodge a hole into every walk you find. All typical sign.

Some frames are more accustomed to such a cycle. Unlike the smaller frames, larger ones are able to disperse heat more efficiently. So, it was a tolerable task to wait it out during work and return home and take care of whatever problem they had with their conjux. Even better, take heat suppressants and the charge, while not entirely taken care of, is reduced.

But given his Praxian frame slim build, demure size and all, the heat isn't so well dispersed and the intake of suppressants just happens to make it worse. His tanks are sensitive to the chemicals; he took it once and it wasn't fun taking turns purging his tank and satisfying himself.

Prowl groans, squeezing his thighs together as the words blur out from his optics. The datapad in his servos dented from his grip and he discards it on the table, landing across with a tack. Blasted report. He keeps reading the same line over and over and his processors won't digest the damn thing.

He leans against the chair and his helm tips back until his optics met the ceiling. An experimental servo glides down his abdomen and he shudders as it clamps on his heated panel. He gives it a little stroke, venting when lubricant smear the seams. A low whine churned from his throat. Prowl flushes, chagrined.

Mhn. Hot. He feels hot. So, hot. So Restless. He needs to purge out this excess energy or driving him insane. He could head out into the sparring range and punt in a few dents jn the testing dummies but he's too restless for that. He needs something and that something has to be inside and pumping his valve until he's all but a writhing mess on the floor.

The panel slides and a throbbing spike springs out. Ivory in color, grey outline, it stands at attention and the tip weeps with transfluid. Prowl slides his digits inside the swollen valve. He groans as he feels his calipers pulsing around his digits, spreading the folds out.

He can't keep going on like this.

On cue, the door opens. Prowl jolts in his seat and swivels up at the intrusion, lodging his digits deeper inside in tandem of his fluster. It was you. You're by the doorway. Stiff and straight to the brim, optics wide. The datapad you were holding drops from your servos just as your jaw had flung open in surprise

#;) mehehe #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl x reader #valveplug #prowl #i got the next draft ready jts going to be spicay #header is by@cafekitsune!!

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random-brushstrokes · 5 months

Text

Hubert Vos - A young girl from a rich family in Suzhou (1898)

#Hubert Vos #dutch art #portrait #1890s

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redtwin · 6 months

Text

Legend.

#paul ofcharsky #paulofcharsky #ofcharsky #redtwin #rich vos

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lillified · 4 months

Note

On Twt you had mentioned dead colonies, could you talk a bit about it? I'm curious to learn more 👀

I absolutely can!

Dead Colonies

At the tail end of the Quintesson reign and well into the Zeta era, the Cybertronian project began to expand into space, looking to establish itself as a galactic empire (similar to the Quintessons they were following). The new regime's optimism made promising projections about the affair, anticipating the colonies they established would become vital trade hubs, resource hotspots, societies, and even tourist destinations (though some of Cybertron's ultra-wealthy indulged, space travel was far too expensive for this to ever become viable). Although the industry boom following the socio-economic institution of the Caste system gave this ambitious promise legitimacy, it was, in hindsight, completely doomed from the start.

In their heyday, however, it was easy to ignore the warning signs. These colonies stretched from nearby satellites to planets in neighboring solar systems, and they were established to varying degrees of complexity. Some stations were only ever meant to be extraction ports for valuable natural resources. The most famous of these colonies, however, were the settled territories, where groups of Cybertronians were planted and expected to live indefinitely.

Once established, these territories developed independently of Cybertron's culture and society, similar to how the flying polity of Vos maintained its own social identity. In many ways, they were like miniature civilizations of their own, only sponsored and supplied by the Cybertronian government. One example of where their societies differed from the start was in the practice of mooring Titans.

Titans are a subclass of life on Cybertron. They are theorized to be the missing link between Cybertronians and the Primus Superorganism, though that theory is highly controversial. Many Titans are dormant now, existing in a state of extended stasis, but many Polities on Cybertron were established around or even on these Titans, although the full extent of their symbiotic link has been lost to time. Unlike Cybertronians, Titans exist throughout the observed galaxy, likely supplanted by space debris. Though it served no immediate practical purpose, several of these colonies sought out these space Titans to cohabitate with. The most infamous colony to adhere to this practice was Caminus.

Caminus was an extremely ambitious project. It was the farthest of the Cybertronian colonies, whose "bridge" (a series of space stations facilitating navigation to the planet, without which many outgoing ships were lost) was considered a revolutionary innovation in space travel. For a long time it was a shining example of what interstellar expansion should be. A lush natural ecosystem native to the planet, constant technological innovation, a rich independent culture, and a general appearance of abundance made it exotic and attractive to the citizens back on Cybertron.

The colonies existed in excess for a while. Soon, though, the explosion of prosperity and industry from Zeta's widespread mechanization started to trail off, and the Energon crisis was almost inevitable on the horizon. The long-term goal that underscored the effort of space expansion was to eventually find another source of Energon, but that goal was never achieved; by consequence, the endeavor of supporting these colonies became expensive and unwieldly. There was no real end benefit besides maintaining an illusion of abundance.

One by one, the central Cybertronian government slowed down, and eventually cut off, support to these Colonies, markedly including the shipment of Energon. Some of these stations were evacuated with the hopes of reintegrating their residents on Cybertron, but many others, especially the manned trade outposts and extraction points, were simply abandoned. Rescuing everyone was just too expensive.

Of the residential colonies, only one escaped evacuation, though the story is still shrouded in mystery. Before the total cutoff, Energon shipments became increasingly more expensive, dwindling for decades. Caminus felt this bleeding and diplomatic tensions between itself and Cybertron became strained. During one shipment, with no forewarning, an outgoing cargo ship discovered that the final point of the Caminus bridge had completely disappeared, defying reason. All other communications with the colony were also completely shut off. With no way to reach them, and no way to guarantee a safe travel, the ship returned to Cybertron, and the colony essentially disappeared. The story of Caminus would become a longstanding source of mystery and intrigue back on Cybertron, though any tragedy is more a result of bureaucratic negligence than horror.

The rest of the colonies died out much less spectacularly. Now, throughout the galaxy, only old abandoned outposts remain, the skeletons of lives lived there. Like the Quintessons before them, Cybertronian expansion was destined to fail. In the end it only marked another nail in the coffin for the energy crisis, and the inevitability of domestic tensions coming to a fiery head.

#transformers #ask #text post #text #lore #sci fi #maccadam

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my-horniness-is-okay · 1 year

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Hellooo, this is my first fanfiction so please go easy on me 🙏 not beta read so probably some errors. The character is obviously aged up, idk where in the timeline bc I’ve only played the first two games. I tried to keep him in character as much as I could, sorry if it’s not great. MC is supposed to be gender neutral, genitalia and appearance is not detailed.

Synopsis: the head of the Togami Corporation has his eye on the new intern. After hiring a private investigator, he discovers that the object of his affections is a sex worker; he has found his angle to get closer in a way he understands. Paying for what he wants.

Warning: unhealthy obsession, unhealthy power dynamics, nsfw content, graphic sexual content, Switch Byakuya, Byakuya gets pegged lol, oral sex MC receiving, sex toys, prostitution/dominatrix MC, edging and overstimulation, begging and slight dacriphilia, implied stalking, classism, asshole rich guy being conniving and entitled who could’ve guessed, MC is subjected to corporate bullshit, um tell me if I missed anything

Byakuya couldn’t help but feel just a bit awkward. It’s not like anyone at this kitschy cafe would really stare at him this late in the evening, even with him being the sole survivor of the Togami name and all; it was dark out and a weekday so most would be at home, not actively seeking out more caffeine.

