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lozchi · 2 months

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KNOCKDOWN Chapter 1

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Chapter 1: 3,567 words

Surrounded by textbooks, notes, and surgical procedure diagrams, you find yourself completely focused on your medical studies as you sit at your messy desk. The sole source of light in the room is the gentle radiance of your desk lamp, creating elongated shadows on the pages – focused on the intricate drawings, trying to remember every part of the procedure. The outside world gradually disappears, and time goes by without you realizing it, the bright daytime gradually transitions into the dark colors of evening outside your window, enveloping you in a quiet state of intense concentration.

A voice calls out your name, faint and far away, barely noticeable in your awareness. You allowed it to go by without losing your concentration. Shortly after, the voice rings once more, with increased volume and urgency, disrupting your concentrated state.

The abrupt calling seems like a harsh disruption in the fragile strand of your focus, and you work to ignore the annoyance.You sigh in frustration and mumble quietly, "Ugh, what do you want, Shoko?"

Shoko’s voice rang out through your shared apartment once more, jolting you from your concentration as she yelled your name.

You looked up from the sea of medical papers strewn across your desk. “What’s up, Shoko?”

“'What's up?' You fucking tell me 'what's up'! you haven’t eaten yet. How long are you gonna be nose-deep in all those papers?” she asked, leaning against your doorframe with an exasperated look.

Six years into med school, you were suffering. The endless studying, the sleepless nights—it all weighed heavily on you. Shoko was in the same boat, but she always seemed to handle it better. Maybe because she indulged in stress-free activities or she was just naturally talented in managing herself, maybe both. Whatever it is, she hid her struggles well.

“Relax.” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just a few more pages and I’ll eat breakfast.”

Shoko’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s literally 6 in the evening. What do you mean ‘breakfast’!?”

She walked over, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “You need to take some time for yourself. I bet you don't even know what day it is.”

You rolled your eyes, though you knew she had a point. “I do get to relax sometimes.”

Shoko smirked. “When was the last time you had fun?”

“Yesterday!” you replied, a bit defensively.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Doing what?”

You hesitated, then admitted, “I killed five mosquitoes in a row.”

Shoko blinked at you, then burst out laughing. “Seriously? That’s your idea of fun?”

You sighed, unable to help but smile at her incredulity. “It was surprisingly satisfying.”

Shoko shook her head, her laughter subsiding into a warm, affectionate smile. “You’re something else, you know that? But seriously, take a break. The world won’t end if you step away from the books for a little. You really need to loosen up a bit more. How about we cook some food and watch a movie?"

You glanced at the mountain of papers in front of you, feeling the weight of all the work yet to be done. But as you looked at Shoko’s earnest expression, you realized she was right. You did need a break, even if it was just for a little while. You nodded, knowing she was right. “Okay, okay. I’ll rest. Just for a bit.”

Shoko grinned, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Good. Now come on, let’s get some real food in you before you wither away.”

As you followed her out of the room, you couldn’t help but think about how much you relied on her to keep you grounded. Despite how hard med school was, having a friend like Shoko made it all a bit more bearable.

“Okay..." you conceded. “But I'm picking the movie.”

“Deal." Shoko said with a grin. You leaned back in your chair, letting out a long breath. Maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Shoko took out several vegetables from the fridge, humming to herself as she began to prepare dinner. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a playful smirk on her face, deciding to tease you once again. “Y’know, I bet you have no idea what a Ligma is.” she laughed.

"Shut up, I know what that is."

Shoko smirked, but she remained silent. Just then, her phone rang, and she answered it quickly. “Ah, sorry, I actually have something to attend to. Don’t forget to eat!” she called out, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

“I’m eating instant ramen,” you muttered to yourself as you watched her leave. With a sigh, you decided to head to the nearby convenience store to pick up some good old cup ramen.

Once you arrived at the nearby 7/11, you crouched down in front of the aisle to grab a cup of ramen. Deciding to heat it up and eat it there instead of taking it home, you made your way to the hot water dispenser, preparing your quick meal.

With your hot cup of ramen in hand, you took a seat at one of the small tables. As you started eating, you noticed a tall, muscular guy trying to get your attention. He had black hair, a noticeable scar on his lip—his build was insane, making you momentarily consider hitting the gym.

“Excuse me, miss, can you watch over my son for a little? It’ll be quick.” he asked, his voice deep but polite.

“Oh, sure,” you said, looking at the cute little boy who's probably no older than 8 –standing next to him.

“Dad, I want candy." the boy demanded.

“Only a bit, Gumi. Otherwise momma would kill me.” the man chuckled before heading off, leaving you with the child.

The boy immediately took out a phone and began watching something. You couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t a typical kid’s show.

“Do you know the King of Curses?” he asked, looking up at you.

“I can’t think of a fucking username that isn’t corny!” Sukuna pouted, crossing his arms in frustration. You laughed, watching him struggle.

You’d been waiting for ten minutes for Sukuna to pick a name, but all he’d been doing was muttering swear words under his breath.

“Geez, chill. Maybe you should go for something like ‘The King of Curses’ since you won’t stop being a potty mouth.” you suggested, a teasing glint in your eye.

Initially, he was disgusted by your suggestion, thinking it was surely a joke. But, moments later, you saw him typing the username you picked out, almost subconsciously.

“You seriously went with it?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “It may be shit, but it’s pretty iconic if you ask me. Makes me sound feared or something.”

“You’re so cringe.”

“Shut up, at least we can start now.”

You laughed at the memory and turned to the kid. “It’s probably some weird CounterStrike username an edgy teen would come up with.” You said, a nostalgic smile on your face. Still, how in the world would that kid know about that specific username?

The boy's eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My dad trains him. He’s a really great mixed martial artist.”

He played a YouTube video for you, and you were amazed. The commentator excitedly pointed out the undefeated champion, known as "The King of Curses", as he dominated the ring with a fierce appearance on the screen.