This place was your recommendation, and after sending that private investigator after you a while back he found out that this is a place you liked to schedule meetings with clients, but this cafe was too low brow for his liking; tacky decor, shoe prints scuffed onto the floor, and a few too many frazzled college students damn near weeping into their coffee mugs as they furiously hammer away on their keyboards. Not to mention, his tea was a little oversteeped; Just awful, Byakuya thought to himself, clenching on the toy faithfully nestled inside of him, how long do I have to wait in this dump? In reality, it had only been a few minutes, but he had been waiting the whole day to get to this point, canceling his meetings and setting his work aside to get ready for this date.

Byakuya shifted in his seat, feeling himself throb and shiver as he remembered your instructions; clean himself up real nice inside and out, put on that nice new white shirt with the gold detailing that makes him look so pretty, and edge himself. Edge himself until he can’t stand it, until he is shaking and just wants to cry and be gifted release. Then get up, put himself together, straighten himself out, have his driver take him to this ridiculous cafe, and tell his driver to park the car in the alleyway and fuck off somewhere else until he is ready to go home.

Well he did, and now he waits sexually frustrated and irritated at everything, hands trembling slightly around the warmth of his mug as the bell tinkles above the front door and a cold breeze from the outside sends an electric current up his spine. He quickly takes a sip of his halfway full cup as the barista loudly welcomes in the newcomer, who’s murmured hello and approaching footsteps were all too familiar to Byakuya. He tried to ignore the pulse of excitement that shot to his cock, staring down at his drink nonchalantly, but he can’t prevent the quiet whimper that slips past his lips when he feels your gentle hand slide over his shoulder as you walk from behind him into view.

You’re as lovely as always, eyes captivating, smiling gently, and saying something in greeting he wasn’t listening to, far too busy drinking you in. You had all your usual luster but his heartbeat hammered uncomfortably loud in his ears as he gawked stone faced, just knowing you would be touching him, that he would finally be touching you. You look nice, but your clothes are notably non-constrictive. For easy access, Byakuya swallowed, just taking in your presence.

“Togami? Y’alright?” Your voice calls his attention as you sit down across from him, pulling your bag in your lap. He makes a little hmm? sound, face flushed and hands nervously stirring his tea. “Busy day, huh?”

His lips part as he pauses, wondering what to say. The last thing he wanted to do was dwell on small talk. “I’m here on time. What’s your excuse?” You had a quizzical look on your face; true, you were only about 10 minutes late, but that felt like centuries to Byakuya. He had wanted you for so many months ever since you had started interning at the Togami Corporation; You were all polite nods and smiles with uncaring sardonic eyes, bracing yourself for the lowly corporate job you signed up for. Even passing him in the hall there was something sarcastic in your bow, something joking in your tone- Oh yes what an honor Mr Togami, said with all the eagerness of a wooden board. Something about your frankness, your beauty, your humor- he hated it, hated how crazy you drove him.

“Traffic,” you dismissed lightly with a quirk to your brow. “Never knew you to be one for punctuality- in fact, I overhear enough gossip around the office to know that you’re never on time. Your meetings start and end according to your whims, right Mr Togami?” Byakuya swallowed, eyes trained on your fingers tap tap tapping against the tabletop. “And you came,” your fingers stilled, “right on time for me, didn’t you?” Clenching on the toy inside of him he glanced up to your gaze, quickly looked away as if he had been burned by the mere intimacy of the act, and nodded sheepishly. A tch aww left your smile as you tilted your head at him, your legs brushing against his under the table. “See, you can behave when you want to; you’re even wearing the shirt I picked out for you!” God, how your praises set him on fire, “Does that mean you did everything I asked of you?”

“Obviously, I’m not an animal.” He scoffed; he didn’t really know why he snapped like that when you already could tell how much he was enjoying being under your scrutiny, but what does a man like himself say to such a thing? Must he suffer the indignity of having his intelligence questioned? His hygiene? His physical endurance? His ability to follow simple fucking directions?

“Watch your tone.” You chided quietly, the sultry simplicity of those words made him dizzy, “How tragic it would be for you to have gotten this far just to have me punish you because you chose to be a brat. Wouldn’t that be sad?” He nodded once, his tongue darting out to wet the corner of his mouth as he took a nervous deep breath. “You gotta use your words, honey.”

He felt his pride tightening his throat in defiance to being spoken down to in such a manner, causing him to simply gawk once more. He ached for you, your touch and your simpering mockery and your confidence all had him throbbing with the need to finally feel your skin on his. All he wanted was to be worthy under your wry gaze, to impress you, to please, to-

Suddenly you stood, lifting your bag onto your shoulder and pushing in your chair. “Listen, if you’re not ready for this-”

“I am!” He exclaimed a little too quickly, face scorching hot with embarrassment. “I just- it’s hard! For me to-” Byakuya lets out a slow angry sigh as he averts his gaze, more frustrated with himself than you, “It’s difficult for a man in my position to- to trust someone with this.”

You blinked at him, unimpressed, “It’s understandable to be nervous, but we worked out the do’s and don'ts at our previous meeting, remember? And the NDA.” Something softened in your voice, “I see you hesitating. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. This is all at your own pace, remember? Let’s do this when you are more emotionally ready.” You turn, starting to take your first step away to the door when suddenly he snatches your wrist in his tight grasp. Looking down, you see that Byakuya’s eyes now lack the austereness they usually carry, replaced with an embarrassed yearning.

“I am,” he positively pleads, sounding more sure than ever, “I need this. Please- Please show me.” The depth of your eyes makes him breathless as you search his face for a moment, before slipping your wrist out of his grasp and gently taking his hand, smiling; your warmth against his uncalloused palm made him annoyingly giddy.

“Then be a good boy and put your mug on the counter so the nice barista doesn’t have to come all the way over here to clean it up.” You let go of his hand. “I’ll be waiting by the door.”

A burst of excitement shoots through his chest, full of relief as he gingerly stands up, the toy settling inside of him as he grasps the half full cup by the rim. He is so ecstatic at not letting you slip through his grasp, he only is slightly affronted at having to do the plebeian’s work and return the ugly mug of oversteeped tea to the sticky counter, where the barista is too preoccupied with their phone to even thank him for gracing the trash bin they called a cafe. As he gently sets the glass on the granite counter, Byakuya watches you across the room; you’re looking through your bag triple checking you have everything you need, glancing out the window and checking the time as he approaches you.

“Good boy~” You purr, looping your arm through his. The bell above the door jingles as you enter the autumn night air together.

…

If he knew about how all consuming you would become to him, Byakuya would not have left finding interns for the Togami Corp to his underlings; he would have vetoed their decision, thrown out your resume, and eradicated the problem like crushing a bug beneath his expensive boot. This passion, this weakness has ruined him he knows, but the secrets of Pandora’s box cannot be silenced, and dammit neither can he while he lays underneath you.

You had thrown down a towel on the plush leather of the backseat of the car Togami arrived in. With his trousers, coat, and boxers discarded haphazardly over the partition and on the cab floor, Byakuya laid facing up with his white and gold shirt partially unbuttoned. You said missionary so he is in missionary, you said to hitch his knees up to his chest so now his socked feet were brushing the ceiling, and you said you wanted to put him in a cock ring and well, here he was.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby~” You mutter between kisses. He can hear the grin in your voice but he can’t care when you’re playing with the plug he brought inside himself, teasing his entrance with one hand and the other trailing up his chest to his throat. Diaphragm rising and falling, his dark pink head was leaking with arousal, aching and needy to burst already as your strap on brushes against his length. The car was filled with the humidity of sweat and cologne as you both took shelter from the quiet alleyway.

Using the bottle of lube from your bag you prep the strap for him, the slick sound emanating in the small space makes electricity shoot throughout his body. It was finally happening, having you so close and so alone; it almost felt like a dream to Byakuya, staring up at you like he was in a spell. The light from the street lamps outside barely illuminated you, the enclosing shadows making the space seem smaller, more intimate. The thought that no one but him was seeing you in this moment had him damn near keening. This was all for him, he owned this hour with you.

The plug was set to the side and Byakuya shakily sighed at the loss of sensation. Teasingly dragging the tip around his entrance, the slippery silicone of the toy creates a quiet squelching sound that makes Byakuya throb. Watching you unblinking, his desperation emanates from him, his pink lips silently form the words please please please.

As you start to ease in the head of the toy, his lips press together, glasses askew and eyes closed in a relaxed focus. A quiet noise resonated from his throat as it slipped in, his flushed chest rising and falling under his half unbuttoned dress shirt. Under you with his legs hitched up to his chest, his head was thrown back in pleasure and a few stray tears wetting his lashes and trickling down his temples.

“You’re so pretty like this, pet,” you coo, and he really is, “doing so well. Take me a bit more, yeah?” He shakily nodded, so you gradually pushed the girth deeper, his lips parting at the stretch. “How’s that feel, baby?”

He takes a shaky deep breath, practically panting in arousal as his member twitches, and his smooth white thighs shaking under his vice grip. “More.” He murmured; It doesn’t sound like a command like he intends it to be, more like a whine.

You give his thigh a hard smack, and when he jolts he accidentally rocks back and forth on the strap-on, gasping and opening his pleading eyes.

“Is that how you’re supposed to ask?” You say, your fingers massaging the tender pinking flesh. The words have him clenching around the toy, a tingling sensation darting through his limbs.

He chuckles diverting his wanton gaze up to the ceiling of the cab, Adam’s Apple bobbing, he clings to his embarrassment a bit longer as his tongue darts out and quickly licks his bottom lip. “I, uh-“ he falters, not because he doesn’t know the answer, but because he’s not sure if his pride can handle listening to his own voice admit to what he wants out loud.

You strike him again on the same side, this time on his ass cheek. A sigh, almost a squeak, escapes him as he furrows his brow at you, his eyes misty with longing and bashfulness. You start to pull out and Byakuya’s mouth drops open at the feeling; the head of the toy catching on his entrance before pushing it back in shallowly, only as deep as you had gotten before. He nearly keens as you strike him again but harder, lazily dragging the toy in and out, shallow thrusts that do nothing but tease his entrance.

“Please.” His voice cracks, eyes watering as he stares desperately, trying to move his hips to pull the toy deeper, so he gets another spank. He hums a stifled groan, heart skipping a beat.

“Please, what?” You demand with a shit eating grin, watching his obstinance melt under the pain and pleasure.

You, You, You, maddening beguiling You with your razor sharp smile somehow draining him of his dignity. He never signed up for this religion of his, but he found his new god in You whether he liked it or not.

“Fuck,” he grunts, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head away; his mouth is rosy and a little swollen from being kissed so much, and you can’t help but feel like there is something a bit Adonis-like to his face when he isn’t being so cold.

You grip him by his disheveled hair and force him to look at you; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and squeaks under his breath. “C’mon, pet,” You smack his hip hard, so much so that he bleats, his brows knitting together as he looks up with humiliated pleasure, “use your words.”

“I-“ As he falters a quiet whine resonates from the back of his throat, “I need it, please. Please fuck me. I- Master, fuck, I-“

He’s cut off as you finally thrust in deeper; his eyes roll back as he lets out a shrill ecstatic sigh, giving him what he so desires as we ease up to the hilt of the toy, your pelvis snug against his, the tip of the toys nestled snugly against his prostate. Dropping your grip on his ruffled blond locks, you caress up and down his soft thighs, letting him get used to the length.

“Better, sweetheart?” He jerks his head in a vague nod to the question. His breathing is ragged as he savors the stretch, lost in his own world as he trembles excitedly. His cock pulses, dripping and twitching on his abdomen.

“‘M ready. Please, master.” His tone is a little childish, a petulant whine to beg for his reward. A choked sob escapes him as your hand rubs his balls and you start to gently rock back and forth inside of him, admiring his flushed cheeks and focused expression.

“See, baby?” Your voice chimes with an undertone of mocking, pulling out a bit more for some real thrusting, “see how easy it is when you just behave? Get you everything you want.” As the toy gets pushed back in he lets out a small cry of pleasure, “Everything you want.”

Setting a slow pace, low drawling moans reverberate in his chest as people pass by at the entrance of the alleyway, just a few paces from his begging and debauchery, just a few meters from witnessing this young man’s dreams coming true. Byakuya reaches up to pull you in closer and kisses you feverishly, and when his lips open begging to taste you his noises are freed from his throat; between each lick and thrust he vocalizes, he can’t help it, filling up the tiny space. In this moment he is a thing to be owned, nothing else exists.

“Doin’ so well, being used like this. So perfect for me aren’t you?” He moans an ardent affirmative, “This what you want, baby?” You ask between kisses, a hand teasing his head.

He’s breathing heavier now, holding back his shrill panting in the back of his throat as the toy massages deep within him, grinding his hips flush against yours. “Please,” it’s a barely contained whisper, he has tears in his eyes and he looks like a dog begging, “please- I just need it. Fuck me hard. Please.”

Byakuya bites your lip and he grinds his hips in tandem to yours, his hands releasing their hold on his thighs, his feet planted firmly on the ceiling of the cab now as his hands grip your hips pulling you into practically lay on top of him. “Hmm?” you breathe, the sound almost a moan as his long elegant fingers grip like a vice into your back, into your skin. He can feel arousal of your own dampening your inner thighs at this point; Byakuya smugly wondered if you got this worked up for all your clients. Jolting him out of his thoughts you reach down and start to fist his straining cock, leisurely dragging the foreskin back and forth causing him to gasp and tense up, unconsciously pushing the strap out by an inch or two.

“No, please, not like this, I-“ he whines in a panic, gripping the wrist that has a hand on his dick; Byakuya stills you entirely, his fingers massaging your skin as he tries to relax and slow his breathing. Sighing, he plants kisses along your jaw over to the hollow of your ear, “I want- master, god fuck- just, please fuck me for real already, I- Oh~” Cutting him off as your hand lifts from his cock and grips his throat, you draw the length out and when you quickly snap your hips forward, his voice cracks he cries out so loudly and suddenly. Back and forth, you keep the steady rhythm, gripping his white hips and pounding into him hard, watching as he comes undone. For a moment his hands scramble for purchase against the leather seats, desperate for something to ground him as his loud moans filled the cab, a sensation he had never felt before spreading over every inch of his skin. Pleasure trickles through his nerves like a tsunami, pleasure that for the first time stretches beyond his cock, throughout his whole body.