The camera focused on the fighter's face, leaving no room for doubt. It was Sukuna. The same fierce protector from your childhood, now grown up and living up to the formidable name you had jokingly given him.

In the video, Sukuna was positioned in the middle of the octagon with tight muscles and concentrated eyes. When the bell sounded, his opponent rushed towards him with a barrage of punches. Sukuna smoothly avoided every attack, his actions appearing almost too fast to see. He responded with a quick punch to the ribs, then delivered a strong uppercut that made his opponent stagger backwards.

Sukuna's expression remained calm, almost bored, as he advanced. His opponent attempted to regain balance by launching a frantic kick, but Sukuna intercepted his leg in mid-air and turned it, causing the man to fall hard on the mat. The crowd burst into applause, but Sukuna was not finished. He dropped to the ground, pinning his opponent with a series of brutal elbows and punches.

The referee moved in to stop the fight, but Sukuna was already standing, raising his arms in victory. His chest heaved with controlled breaths, and he flashed a confident smirk at the camera, the tattoos on his body adding to his intimidating presence.

It cut to a post-match interview where Sukuna, still glistening with sweat, spoke with a quiet intensity. "My advice to achieve such greatness? Uhh, git gud.'"

Classic Sukuna.

Your heart pounded as the realization set in. Sukuna, the boy who used to defend you on the playground, had become a renowned MMA fighter, known worldwide by the very name you had suggested in jest. The world had changed so much since you last saw him, and yet here he was, still fighting.

The boy continued watching the video, oblivious to your internal turmoil. You couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and disbelief. Sukuna had come so far, and you wondered if he ever thought about the past, about you.

"'Ryo..."

The boy glanced at you and thought, "Damn, this woman's got a crush on him already, like every girl on TikTok."

The man returned, thanking you for watching his son. You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation. As you left the 7/11 with your now cold ramen, your mind buzzed with possibilities. Would he still remember you? Would you be able to reconnect again?

The kid tugged his dad's arm. “Dad.”

“Yes, Megumi?” the man responded.

“Can't believe that lady didn’t know who you were, neither did she know Ryomen Sukuna!”

The man could tell; you didn’t seem astounded to see him at all.

“She looks oddly familiar though.” the man muttered to himself. "Gumi, let's visit him."

Returning hastily to your apartment, the image of Sukuna's video was still fresh in your mind, the flickering fluorescent lights of the 7/11 lingering behind you. Your heart beat fast with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you struggled with your keys to unlock the door, eventually managing to push it open and enter the dimly lit living room of your cozy apartment.

The view you saw was anything but reassuring. Shoko was in the kitchen, glaring at the untouched vegetables sitting forlornly on the counter

"Where were you?" she asked, concerned.

You gave a nervous chuckle, still processing the shock of the day. “I went to 7/11.”

Shoko sighed and shook her head, her expression softening just a little. “You need real food, not just instant ramen. Ugh, whatever.” She threw her hands up in resignation and turned toward her bedroom. “I’m heading to bed early. You should do the same.”

"You eaten yet though, Shoko?"

She sighs and nods, "Of course I did."

As she started to walk away, you hesitated for a moment before calling out, “Hey, Shoko?”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to look at you with a weary but curious expression. “What?”

“Do you know how I could catch up with an old friend I haven’t seen for a long time?” you asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “How long are we talking about?”

“About six years.” you said, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of your ramen cup.

Shoko considered this for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “What are they like?”

You took a deep breath, your mind drifting back to memories of Sukuna.

“Well, he was strong—”

You remember him at the young age of 10, standing in the center of the playground, his muscles tensed as he faced a group of older kids. “You think you’re tough enough to handle me?” he taunted, his voice brimming with cocky confidence. “Bring it on!”

You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as Sukuna stepped into the fray, his bravado as palpable as his physical strength.

“He was brave—”

You remember Sukuna during your preteen years standing in front of you, his eyes fierce as he glared down at the jerks who had been tormenting you. “You stay behind me." he said firmly, his voice carrying a promise of protection. “I’ll handle this.”

You clung to his shirt as he faced the bullies, the sight of him standing tall against the odds a comforting shield.

“And reckless—”

You remember him as a middle schooler throwing himself into a scuffle with a group of older kids, not caring about the bruises or scrapes he might get. “What are you doing?!” you shouted, desperate to stop him from getting hurt. “You’ll get hurt!”

Sukuna’s eyes glinted with reckless excitement as he punched the air, ignoring your pleas.

“But he was also gentle sometimes.” you continued, a nostalgic smile forming on your lips.

After a particularly rough fight, Sukuna sat beside you, his face uncharacteristically soft as he checked the scratches on your arms. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Don’t let those fuckers get to you.”

"Now, it's pretty tough. I just found out today that he's gotten famous. Do you know Ryomen Su-"

“RYOMEN SUKUNA?!?” Shoko interrupted suddenly, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You nodded, trying to keep your tone steady. “Yeah, Ryomen Sukuna.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Nah, nah, there is NO way you could possibly be connected to THAT man.”

She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to clear away the absurdity of the idea. “You’re telling me you knew Sukuna, the MMA fighter? The King of Curses?”

You nodded again, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling inside you. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Shoko’s eyes darted between you and the kitchen, her skepticism palpable. “How in the world did you end up knowing someone like him?!? And why didn’t you mention it before?”

“It’s a long story. But I saw him today in a video, and it brought back a lot of memories.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “GIRL, YOU DON’T EVEN USE INSTAGRAM! OR TWITTER. OR FACEBOOK OR WHATEVER. HOW IN THE HECK—” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Make one, quick! I’m going to bed now.”

You looked at her, a bit taken aback by her sudden urgency. “Wait, what? You think I should—”

“Yes!” Shoko said, her tone brooking no argument. “If you want to reach him, you need to have social media. He’s famous! You have to at least try to find a way to contact him through those channels. I’m heading to bed. Figure it out and come to bed soon!”