Like the air is being punched out of his lungs, he rocks up against the seats, the crown of his blonde head brushing against the door behind him, his feet dragging on the ceiling, his long gangly legs framing your shoulders. Removing your hand from his throat, you grip the headrest of the front seat and give him deep powerful strokes that seize up his limbs painfully and have him shaking. Each cry melds into the last, quickly becoming a stream of moans each as loud and undignified as the one prior. The toy hits too deep, persistent and punishing and unbearably good. He doesn’t know how long the feeling lasts, but he remains on the edge of an orgasm like the ebb and flow of the sea; closer and closer still and then receding back into himself again. Weeping openly he begs, he has never felt this good before and that scares him, not knowing if he wants the sensation to end or go on forever.

Falling suddenly silent, Byakuya cums much quicker than he would have liked, gripping you hard in shock as his rigid limbs thrash at the sensation that he had never felt quite like this; like you had lit a flame in his feet and he felt it creep all the way up his body, slowly moving through his torso and making him shiver.

Even after his cock had stilled, his head was still spinning, his heart hammering. Keeping one hand on your hip to keep you flush against him, his other hand reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, bumping his glasses clumsily. He shudders as you carefully remove his cock ring. You were certain that for once not a single thought was in that beautiful head of his as he blinked his wet lashes slowly and dreamily.

When he glanced down at himself, he was surprised to see that there wasn’t any cum on him. He had cum dry, his cock a bit more relaxed after removing the cock ring but still stiff. He almost couldn’t believe that you made him feel that good without the external release he was so accustomed to; he might’ve described it as witchcraft if he was a superstitious man.

“I want…” Byakuya says much too slowly, much meeker than he would have liked, “I want to make you cum. Can I?” His heart soars when you chuckle. “Sit on my face, please? I want- I want to please you too.”

“You are a good boy, aren't you?” Leaving the toy inside of him, he watches you as you unbuckle the strapon from your hips. “Damn near read my mind, baby~” You sound delighted as you crawl over him, his awkwardly long legs cramping up against the door by his feet. His heart melts when you gently remove his glasses from his face with a laugh, setting them off to the side somewhere as you saddle up to his face, gripping his hair and pulling him forward to your heat.

He is shocked by how the smell of your sex drives him mad, incapable of stopping himself from breathing in frantically like a hound as he grips the fat of your hips. After one tentative lick he is hooked, burying his face between your thighs and devouring you feverishly like a man starved. His cock throbs at the taste, his heart leaping out of his chest at your quiet groaning and your firm grip on his hair. He needs this shit on tap, he realizes, Byakuya can’t live without this. Your taste at the back of his throat, swirling his tongue passionately along your slit while groaning in excitement makes him feel high. He is thrilled when you really start to get into it, moving his head back and forth and humping his face like he’s your toy, making his jaw ache. You need him so badly as you grow swiftly closer to your climax, your voice rising and your pace speeding up. Your arousal starts to ooze out of the corners of his mouth as he eagerly works his tongue to your pleasure.

Byakuya’s hips leap when you reach back around and start playing with his throbbing cock; Much to his embarrassment he ejaculates immediately with a loud grunt, pleasure overtaking him once again. The orgasm this time does not keep him in limbo like the last one did, instead it is reliable and easy, though notably more intense than normal. Semen paints his stomach, shooting out of him hot and fast, leaving him trembling ferociously once again. Even after his cum soaks your hand you don't stop stroking him, riding his face harder as you gradually come up on your own release, overstimulating him in the process.

His throbbing pleasure transforms into an aching numbness. Hungrily, he grips you fiercely and yanks you forward, forcing you to lean against the door above his head and suffocate him with your weight, grinding on his mouth. It’s heaven when he finally makes you cum, filling his mouth with you and making you shout. He needs this, Byakuya thinks to himself, he needs this warmth between your quivering thighs forever. It’s where he belongs; It’s where you belong.

After a few minutes, when you come down from your high, you ease yourself off of him with a shaky laugh that reignites his pride. He made you feel like that. Byakuya was the one who summoned the relaxed expression on your face as you straddled his waist, carefully brushing his bangs out of his eyes. You say something but he is so zoned out he doesn’t hear you. “Hm?” Byakuya breathes out, squinting up at your blurry form dreamily.

“Feeling good, huh?” Your chuckle and teasing grin melt his already relaxed self. “All I said was that you did well.”

Byakuya had a hard time thinking of a response. He was so blissed out, so at ease as he absentmindedly massages your now bruising hips. After a long pause he sharply chimed, “Our hour isn’t up yet.”

“Still got more in you?” You sounded surprised.

“Just-” Byakuya slowly shook his head, face heating up. “Just reminding you.” After removing the toy from inside of him and putting it in a ziplock baggy along with the plug and ring, he sat up with his back against the door and with you straddling his lap. “Where are my glasses?” He asked in an annoyed tone. After you retrieved them from under the driver’s seat, he donned them again, blinked at you, and sighed at the sight.

“So what do you want to do now?”

“Um,” Byakuya hesitated, his fingers clutching your soft waist possessively, not knowing how to ask for something more affectionate without embarrassing himself. He swallowed, avoiding your gaze. “I think I- well, let’s just relax for now.” He drawls sheepishly.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you lift your hand and bring it up to his head; his scalp was thrumming from having his hair pulled a few minutes ago. As your deft fingers card through his blond locks, he admires the way you smile mockingly as he unconsciously leaned into your touch. “You’re cute~” He found something demeaning in your tone that sent a pulse of excitement to his spent cock; how the hell do you do that, he marveled.

“Do you… usually cum like that? With your clients, I mean.” Byakuya cleared his throat nervously, his jealousy ravenously clawing him apart from the inside out; he didn’t want to ask it but it came out anyway.

“Why do you ask?” You challenged teasingly, “I do have to be confidential about my clients, you know.” Anger tightened Byakuya’s throat, making him feel hot. Didn’t you know how special this was? How honored you should be that the Byakuya Togami has fallen for you? His own feelings disgusted him, but as your gentle fingers combed his blond locks from out of his eyes and back out of his face, he felt the rage melting out of him again. “Silly boy.”

His deft hands massaged your hips tenderly as he stared at you, watching as you gulped under the intensity of his gaze. You seemed uncomfortable, and some part of him liked it; seeing you squirm and glance away as he stared you down. “I want to schedule another appointment.”

The sound of your surprised laugh made his heart swell in a way he found particularly vexing. “Well I do love good business, but how about you pay me for this one first?” You snapped.

He grinned sleazily, feeling for the first time you were speaking a language he knew how to speak back. He grabbed his trousers from the floor and fished his phone out from one of the pockets. Ordering you a ride home, sending you the thousands of dollars straight from his personal account and pulling up his calendar with lightning speed, he breezed through to your next day off and canceled his meetings for that day with barely a glance in your direction. He knew your schedule inside and out from what the private investigator told him, so it was a breeze to find a day you were open.

Those measly thousands meant absolutely nothing to him; if they want to earn real money they’ll have to actually work for it, go where I want us to go and wear what I want them to wear! Byakuya thought to himself, not that trash cafe and these cheap rags for mere pennies to pay for that little hovel you called home.

He knew that if he eased you into the lifestyle of his caliber, gave you a taste for the finer things in life and got you attached to easy living, he would have you begging to be his lifelong pet- a modern day concubine all for himself. His smile was sinister as he watched you blink at his phone screen with great interest, gawking at all the pretty numbers. With the Togami fortune at your leisure, how could you ever deny him? Eventual mistresses and bastard children be damned, you’d be eating out of the palm of his hand in no time, an empty headed little bird trapped in a gilded cage. And the thought alone had his cock pulsing with excitement again.

——-

Yandere Byakuya smut! Please leave a comment and constructive criticism! I hope you enjoyed <3

#yandere #Yandere smut #Dom reader #smut #rich yandere #Yandere Dangonronpa #yandere byakuya togami #Yandere stalker #Yandere anime #switch reader #gender neutral mc #chubby reader #dangonronpa

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prosedumonde · 3 months

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Le coeur vit par ses blessures. Le plaisir peut rendre un coeur de pierre, les richesses peuvent l’endurcir, mais la douleur… oh, non, la douleur ne peut pas le briser.

Oscar Wilde, Une femme sans importance (A Woman of No Importance)

VO : Hearts live by being wounded. Pleasure may turn a heart to stone, riches may make it callous, but sorrow—oh, sorrow cannot break it.

#Oscar Wilde #Une femme sans importance #livre #book #citation #citation française #littérature #littérature anglaise #théâtre #english literature #english quote #quote

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goggles-mcgee · 6 months

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A Little Birdy Told Me 20

AO3

Beginning Last Chapter

Summary: Damian continues to try and get more information about the akuma class and Marinette while Dick is having an off day and just wants it to get better.

Only one brother gets what they want.

CH 20:

Damian may have jumped the gun on that one.

He admitted that, willingly, in the privacy of his own mind.

“To Dupain-Cheng? I mean sure but why would you like to know.” Chloe asked with narrowed sharp eyes.

Bourgeois was sharp, as were all his acquaintances so there was no point in lying, though he was confident he could do so flawlessly, his acquaintances had proved to be somewhat trustful. They all kept secrets if asked unless it was something trivial which confused him to no end. Allegra could ask they don’t tell anyone what she shared with them when it came to her having trouble mentally or her parents fighting but the group would tell almost everyone in the group how Claude had a crush on so-and-so from class-whatever. Richard said that is just how teenagers and friends are but it didn’t make sense to Damian and he tried many times to make it make sense. The only thing that made him feel better is the fact his father also didn’t understand. When he was in med school he told him how his study group kept his fear of bats to themselves but when he admitted to not being a fan of some musician that that information was shared and laughed at, but he stated clearly that the laughing wasn’t at him, just at the information as a study group member had explained. Again. It was strange, but Damian felt like this wasn’t one of those moments that they would share his information with others.

“It goes without saying that what I tell you does not leave this table,” he began, “I know I said that if I knew something I wouldn’t tell, but given Bourgeois’s forthcoming, I too can be a little forthcoming. Dupain-Cheng is now a ward of my Father for the rest of the exchange.”

Vogel nodded and glared at everyone at the table as if to ward them off even thinking of telling anyone what Damian was saying. It was…nice and appreciated. Vogul reminded him of Cassandra sometimes and it always left him feeling warm yet wrongfooted. The blonde wasn’t his sister but sometimes she felt like it and that also confused him. Nonetheless he gave Vogel a small nod of appreciation. “After the events at Wayne Tower and what followed, it was decided that my father take care of Dupain-Cheng for the remainder of the trip and actual chaperones are being flown in. The original plan of having the class merge with ours has been effectively thrown out the window and negotiations are being made where to place everyone as they will be separated. Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join our class but it hasn’t been decided where Rossi and her sycophants will go.”

Allaway pursed his lips together and looked deep in thought, it was like he was trying to organize everything that was said and unsaid. He was someone who liked puzzles and mysteries. “You guys are building a case?” It was posed as a question but Damian knew the other boy better. It was a statement. Damian simply leaned back in his chair to give Allaway his attention, it took the boy some time to voice his thoughts so Damian waited before responding. “The question is, who is the case against?”

“I would think that obvious by now Allaway.” Damian scoffed.

Allaway stared at Damian intensely until he let out a deep sigh, “Yeah, I know, I was saying it to be dramatic.”

“You’re always dramatic.” Damian countered.

“No. That’s Claude.” Allaway shot right back.

“Guilty!” Hardy sing-songed. Damian conceded. Hardy was always dramatic. Every announcement he made to the group or even the school was so rich in dramatics that Damian wondered if the boy practiced what he said every day to make sure it was the perfect amount of dramatic or if it was something instinctual. Damian felt like it was the latter. Sometimes Hardy’s dramatics confused him but Vogel was good at explaining what the dramatic boy was saying, she was basically the Hardy Translator.

“We are getting off topic.” Bourgeois sighed. “You really want to know everything that witch did to Dupain-Cheng, Wayne? Then you better buckle in and take notes.

Damian nodded and pressed the hidden button on his watch that Lucius Fox and his son Lucas upgraded at Bruce’s request, that would record the rest of the conversation. Though he did take out a notebook and pen, he never wrote in pencil, writing in pencil showed you were not confident in your writing or knowledge. He was trying to break out of the habit though as it was one Ra’s made sure ‘stuck’ with his heir. His grandfather would never settle for anything less than perfect and the one time Damian took a test in front of his grandfather and used a pencil, he was punished. Damian hid a wince at the memories of that particular lesson and instead stared at his watch, it was a replica of his Grandfather's watch , the one he wore when he was murdered. It was a bit morbid but it was the thought behind it that made it one of Damian’s most prized possessions.

It had been a little after he had been…introduced to his father and a little before his father’s seeming demise at Darkseid’s hand that Bruce had taken Damian aside into his study to talk to him. Damian thought it would be another reprimand of his methods but had been surprised when Bruce handed him a small box with a bow on it. He had been so hesitant, so wary, so suspicious that his father had gently taken the box from him and opened it to show a watch. A rather nice watch though Damian had noted its somewhat dated design. Like someone had purposefully made it look vintage. “ It’s made to look like my father’s watch, your grandfather, though I have no doubt you were…informed of my parents before you came here -”

“ I know everything about you, Father, and my grandparents .” Damian had interrupted, eager to prove his knowledge, his worth.

“ I don’t doubt that, Damian, but you were told about them by people who did not know them. That makes all the difference. There is time for stories so you get to know them like I knew them but this is the first one I will tell you. ” Bruce had looked sincere yet a bit uncomfortable, Damian had chalked it up to his father’s weakness of not getting over his parent’s death. Such a weakness was not allowed in the League, but Damian had said nothing of the fact even if he could. Richard had been teaching him just because you could doesn’t mean you should. It was confusing but his father seemed to agree with the sentiment so Damian was doing his best to learn it.

His father continued. “ When my father was ten, his father bought him his first watch. I never met my grandfather, but when I was young, my father told me grandfather wanted to start a new Wayne tradition. When the heir of the family turned ten, they would be gifted a watch. I’m afraid that the reason is lost in time and forgotten memories but my father wanted to continue this tradition. I got my watch on my birthday and 9 days later my parents died. My father had been wearing his birthday watch that night .”

Damian hadn’t wanted to interrupt but he did want to touch the watch and his father seemed to understand that so he passed back the gift and watched as Damian had caressed the face of the watch with his thumb.