Dismissing you with a wave of her hand, she walked towards her bedroom, leaving you standing by yourself.

You walked to the bathroom, feeling the cool tiles underfoot in contrast to the warmth in your mind. You opened the tap and allowed the water to flow, filling the small, echoing room with the sound of splashing and dripping. You gazed at your own reflection in the mirror, revealing only weariness. Seeing your eyes and disheveled hair was a clear indication of the significance this held for you.

Entering the bathtub, you switched on the hot water and adjusted the temperature until it was perfect. Steam started rising, surrounding you in a comforting mist while you relaxed in the cozy hug of the bath. You rested against the ceramic surface, allowing the water to surround you while shutting your eyes and attempting to relax your thoughts.

"What kind of username would stick out to Sukuna?

It was more challenging than you had anticipated. The inside jokes, the shared moments, and the personal history you had with Sukuna were so specific that they felt like private treasures. What could possibly represent those moments in a way that would be instantly recognizable to him?

You thought back to the times you spent together—times filled with laughter, arguments, and deep conversations. There were so many small, meaningful memories wrapped up in personal jokes and secret codes that no one else would understand.

You recalled the times you both laughed about ridiculous ideas, the games you played, and the silly names you created. You tried to think of a name that would be both nostalgic and significant, something that would make Sukuna think of you and those days.

"How about something from high school?" you mused, but nothing seemed to fit. Everything you came up with felt either too cheesy or too vague. You wanted something that would spark recognition and memories, but the perfect idea remained just out of reach.

You let yourself relax in the tub for a few minutes, hoping that the warmth of the water and the calm of the moment would help you come up with a brilliant idea. The steam swirled around you, and you let your thoughts drift, trying to tap into the memories of those carefree days.

As the water continued to gently lap against you, you thought about how those inside jokes had shaped your relationship, but how they might not resonate in the same way now. ------

Sweat trickled down Sukuna’s forehead as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving focus. "You think you can take me down, brat?” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

“You’re going down, old man!”

The room had a faint light, coming from the flickering TV screen and the gentle glow of the gaming console. Tension filled the air, the type that mounts before a pivotal fight. The air was filled with the sound of quick button presses and deep focus, occasionally interrupted by grunts of exertion.

Sukuna sat amidst the storm of focus and intensity, his brows furrowed in concentration while tightly gripping the controller. Facing him was his nephew Yuuji, a young and bubbly kid, matching his focus as his hands swiftly pressed the buttons.

The screen displayed the high-octane action of Tekken, the characters on the screen exchanging powerful blows and executing complex combos. Sukuna’s character, a hulking fighter, faced off against Yuuji’s agile and swift opponent. The battle was fierce, strikes and counters met with a flurry of button presses and strategic maneuvers.

But Yuuji was ready. With a triumphant shout, he dodged the attack and delivered a final, decisive blow. Sukuna’s character crumpled to the ground, defeated.

"K.O!"

For a moment, the room was silent. Sukuna stared at the screen in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. Then, with a dramatic wail, he exclaimed, “Nooo, Yuuji! You can’t do this to me, you brat!”

Yuuji burst into laughter, his victory dance full of exaggerated moves. “I told you I’d win, Uncle Kuna!”

Sukuna, unable to keep up the act, broke into a grin. “You little rascal,” he said, reaching over and playfully grabbing Yuuji. He pulled his nephew close and started tickling him mercilessly. “Take that! And that!”

Yuuji squirmed and laughed, trying to escape Sukuna’s grasp. “Stop, Uncle! STOP! I can’t- CAn'T! CAN'T BREAtHE!

Sukuna finally relented, letting Yuuji go and ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, alright, you win this time. But don’t think I’m going easy on you next time.”

Yuuji beamed, still catching his breath. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose again!”

Sukuna laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “Maybe. But you’d better keep practicing, kiddo. I won’t be this easy to beat forever.”

The room’s playful atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. Sukuna’s assistant, a composed and efficient individual, stepped in, their voice calm yet insistent.

“Sir Sukuna,” the assistant called, their tone carrying an air of urgency. The sudden formality of the address cut through the laughter of the pink-haired duo, drawing both sets of eyes toward the door. “Toji Fushiguro and Megumi Fushiguro are here.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted from playful to one of seriousness. He scoffed, pushing himself up from his seat. “Took them long enough.” he muttered under his breath. Turning to Yuuji, he ruffled the boy’s hair one last time. “You play with Megumi, ‘kay? Me and Toji are just gonna chat.”

Yuuji nodded eagerly, already looking forward to spending time with his friend. As Sukuna’s assistant led Yuuji toward the play area, Toji and his son, Megumi, were ushered in. Toji, a formidable man with a rugged demeanor, walked in with his usual air of confidence. His son, Megumi, followed closely, his eyes sharp and observant despite his young age.

Sukuna stood in the center of the room, his presence commanding and authoritative. He greeted them with a nod, his assistant closing the door behind them. "Took you some time to get here." "Had to drop something off to my wife." “Come in,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that left no room for casual conversation.

Toji’s expression was serious as he stepped forward, his eyes meeting Sukuna’s with a sense of purpose. “Three things, Sukuna. We need to talk.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Alright.” he said, motioning for Toji to continue. “What’s on your mind?”