“ I admit that I have bought your brother's watches as well but I know you are struggling to accept them. I won’t lie and say I understand but I want to feel connected to them, to me, to this family. I wasn’t able to give you a watch on your birthday but I am giving it to you now. I had this made for you in the image of your grandfather’s watch because I want to show you how important you are to this family and me. I could have easily given you a new watch as I had your brother’s but you deserve a connection to your roots. I hope you like it. ”

Damian had only nodded but the small smile his father gave in return had filled him with such warmth he hadn’t known what to do other than let his father put the watch on him. Later, Alfred would explain that Bruce had the watch built with many hidden features to keep Damian safe and to make sure his son wouldn’t be without a way out of a situation. The watch was made to resemble the Rolex Submariner that Damian had seen in a case along with a broken pearl necklace and some loose grimy pearls. He knows they were keepsakes of his grandparents that Bruce kept in a protected case in the Cave. He didn’t really believe it would make him feel any more connected to the Wayne name than him already being Bruce Wayne’s biological son but wearing the watch and seeing the original in its case when he was down in the Cave actually did make him feel connected in a way he couldn’t explain. Thus it became one of his most prized possessions much like his first straight double edged sword his mother gave him for the earliest birthdays he could remember.

Damian inhaled slowly then exhaled to bring himself out of his memory before he looked up at Bourgeois and gave her a short nod. “Proceed.”

___________________

Dick was doing all he could to relax and show Marinette the company’s botanical gardens as it was something she had wanted to do. It was good to see her smile and flit from plant to plant like a little honey bee or something, but Dick couldn’t get rid of his tension completely. He was always like that after dealing with Two-Face even if it wasn’t the usual confrontation between the two, i.e mask to two faces but it still left him feeling the same. Angry, restless and most annoyingly, scared. He wasn’t the same little scared Robin but dealing with Two-Face always made him feel like he was. He thought he worked past all that! But seeing Marinette in his arms with a gun pressed to her head brought uncomfortable flashbacks of a different tiny black-haired blue-eyed child. A child who got cocky in his skills as Robin and helper of Batman. He could still feel the long-since healed injuries throb in phantom pain. Dick couldn’t help the flash of another black-haired blue-eyed child, older than the first when he learned that being Robin wasn’t magical or whimsical. Thinking of that never did him any good, if anything it brought about an enormous amount of guilt and anger that Dick didn’t know what to do with.

“Mari-gold?” A very familiar voice pulled Dick out of his thoughts and he cursed himself for being so distracted.

“Ivy!” Marinette shouted out in glee as she ran to hug the woman she had seen fairly recently. It made Dick smile though, this kid loved with her whole heart and it was something he admired.

“Now what are you doing here, Sapling?”

“I came here with Mister Dick and Mister Tim. Though we lost Tim pretty early on.” Oh yeah, they did. Though Dick was willing to bet Tim just went to the coffee shop nearby, he seemed to have a built in radar for knowing where they were no matter what part of town they were in. It was kind of funny though since Tim wasn’t even a big fan of coffee, he more so just needed the caffeine. The guy preferred tea but he was really particular about which places made the best tea, specifically a good ol’ Dirty Chai.

“And what brings you to the Gardens today, Ive?” Dick asked, deciding to partake in the conversation.

“Oh just making sure they are doing okay and to give the workers a restock of my special fertilizer.” That made sense, Ivy was, on-the-down low helping the Wayne Botanical Studies team. While Harley helped them more with their night time business, Ivy was content to help in the more official business. With the occasional helping hand stopping a threat if they “got in over their heads.” Her words.

“You make your own fertilizer?” Marinette asked. Look, Dick was also curious about that but after finding Ivy and Jason talking one night with these big-ass smiles on their faces, all teeth, he was like 80% sure that fertilizer was some of Jason’s…problems. But there was no way in hell that Dick was going to try and confirm that, and he sure as hell would not be telling Bruce that little theory.

“Yes! It takes time but it-”

“My Passion Lily! I got your Matcha Lemonade and look! I found a wild Wayne.” They were interrupted by Harley, which was not a surprise, and she was dragging a resigned looking Tim with her.

Ivy merely huffed out a laugh at her wife before taking the offered drink with a kiss to Harley’s cheek. “Thank you, Peanut, I also found a wild Wayne and a little Sapling.”

“Mari-Doll!” Harley squeaked out before almost knocking the poor girl off her feet in her hurry to smother the girl in a hug. Surprisingly they didn’t fall over.

“Hi Harley!”

“You guys saw each other the other night?” Tim said, confused.

“And?” Marinette and Harley asked in unison. It made Dick giggle and helped relieve him of more of his pent up tension.

“Well since we're all here, why don’t we walk around together?” Dick offered. “Bruce wanted Tim to get some fresh air so try not to let him sneak off again.”

Tim gave an offended squawk which had Marinette laughing once more. “I’m fine!”

“Yeah, okay Timmy-Boy.” Harley said with a scoff as she laced her arms together with Ivy and Marinette. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

“You do need some time outside the Manor Tim. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up.” Ivy said as she happily walked with Harley and Marinette. Though she did grab Tim by the scruff of his shirt and manhandled him toward Dick. He looked very much like a cranky kitten.

“What is this? Pick on Tim day?”

“I believe Damian has that scheduled for next month.” Dick wished he was joking.

Marinette obviously noticed he wasn’t if her raised brow was anything to go off. “Oh?”

“He stepped on Titus’s tail three months ago, on accident.” Dick explained. “But Damian is very good at keeping grudges and he’s very good on cashing in on favors.”

Tim merely whined in response and Dick couldn’t help but pity his brother for a second before he remembered how Tim used him as a human meat shield when Condiment King randomly joined in on a fight against some robbers. Apparently he was also planning on robbing the jewelry store after keeping a low profile from his then-recent prison break. Needless to say it took Dick forever trying to get the mustard smell out of his costume once again and had to beg Alfred for help once again. Even though Alfred refused to help with cleaning anything CK contaminated, it spiked his blood pressure or something like that. Dick thinks it’s because of all the first times he helped clean them up when the rogue had been new on the scene. That had been a long month and Dick had seen how Alfred got more and more annoyed each time they came home covered in mustard, ketchup, you name it. It was awful. Truly. So Dick didn’t feel all that bad. Stephanie was already coming up with a list of things to tease Tim about. She specifically waits for the days Damian declares will be Pick-On Drake Days so she has lists on lists compiled for that very reason. She hoards them and never shares until the scheduled day. Duke surprisingly joined in too and started making his own list.

“He’s very dedicated.” Marinette giggled out.

“That’s one word for it.” Tim grumbled.

From there they had a good time touring the different gardens with Ivy acting as a somewhat tour guide and Dick could see it was really helping Marinette unwind as well. The interview with Jim and Harvey had really gotten her tense which was totally understandable, it would be intimidating for anyone. Tim tried to escape a couple times but after Dick teasingly asked if he should get Tim a child-leash and Ivy offered to make one out of vines he stopped. He even seemed to be relaxing a small bit. It was nice, really and it seemed to be something that Dick needed too without realizing it. Eventually they went out for lunch and after they went their separate ways. The drive back to the Manor had been nice too, normal traffic and a nice playlist helped. Tim and Marinette had even made some good conversation, though Dick got worried at the mention of PowerPoints. He hoped it was nothing serious, but the fact that Tim found someone as obsessed with planning and making PowerPoints was a little frightening. Maybe more than a little, Dick could only take so many Tim PowerPoints. He loved his brother, dearly, with his whole heart, but his PowerPoints were long and…thorough. He even tested people on the more important ones with a freaking Kahoot match. Cass and surprisingly Damian always won those.

As they made their way into the manor Dick was pretty much planning on taking a good, lengthy nap to catch up on the sleep he hadn't gotten last night. His brain felt fried and scrambled, like it couldn’t decide whether to sink into the depressing thoughts from before or just remember the good time at the gardens they all had, even Tim surprisingly had a good time. As he sunk into the couch in the family living room his mind seemed to settle on both. His eyes closed and he saw Marinette laughing and smiling at their afternoon activities, then it would flash to her being held against Two-Face. He could hear the rogue’s laugh deep in his bones, then it changed to the Joker’s unique cackle. Marinette changed from her to him to Jason at blinding speeds. He could hear Marinette’s voice firm and confident in contrast to the fear in her eyes when she told him there was no time and that she would lead Scarecrow away. He could hear her yelling and telling Alfred she and they weren’t safe. He heard his own cries and shouts mixed with Two-Face’s voice. He could hear what he imagined Jason sounded like when the Joker beat him to death. He could hear the accusations of others about his jealousy of Jason being adopted.

That unfortunately brought up memories of the talk he had had with Bruce once upon a time about Jason and adoption. It felt like he had had to fight not only tabloids but even Bruce about nonexistent hatred. Dick never hated Jason, but he had been so caught up in his anger with Bruce that he let it affect his and Jason’s relationship. He had just been so angry and it wasn’t an excuse but sometimes it seemed like he was even trying to justify his actions to himself. Though there was some jealousy and hurt there that he didn’t know what to do with, okay he did know what to do but the fact it would have to involve talking to Bruce and Jason was not something that sounded fun nor easy. He liked a good challenge but that idea sounded impossible. Like yes, he was Bruce’s son now but for so long he was just a ward, like Marinette was now, he called Bruce dad, they lived together, they fought crime together, they took care of each other, and yet it took years for Bruce to adopt him. But Jason? Dick knew Jason was Bruce’s son, his first son, his favorite son. Jason got the Bruce Dick had always wanted and it had hurt. Jason’s death had impacted Bruce more than his parents. That was a fact.

And…And Dick had no idea where this was all coming from. He knew he didn’t know Marinette well as her class’s tour guide but seeing her held against Two-Face, mere centimeters from danger had thrown him. She reminded him too much of himself and too much like Jason before his death. She wasn’t a Robin, she would never be a Robin, but she had been a hero like one. She saved her people as fiercely as a Robin protected Gotham and its people. She took the weight of her world on her shoulders, much like a Robin. She was a child turned soldier due to circumstance just like a Robin. Marinette was a Robin in soul with no Batman to guide her and maybe that was for the best but looking at how lost she looked when she spoke about the ‘akumatizations’ in Paris, Dick wished she had had her version of Batman. A mentor who could aid in the fight, who shared the knowledge and responsibility. Yes, there were other heroes, they were like her version of Teen Titans, but that’s just it she was just barely a teen, a child, when she took up the mantle of hero. And from the pictures Tim showed the family of the other heroes, it wasn’t hard to guess that the other ‘Holders’ were teens themselves. Seeing as Adrien was also a teen and a former hero.

Dick, in a weird, roundabout way, felt responsible for Marinette. As soon as she looked at him with hope, determination and fear in her eyes he was hit by a wave of protectiveness for her. She looked at him like Damian did when he first complimented and criticized his work as Robin, he and Marinette had also pulled off a plan as smooth and seamless as Dick and Damian had been when they were the Dynamic Duo. Or as Dick liked to call them, The More Dynamic Duo. He knew his family was kind of freaked out by how well Marinette and Damian seemed to get along, but not him, sure he teased a bit but he just had a feeling they would be friends. Damian had been trying to get himself out there and make friends and he did have some! He just called them acquaintances right now but Dick knew it wouldn’t be long till they were bumped up to friend status. Though Jon would always be Damian’s best friend even if they weren’t in the same school anymore. They still video or phone called every day and they played games with each other online. Which games? Dick could never remember but the point was, Damian had grown and was very capable of making friends, it just took him some time.

Speaking of time , Dick thought as his gaze lazily glanced at the clock on the wall. If he slept now, he knew he would not go to bed after patrol tonight. So with much reluctance he pushed himself up and off the couch. He figured he could see if Marinette wanted some company and maybe the two of them could get some tea and snacks from Alfred and tour more of the manor when they were done. It would help in the long term of Marinette’s stay so it was productive! When he got to her room he saw that the door was slightly open but it was still he knocked, if he could dodge a Pennyworth Lecture he would even knock his own bedroom door. As he did so though, the door opened more and with it came an overwhelming energy that left him feeling suppressed yet energized. He wasn’t around magic a lot anymore, but it always left him with the same feeling so he ditched being a gentleman and waiting for an answer and just barreled into the room to see what looked like a closing portal.

“Shit!” That would be a dollar in the Swear Jar, but that wasn’t important. What was important however was the fact Marinette was missing, a portal had seemingly opened in her room and closed, and…and there was a note on the bed?

‘Dear Any Wayne That Finds This,

Actually, are you all Waynes? I never asked, I should have asked. Anyways, please don’t freak out if you come to my room and I’m not here. Ladybug needed my help back in Paris and opened a portal to get me there. I shouldn’t be too long and hey! Maybe I’ll be back before anyone reads this but if I’m not then just don’t worry. Ladybug will return me once the akuma is dealt with.

-Marinette who is very sorry if someone does end up reading this and is pleading they don’t worry or get angry.’

“Double shit.” Dick said as he read over the letter.

That was another dollar for the Swear Jar.

_________________

Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

Oops.

____

Bruce Wayne @therealbrucewayne

RE: Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

Oops.

Richard John Grayson-Wayne. What did you do?

_____

JBIrd @sidesteppeddeath

RE: Bruce Wayne @therealbrucewayne

Richard John Grayson-Wayne. What did you do?

Ha! You got full government named Dickie! @toflyistofall

_____

Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

RE: JBIrd @sidesteppeddeath

Ha! You got full government named Dickie! @toflyistofall

Oh come on! I didn’t even add tags! How did he respond so fast?

#hahaimindanger

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happilyfeatherafter · 2 years

Text

Dean’s VOs in The Winchesters (season one!)

(LISTEN ALONG WITH AUDIO HERE)

Dean episode 1:

( Ten Years After's "I'd Love to Change the World" ) ♪ ♪

March 23, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning.

[END OF EPISODE]

What they didn't know is that the Akrida weren't just a threat to Earth, but to all of existence. Now, like I told you, there's gonna be some surprises. Hell, I'm still trying to find all the puzzle pieces myself. But I'll explain everything. And until then, I'll keep picking the music.

♪ ♪ Spread them wide ♪ ♪ Rich or poor ♪ ♪ Them and us ♪ ♪ Stop the war ♪

Dean episode 2:

( punchy, percussive music ) ♪ ♪ The ties that bind a family together can be complicated. Parents raise you, teach you what's right and wrong, and in some instances, how to kill monsters. But no matter who you are, there comes a time when you have to break from them and make your own way. And if you're not careful, things can get pretty ugly.