Taglist: (tell me if i forgot to add you)

@obitobrigade @simpmetra @catobsessedlady @mangiswig @thulhu @aiicpansion @gojoscumslut @attackonnat @wavyhat2540

Ask under this post or any of the chapters I'll release if you want to be added. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk fanfic #what other tags do i put #ryomen x reader #ryomen x you #jjk fic

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moraxsthrone · 1 year

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✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ TITLE — something precious in return

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ PAIRING — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WC — 5.7k

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ WARNINGS/NOTES — nsfw. mdni. virgin!diluc. virgin!reader. mutual pining. childhood friends to lovers. light angst to comfort to smut to fluff. outdoor sex at night. flashbacks in italics. SLOW BURN, just how diluc likes it. from his very first time, he's always been such a naturally passionate lover.

here on your stargazing hill, the night breeze is colder than you had anticipated when you opted to bring the thin blanket upon which you presently sit. you’d worn long sleeves, but hadn’t accounted for how much cooler the air would feel against your face once the tears began to flow.

normally you’d be at angel’s share right about now, sitting at the bar and shooting the shit with your best friend while he works. but under the current circumstances, diluc’s presence would only serve to drive the knife deeper: a cruel reminder of the love you could have had if only he returned your affection. then perhaps you wouldn’t be sitting here all alone, holding the broken shards of your heart in your hands because you never even would’ve looked twice at the other guy. instead, now it’s doubly broken - first by the guy who just broke up with you, then by the knowledge that the one you really want - your first choice - would always be just out of reach. you almost resent diluc because he has no idea that every time he smiles at you, your heart skips a beat even as it bleeds for him.

you shiver and pull your knees in close to your chest, arms hugging your legs as you look out at the stars.

“you’ll catch your death sitting out here like this.”

you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin before putting your hand over your heart and breathing a sigh of relief.

“you scared the shit out of me, luc!” you chide as he snickers and drapes his coat over your shoulders. you playfully slap his arm as he sits down beside you. “it’s not funny! don’t sneak up on me like that!”

you quickly wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, turning his smile upside down as his eyebrows knit. you were hoping he wouldn’t notice you’d been crying, but it’s diluc. he notices things. especially when it comes to you.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

his body heat feels nice, his warmth enveloping you as you pull his coat tighter around yourself. “shouldn’t you be at the tavern?” you scoff, wishing he would just go away but scooting over to give him more room in spite of yourself. this would all be so much easier if he didn’t care about you so much.

“not when my friend doesn’t show up there on a friday night.” a new hairline crack snakes through your heart at the word ‘friend’. “i haven’t seen hair nor hide of you all week. now, talk to me. why are you crying? do i need to go kick someone’s ass?”

you fight the smile that threatens to betray you, and he notices…of course.

“i feel passed over, luc,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, “like i’ll only ever be second best. i want to be someone’s first choice, every time. forever, not just for a few months.”

your words tug at his heart. if you only knew. “so would it be safe to assume things didn’t work out between you and what’s-his-name?”

you chuckle. even though you dated “what’s-his-name” for almost a year, diluc has always “forgotten” his name no matter how many times you’ve reminded him. clearly he's never thought much of the guy. and for good reason, it turns out.

“seeing as how he dumped me for another girl, your assumption would be safe indeed,” you answer, choking on your last word as fresh tears begin to well up.

“hey now,” diluc says softly, pulling you in, “come here.”

leaning into him, you lay your head against his chest where his voice sounds so much closer, deeper. balling his shirt in your fist, you tuck your head under his chin just like you’ve done since you were both little, and you cry.

outside of family, diluc has always been your most reliable source of comfort. generally speaking, he’s never really been the most affectionate person. but when it comes to you he’s made a lot of exceptions. since his father died last year, not many people get to see diluc’s smile or hear his laugh, but you do. the two of you have pretty much been inseparable since you were 7 and he was 8.

you'd gotten stuck in a tree after climbing it, too scared to climb back down. you sat there and cried for about half an hour when another little girl with long, bright red hair and pretty, big carmine eyes came along and helped you down. you had a couple of scrapes on your knees and elbows and were too shaken up to walk home. so your new friend carried you on her back.

you’ll never forget the way her thick hair tickled your face and made you giggle every time there was a breeze. it was only when you got back home and introduced your new friend to your mom as “she” that diluc’s face turned a shade that rivaled the color of his hair and he said, a little indignantly you might add, “he! i’m a boy!”

to this day you still tease him about what a pretty girl he could pass for, albeit one with a very deep voice. he does not find it funny.

however, at the present moment, neither of you are laughing. with his strong arms wrapped around you, you hear his heartbeat quicken.

“i happen to have it on good authority that you are someone’s first choice.”

“you do? i am?” you sniff and look up at him, your watery eyes following the strong line of his jaw as he trains his gaze on the starry canopy above.

his affirmative hum vibrates against your ear, which is still pressed to his chest. why is his heart beating so fast?

with your curiosity piqued, you lift your head. “who?”

“not telling.”

“how mature.”

a breathy laugh escapes his scrunched-up nose as he looks down at you again. “shut up.”

“c’mon, luc, at least give me a hint! is it someone i know?”

“yes.”

“really?” diluc’s hold on you loosens when you straighten up again. “is it someone i know from the tavern or the winery?”

“both.”

that doesn’t narrow it down much. “is it a guy or a girl?” you press.

“definitely a guy,” he says pointedly.

“what color is his hair?”

“i’ll only answer yes or no questions…”

“why can’t you just tell me?”

“because i’m not so sure he wants you to know.”

you scoff. “that’s stupid. why wouldn’t he want me to know?”

“maybe he’s afraid you won’t want to be friends with him anym-” shit, he thinks, too far. the brief flash of panic in his eyes isn’t lost on you. “in any case,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re nursing a broken heart so it’s too soon to-”

“diluc,” you interrupt him. “is it you?”

he scoffs, eyebrows knitting. “pfssh…no!” he instantly turns away from you lest you see the blush that he can feel rushing to his face.

“aww, luc! you’re blushing!” you tease, leaning around him to try and see his face. you believed him when he said it’s not him (thinking otherwise would’ve been wishful indeed), but tormenting him a little because of how cute it is that he gets so easily flustered. giggling, you bring a hand to his jaw in an effort to turn his face towards you again. “you’re totally blushing, i can see how red your face-“

before you can finish your taunt, your senses are suddenly filled with diluc ragnvindr. his bottom lip is pressed between yours as he kisses you, the scent of wine-stained oak barrels filling your nostrils. you’re so stunned that you forget to kiss him back and he pulls away, unable to make eye contact.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, moving to get up and leave to avoid making things any worse, but you grab his hand. he stops, but doesn’t turn around. he’s still too embarrassed to face you.