Dean episode 3:

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ ( screams ) ( sizzling ) ( growling ) There's no map to being a hunter. No playbook. You gotta follow your gut. But that can only take you so far. Truth is, you can't do it all on your own. You need other people to help guide the way... Your friends, your family. Otherwise you just end up lost.

Dean episode 4:

( eerie music ) ♪ ♪ Fighting the battle between good and evil isn't easy, especially when the first monster you have to face is the one inside yourself. ( soft dramatic music )

Dean episode 5:

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ Spending a lifetime of hunting monsters takes its toll. There comes the time when you gotta let out that pain inside you. If you don't, it'll eat you alive.

Dean episode 6:

(Lata) I am centered. I am at peace. I create my own path, and I walk in it fearlessly. (end Lata)

Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, "Who's really the monster here--them or me?"

[END OF EPISODE]

Hunting's not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it's not easy, But then again, the righteous things never are.

Dean episode 7:

( birds chirping ) Comes a time in every hunt when the fightin' starts. And the difference between winning and losing isn't whether you have the holy water, the wooden stake, or the silver bullet. It's whether you've got the grit to get the job done. (Mary on radio)

Dean episode 8:

(John Moran’s “Rebel”) ♪ ♪ Being a hunter, it means living a life of sacrifice-- not a lot of room for dreams. But you open your heart and get a little lucky, you'll find you gain more than you lose. ♪ ♪

Dean episode 9:

( mellow bluesy music ) ♪ ♪ This isn't how I saw things going when I pushed over that first domino. Thing is, I've had more than a few dances with free will and fate, but as my dad used to say, "Fate is what you make it."

Dean episode 10:

Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix, so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself, "How far will I go to get it?"

Dean episode 11:

Being a Hunter means always being on the move, No matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you work, at a certain point, we all run out of road. It's what we do with those crossroads that defines us.

Dean episode 12:

♪ ♪ ( carnival music resumes ) ♪ ♪ ( giggling manically ) ♪ ♪ ( shrill giggling ) ( whispering voices ) ( strange sounds ) 🤡🤡🤡

Hunting's a dishonest business. You gotta lie all the time about who you are and what you do. But the hardest lies aren't the ones you tell other people. They're the ones you tell yourself.

(Mary to John) Another day looking for this mystery man and still nothing. It's like this guy's a ghost. (End Mary to John).

Dean episode 13:

*RECORD SCRATCH* HE’S HERE!!!!! We’re going in universe baby.

(Opening scene, dramatic music ) ♪ ♪

Dean: John Winchester.

John: Sir, can I help you?

Dean: This is for you.

John: Where did you get this? Who are-- [...] One ticket for Lawrence, Kansas.

Ticket lady: Okay.

BOBBY, IT’S FREAKIN’ BOBBY!!!: We're not supposed to meddle with things, ya idjit!

Dean: You always said if I was gonna be stupid, I might as well be smart about it.

Bobby: Yeah, that does sound about like me. We're not even supposed to be here.

Dean: Come on, the letter was meant for him. I just, uh, you know, gave it a nudge.

Bobby: You keep an eye on things here. I'm gonna get the damn cavalry.

Dean: How you gonna do that?

Bobby: I got no freaking idea. One last hunt, huh?

Dean: One last hunt. ♪ ♪

[Insert finale including lots of chat about the ‘ruggedly handsome' mystery man here. For Akrida!Queen exposition science: You're here to talk about the man with no name...he was digging around in things that should have stayed buried. ... The Akrida. You see, our mysterious friend isn't from around here. There's only so much he could do. His hands were tied. Credit where it's due... he did manage to stay ahead of me for a while, but... I can assure you that he's not going to be a problem anymore. ... Well, there's this portal. You see--I'm sure you've heard of it. It's not quite up to code yet, but I managed to pry it open just enough to toss a certain someone and his car into it. No human can survive that gateway, so his body will be torn to shreds for centuries. Anyway, this, um... this old journal... it's all that's left of him.]

Back to the end of the show:

( electricity crackling ) ( engine revving ) ( engine revving ) ( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪

John: Mary! ... How did you guys survive?

Dean (gestures at Baby): She kept Mary safe... me too. Of course, there's not a lot that can tear me apart. I'm already dead. I was stuck in the world between worlds, so I stayed close to that portal, and as soon as I saw baby come through, I hopped in and grabbed the wheel.

Samuel: So who are you?

Dean: I'm a Hunter, just like you. But I'm not from this Earth.

Ada: And how did you get here?

Dean: When I died, I made it to heaven. And she was waiting for me. So I went for a drive, and then I took a little detour.

Latika: Through the multiverse. (Dean points ‘bingo’.)

Carlos: S-so what were you looking for?

Dean: That's a good question, Carlos. I was looking for my family. See, I come from a long line of Hunters. I guess I was hoping that somewhere out there was an Earth that had a version where my family had a shot at a happy ending. When I was driving, I caught wind of the Akrida. Turns out that they were one of Chuck's last creations.

Millie: Who's Chuck?

Dean: God. It's a long story, but, uh... basically, he's a real dick. He left the Akrida behind to wipe out all of existence in case he failed. Well... he failed. Eventually the Akrida were going to make their way to my world, and I got family there, so I couldn't let that happen.

John: T-the letter, why did you--

Dean: I took my little detour. The rules were simple. Don't mess with anything. Well... I gave it a little nudge. Thought it might need a little help. Looks like it worked out pretty well. So now that the Akrida are gone, you all can choose your own destiny. You can write your own story.

Jack: And you can get back to yours.

Dean: It's all right. It's all right. They're--they're with me. This is Bobby. That's Jack. They're family. Excuse me. You okay?

Bobby: I told you I'd figure it out. Didn't say I wouldn't get us in more trouble. Look at 'em. Man, this is all kinds of weird... seeing Samuel with a full head of hair.

Dean: Right? ( chuckles )

Jack (~~or is he?~~): Dean.

Dean: Yeah. No, I know. I know, Jack.

Jack: When I restored things, I wanted mankind to make their own fate. That meant no interference from on high, anywhere... no exceptions.

Dean: I couldn't let our world get destroyed. Sam's still down there, okay? He deserves a good, long life. Hell, they all do. ( indistinct chatter ) So, if you want to cast me out of heaven... so be it.

Bobby: If we're taking a vote, I'd say you give the guy another chance.

Jack: There's always another case with you Hunters... even in death. Well... if you're going to meddle in things, finish what you started. After this... it's time to get around to the... "there'll be peace when you are done"... part of the song.

Dean to John: Listen, um... b-before I go... I want to give you two something. My dad... he, uh... Kept a Hunter's journal, looked just like this. I lived my whole life by that damn thing. Well, this is my Hunter's journal. So if you're gonna stay in this game... This will help guide you through it.

John: Thank you.

Dean to Mary: I know you're thinking about quitting Hunting. Believe me, I understand. But you need to do me one favor. Keep an eye out for a yellow-eyed demon. And if you even catch a hint of that son of a bitch... I need you to use this.

Mary: Your family... did you ever find a version where they had a shot of a happy ending?

Dean: I think I did.

John: You never told us your name.

Dean: Hetfield... James Hetfield. (Hetfield is the lead vocalist, rhythm guitarist, co-founder, and a primary songwriter of heavy metal band Metallica.)

( Nick Drake's "One of These Things First" ) ♪ ♪ (Dean, Bobby and Jack vanish with baby).

Transcripts from: https://tvshowtranscripts.ourboard.org/viewforum.php?f=1550

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