“how long?” your voice is soft, almost a whisper, afraid if you speak too loudly you’ll wake up to find this has all been a dream.

“since that night in the water…”

archons, that long? you were barely teenagers that summer.

you’d snuck out of your respective homes to go night swimming. you met at the beach south of dawn winery, near the waterfall, before removing all but your swimwear that you’d each worn under your clothes.

you both stood on one of the boulders and agreed to jump in on the count of three, but when the moment of truth came you chickened out, letting diluc jump in by himself. when he surfaced you were still standing on the rock, looking down and laughing at him. he swam to the shore and by the time you realized what he was doing, it was too late. he was coming right for you but the only escape was jumping into the water.

you put your hands out, still giggling. “n-no! diluc, no don’t do it!”

a dark grin spread across his face as he grabbed your bare waist. you screamed as he tossed you into the water before jumping in behind you.

you surfaced and as soon as you could touch the bottom you pushed your wet hair out of your face and turned towards the laughing boy. you called him a few choice names while splashing water towards his face, but he just ended up tackling you. you’re still not sure how it happened, but you found yourself in waist-deep water, still laughing with diluc’s hands perched on your hips to steady you when he suddenly leaned down and kissed you.

the feeling of lips - his lips - pressed against your own made you feel like you were floating even as your toes curled into the sediment beneath them. you were both inexperienced, neither of you having kissed anyone before. it only lasted a few seconds, but to the two of you it felt like forever, each rapid beat of your hearts lasting lifetimes. but when you placed your palm flat against his bare chest, diluc pulled away and trudged out of the water.

you watched him, confused and still in shock by what just happened. with his back turned to you, he started getting dressed.

you were still anchored in the water, suddenly feeling cold. “luc?”

he balled his hair into his fists to wring the excess water out before looking back at you, but only with a glance. “i uh- i have to go.”

“diluc, what-”

“just…get dressed and let’s go.” he sounded angry. “i’m not leaving you out here alone. it's too dangerous.”

you frowned, hugging yourself as you walked out of the water. your head was swimming, reeling as you slowly made your way towards your own pile of clothes.

he walked you home that night and neither of you have spoken a word of it since.

until now.

“i thought you hated it,” you say, collecting the excess length of his coat sleeves in your fidgeting hands.

“i didn’t hate it!” he corrects you a little too quickly, then lowers his voice. “i…i liked it.”

“then why the hell did you act so weird about it and want to leave?”

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything.

“diluc, why?” you plead, new tears - different tears - pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“i…” he knows the question has been burning at the back of your mind for years. an explanation is long overdue. he lowers his gaze from the stars overhead and mumbles something that you can’t quite understand.

“i didn’t hear you.”

“i got hard,” he repeats.

“you-” did you just hear him correctly? “you got hard?”

he has mixed feelings about hearing you say those words. it’s embarrassing, but also…it sounds sexy when you say it.

“so you’ve been breaking my heart for the past 5 years because you popped a boner?”

his eyes shift to yours before quickly looking away again. “i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” you ask incredulously. “diluc, do you have any idea how confused i was? that was my first kiss and i’ve always wanted to cherish it, but you robbed me of that! you took something so precious to me and turned it into something shameful! all because your dick got hard?”

“i didn’t want you to see it, or worse, feel it. we- our bodies were so close. i didn’t want you to think i was a creep.” his apologetic eyes meet yours. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you hazard a glance at his lap, but his leg is bent such that it makes it impossible to tell. “are you hard now?” your voice is quieter, conveying genuine curiosity.

his eyes snap to yours. “no!” do you really think a peck on the lips is enough to arouse him? “it was just a quick kiss…tch!”

“don’t act so offended! that’s all it took back then!”

“i was 14 for fuck’s sake!”

thing is though, you want to make him hard again. the thought that you’d had that effect on him back then - with just a simple kiss - sends a pang of desire coursing through your core. you get to your knees and inch closer to his side, diluc’s crimson eyes following your every move. putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you lean in and place the softest kiss on his parted lips.

he doesn’t even feel like he deserves to kiss you again. aren’t you mad at him? why would you reward him with such a sweet gift after what he’d put you through?

you pull back just enough to look at him and whisper, “kiss me, diluc. like you mean it this time.”

he tilts his head, slotting his lips with yours once again as you both close your eyes. your mouths begin to move and diluc’s hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, his warm thumb ghosting over your ear.

your mouths open, breathing each other’s air before slowly sealing your lips together again. you drag your thumbs down the sides of his neck as he cranes it to get closer, kissing you a bit harder. as if reading each other’s desires, the tips of your tongues brush together the next time your lips part and pretty soon they’re swirling in a slow, sensual dance.

diluc’s hands drift down to your waist, pulling you closer to straddle his lap. you settle down, the tiniest of whines leaving your mouth when you feel his semi-hard bulge press into the back of your thigh. your kisses grow increasingly passionate by the second as though trying to make up for lost time.

changing the tilt of his head to deepen the kiss, diluc wraps you into his arms completely. this time, there is no sign of him backing out. his confidence is sexy, his tongue intoxicating. your hands are in his hair where they’ve wanted to be for so long. he grips your back and pulls you flush against him. you roll your hips against him, making him moan in your mouth as you feel his building erection jump against the back of your thigh.

diluc huffs and you find yourself on your back, legs still straddling his hips. your tongues push over and around each other, quickened breaths mixing together when he reaches down momentarily and adjusts himself. in this position his cock is now pressing firmly against your moistening center, making you keenly aware of how close your bodies are, how ready you are for one another.

the sweet, breathy mewl diluc pulls from you when he grinds his clothed erection against your clit goes straight to his dick, making it throb for you in his pants. he ruts again, slowly, willing you to feel him, no longer shy and too far gone to pretend he isn’t aroused. he wants you to know he’s hard for you; needs you to know how badly he’s wanted you and for how long. you have no idea how many times he has whispered your name while lying in his own bed, eyes closed with his hands in his boxers wishing they were yours. more than that, though, he needs you to know how much he cares for you.

diluc ragnvindr has never been a man of many words. but perhaps now, here on this grassy knoll, with your hands in his hair, his lip between your teeth, your hearts pressed together and pounding for one another - diluc can finally show you all the things he’s wanted to say.

one of his hands wanders the length of your waist, gripping your side as he massages his way down to your hip. he squeezes you there, making you sigh and roll your hips up to meet his when his thumb presses into the crease of your leg. you’re both panting into your open-mouthed kiss, lips red and swollen, impatiently trying to get closer and closer as though you can will your clothing out of the way.

but you’re too needy to wait until the fabric barriers can be worn down with time, so you take matters into your own shaky hands and start unbuttoning the collar of diluc’s shirt. with a grunt, he lifts himself up to help things along, quickly removing his shirt before reaching down to help you out of yours. you’re already working your bra off as your eyes traverse the expanse of his naked chest and sculpted abs.

his skin is pale and smooth save for the dips between his muscles and the thin line of red hair beneath his navel. diluc’s fiery mane is draped over his broad shoulders, tickling your chest when he presses his naked torso to yours and recaptures your lips with his. he’s burning up, his blushing skin so very hot to the touch that you almost flinch. his scorching hand massages its way to your breast, squeezing and kneading it gently while he dips down to take the other into the wet heat of his mouth. you gasp, eyes rolling back as you arch your back off the relatively cool lining of his coat, pushing your chest into his touch. your hands are exploring his back, dragging the impressions of your fingertips across his pale skin, digging and pulling at him as if he could get any closer.

blazing a trail of wet kisses along your neck, diluc’s lips find yours once again only to release a quiet moan inside your mouth when your fingers slide inside the front of his pants. he lifts his hips slightly, encouraging your exploration of his body, shivering as your digits thread through his coarse patch of hair before spreading around the wide base of his hard cock. you wrap your fingers around him, sighing at the feeling of his heavy girth in your hand; his hot, velvety skin sliding over the rock hard length of his shaft as you slowly stroke him.

diluc hums, eyes screwing shut as he presses his forehead to yours, mind buzzing at the sensation of your soft hand pumping him. you work your way closer to his tip, pussy clenching at his deep groan when the edge of his glans catches on the opening of your grip. inside his underwear, you can feel the cool slick of his precum against your knuckles as more begins to coat the inside of your fist. diluc swears under his breath, moving his hips more quickly, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of your tight grip around his slippery cockhead.

“mm-y/n,” he whispers, burying his face against your neck. “hhhh shit…”

a few hurried thrusts later, you feel the rhythmic twitching of his cock and with a low, extended groan, diluc covers your hand with his warm release. you slow your pace but keep your fist tight, milking the last of his orgasm from his cock as his hot breaths come hard and fast against your neck.

when he’s fully spent, he jolts out of your grip and huffs out a small laugh, indicating his sensitivity. you slowly pull your hand from his pants, leaving a trail of his cum along his stomach but neither of you care.

“that was really hot,” you muse with a small smile.

nuzzling your ear, he mumbles, “can i touch you?”

your eyes slide closed, sighing. “i really want you to, yes.”

diluc leaves a couple of kisses on the corner of your mouth before raising up onto his knees. his chest rises and falls, still catching his breath as he unfastens your pants. you lift your hips to aid him when he curls his fingers around your waistband and works your bottoms down the curve of your ass and hips before ridding you of them entirely.

you watch as he unbuckles his belt and removes the rest of his own clothing, biting your lip when his half-hard cock bounces out of his cum-stained underwear. he looks down at you, lips parted as his lust-blown vermillion eyes take in every inch of your naked form. feeling vulnerable and self-conscious, you close your legs and fold your arms over your breasts.

“s-stop staring, diluc,” you mutter, looking away with a bashful smile. “you’re embarrassing me.”

you feel his hands on your closed thighs, not pulling them apart but caressing them in an effort to make you feel less uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry, it’s just-” he begins to stumble on his words but presses on, “...the way you’re glowing in the moonlight. you look like a goddess.” he leans down, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he whispers, “please don’t hide yourself; you’re lovely.”

there’s no fighting the smile that spreads across your face at his words. you willingly open your legs and arms, pulling him close for a kiss. propping himself on his forearm, his other hand touches you, roaming your naked body, claiming every peak and valley, conquering you with his hands inch by scorching inch.

he feels you tremble beneath him as the backs of his fingers rake along your inner thigh. you gasp, interrupting your lazy kissing when the pad of diluc’s thumb grazes your clit. he slides his digit down between your folds before returning to your tiny, engorged tip. he repeats the process a few more times, spreading your slick along your pink slit while driving you out of your mind.

he’s dragging the tip of his thumb in little circles over your clit now, swallowing your whines, his full erection returning as you buck your hips for him. with his thumb still on your clit, he presses the tip of his middle finger against your opening, slowly pushing it in a little before withdrawing, back and forth until he’s knuckle deep inside your slippery heat. you’re gripping his biceps, hanging on for dear life while he drinks your moans and sighs, tasting the sounds of your pleasure on his tongue like a fine wine.

“hhhhnn~ luc…”

he moves to your ear as he works a second finger inside you, a pleased hum escaping him when he hears his name, laced with lust and desire, pour from your lips. there’s a deep ache building inside your lower belly that you’ve never felt before. diluc presses deeper inside you, reveling in the sensation of your slick walls clenching around his fingers. it feels like you’re chasing something but you need more. his fingers are providing a delicious stretch, but it’s just not quite enough.

“diluc, please…” you whisper breathlessly, “...put it in.” he raises his head from your collarbone and meets your lust-filled gaze. “need you, luc. want you inside me~”

“you mean…” if you weren’t so drunk on desire, you’d laugh at the almost comical look on his face when he raises his eyebrows. “...my cock?”

you cup his cheeks in your palms and hum affirmatively with a breathy ‘yes’. “i want you…want you to be my first.”

“wait, you’re still…?”

you nod. “i’ve always wanted you to be my first everything.”

his heart blooms, swelling against his ribcage at your confession. with a furrowed brow, he kisses you. “i’ve always wanted the same; you’ll be my first too.” he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and squares his hips with yours, nestling his readied cock between your slick folds. “i’m sorry it took me so long to-”

you bring your fingers to his lips, shushing him. “better late than never,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you press your lips to his again. your breath stutters when the head of his cock nudges your clit. “claim me, diluc.”

he deepens the kiss with a sigh, his cock leaking to mix with your need, getting slicker with every languid roll of his hips. he reaches between your bodies, his eyes darting to yours, watching for the slightest hint of discomfort or change of mind as he pushes his pink, drooling tip to your opening and begins to push inside you.

you both moan, fingertips curling into one another’s flesh as your tight ring stretches around his thick, virgin cockhead before finally surrendering with a soft pop.

in all his fantasies of this moment, nothing could’ve prepared diluc for the intoxicating texture and heat of your cunt as it spreads around him. “so…” he sucks air between his teeth at your relentless clenching, “...tight.”

meanwhile, you’ve never felt such overwhelming pressure and fullness as his cock invades your virgin pussy. you hold your breath as the young, inexperienced male pushes deeper inside you, digging your nails into the skin of his back. the stretch is too much, too fast.

he halts all movement, crimson eyes widening when he hears the muffled whimper in your throat. “shit. are you okay? does it hurt?”

you wince, trying to soldier through the pain. you’ve heard that if it hurts you have to take deep breaths and try to relax; tensing only makes it worse. “a- a little.”

“maybe we should stop,” he says as he begins to pull out.

“no!” you blurt, hooking your ankles behind diluc’s thighs to impede his withdrawal. “no,” you repeat, more quietly this time, collecting yourself. “just…be still for a moment and i think i’ll be okay.”

“you want me to keep it in?” he’s watching you like a hawk for your reactions. the last thing in the world he wants to do is hurt you.

your eyes slide closed and nod, the pain already starting to give way to a dull, tolerable pressure. diluc waits, holding himself still as he kisses your face, his soft lips grazing your eyelids while he threads his fingers through your hair. your death grip on the flesh of his back subsides as you inwardly remind yourself to breathe. even when you move your hips a little, diluc keeps still, putting your comfort and pleasure ahead of his own feral urges, content to let you guide his pace.

little by little, you work yourself further down his thick length until your clit rubs against the red thatch of hair around his base. the added stimulation sends a surge of pleasure through your core, that new ache returning, making you ready and craving just a little more.

you kiss behind diluc’s jaw, just beneath his ear before murmuring to him, “make love to me, diluc.”

and so, on a cool blanket under the stars and moon, not too far from the vineyard with only the crystalflies to bear witness, you and diluc take something from each other while giving something far more precious in return.

diluc’s hips undulate, rocking back and forth, his butt muscles flexing with each forward thrust. the crimson hair at the base of his dick is shiny with your slick as it rubs your swollen clit. your toes curl, heels digging into his thighs like a jockey spurring on her steed to go faster, faster.

“more- nnhhm- more…”

he’s on his forearms, cradling your back, his hands framing your ears when he opens his eyes to look at you from above. “you sure?”

“please, yes, i need it…” your back arches, eyes closing when you feel your core squeeze him and you’re chasing that unknown something again. “need you to fuck me harder, luc.”

your lover's eyes widen momentarily at your direct, wanton words. he finds it incredibly sexy and briefly wonders how else your mouth might surprise him. he’s pumping his cock into you a little faster now, his hand cradling the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb ghosting along your jawline.

“i need you to tell me if i go too far…”

you nod, and he raises up onto his hands, caging you beneath him to give himself more leverage as he begins to thrust into you faster still. your moans and whimpers travel straight down his spine, urging him to go harder until you can hear the wet claps of skin, sloppy and lewd.

“gods, y/n…” diluc grunts, feeling that familiar coil winding dangerously tight at the base of his spine, searing and ready to snap. “i think i’m going to…” he swears through his moan as his balls tighten.

as new lovers tend to do, he slips out of you unintentionally, his hot seed spurting in long threads over your belly. he’s still rocking his hips, dragging his jerking cock between your folds, smearing his cum along your pussy lips as more of it spills out. he’s sighing, trying so hard to be quiet, but as the last of his sperm dribbles out of his cockhead it catches and slides back inside you. he lets out an open-mouthed groan as your tight heat sucks his sensitive, cum-coated tip back in.

but he doesn’t stop.

his eyes are screwed shut, gritting his teeth to fight the overstim because your warm cunt just feels so damn good, his dick doesn’t soften in the slightest.

you’re keening for him, making his toes curl with how sweet you sound for him, his name passing your lips in broken whimpers. diluc’s inhibitions are almost entirely gone at this point. he’s fucking into you with abandon, sloppy because it’s his first time. threads of his cum connect your bellies, joining you, hot and sticky. traces of it have mixed with your slick, making his thick cock nice and slippery as it drags and pulls at your tightening walls.

that something has been building low, so low in your belly. an ache so dull and so deep, a pressure you’ve never felt before. your squelching walls have been closing in with every delectable tug of diluc’s fat cock.

“ohh…hhnn~diluc?” you keen.

“yeah?” he pants, still thrusting, addicted to the soft, velvety slick of your pussy sucking him in harder.

“h-harder…just a little harder…”

he wants to get on his knees, push your thighs back, and fuck you properly, but this time is special and he would rather stay close to you, even through his haze of wanton lust and unbridled passion. so instead, he bends his knees out beside you, panting with the occasional grunt against the pulsing artery in your neck as he presses hard against your cervix with every pump of his cock.

“gods, y/n,” he whispers, “you feel so…so good.”

he shifts, angling the curve of his cock just right against a spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed until now. the last thing you remember is watching the rich boy’s lean abs flexing, sweat dripping down his sides as he humps his slick shaft in and out, in and out, in and out. he drives you right up to a terrible height until you feel...

weightless.

you’re hanging in the air just before the freefall when a sharp heat courses out from your center to the very ends of your nerves at lightspeed. you barely hear yourself cry out for him as your walls convulse and spasm around his length. he watches, wide-eyed as he fucks you through your first orgasm, slow and deep with full, passionate thrusts. the sound of his name falling desperately from your lips, the sounds of all your shared fluids - sweat, slick, cum, tears - they go right to his head as his hips keep right on snapping into yours.

“gonna~ mmnnhh~ make me cum again~” a strangled groan escapes diluc’s open lips.

shame you’ll never get to see just how tightly his little asshole winks while his cock jerks his cum inside your pussy for the very first time, painting your walls creamy white. his thick seed leaks from your tight opening as you continue to glide on his cock from below. you kiss him, his quick breaths catching in his throat as he rides out his orgasm.

your lips graze as you both come down from your respective highs together, noses nudging between lazy kisses. diluc rolls off of you, some of his warm seed oozing out of you when his softening dick slips out. he rests his hand above your hip and pulls you to him until the side of your face is pressed against his warm chest, his heart still thumping at a fast pace. you place tender butterfly kisses against his flushed skin as he presses his lips to the top of your head. you lie there together, basking in the long-desired feeling of being in each other’s arms, two sweaty bodies shimmering in the moonlight as you mindlessly trace your names on the other’s back until diluc feels you shiver.

“come on,” he says, sitting up. “let’s get dressed and go back to my place for a hot bath.”

slipping your shirt on, you hesitate. “but…adelinde and the others…they’ll know.”

zipping his pants before shoving his soiled boxers into his pocket, he says, “they already know. they’ve been hounding me about us for years.”

you look up at him, a wide grin gracing your features. “'us'? really?”

he simply nods with a smirk, holding his coat open as you slip it on again. it’s heavy, but the weight is comforting and familiar, protective like armor. “i think nothing would make them happier.”

you help him fold your blanket before wrapping your arms around his waist. “will you carry me on your back?” you ask, standing on your tiptoes to punctuate your request with a kiss.

“of course,” he chuckles softly, kissing you back before turning around and crouching. “hop on.”

with your legs hooked over his arms, he carries you back to the winery. you prop your chin on his shoulder, catching your scent on him and giggling every time his hair tickles your face in the breeze.

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ diluc m.list

✧:･.☽ ･ﾟ happy birthday to diluc! it's after midnight where i am, but it's still his bday somewhere! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed reading this. thank you, loves! 💋

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walkawaytall · 1 year

Text

I am very stressed about a thing that I can’t discuss right now that I have literally no control over, so here’s some

fanfic writer asks

that I came up with all on my own. Ask ‘em, share ‘em, do whatever.

Have you pulled inspiration from media sources other than the property your fic is related to (a plot point from a TV show that has nothing to do with the characters/setting of the fic, a line from a book, etc.)? If so, for which story? Why did you find that media source compelling?

What is your favorite paragraph from (insert story title you want to know about here, or leave it blank for writer’s choice)? Is there a reason it’s your favorite?

What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

Share a headcanon about (character name) in (story title)!

Is there a tiny detail in one of your fics that you feel goes tragically unnoticed?

What is your favorite type of feedback to receive (favorites/kudos, comments, DMs, complete and utter silence in the pursuit of remaining unperceived?)? If comments or DMs or anything else involving a reader writing, do you have a particular type of feedback that excites you more than other types?

Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

Is there a story idea you have that you would love if it could appear fully realized but that you do not think you’ll ever write yourself?

Do you prefer to read angst or fluff? Which do you prefer to write?

If you could banish a single trope to live at the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again by any human eyes (or at least your own), which trope would that be?

Conversely, if you had to pick a single trope to read for the next seven-and-half years, which trope would that be?

What are your thoughts on slow burn romances?

Are you secretly Tara Gilesbie aka XXXbloodyrists666XXX aka author of infamous Harry Potter fanfiction serial My Immortal? (you can trust me; I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise)

Has anyone ever created anything (art, a podfic, another fic, etc.) inspired by your work? Which work? How did you feel about that?

Is there any genre, trope, or style that you find particularly challenging to write? Do you enjoy the challenge or prefer to avoid it?

Is there a commonly held misconception about one of your stories that you’d like to correct for the masses?

What does your editing process look like?

Share a headcanon relating to (insert desired theme here)!

What was the very first fanwork you ever created? (I’m talking like maybe you made a little book out of construction paper and staples with your favorite Disney characters drawn in it when you were five years old or you drew a comic about a movie you saw when you were a preteen. That sort of thing.)

Is there anything about any one of your fics that you have been dying to discuss but haven’t had the chance to?

#my asks #fic writer asks #fanfic writer ask game #fanfic writer asks #fanfic writer ask #ask away

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serial-serializednovelreader · 2 months

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Any ideas how Jonathan is managing to survive despite the heights he has to climb and the Carpathians he has to walk through and all the wolves?

Ooo love this question!

I have a few theories:

1. Pure adrenaline — I imagine during the climb down the castle, Jonathan used up a lot of adrenaline in order to climb at a good pace while avoiding falling — he probably needs this boost due to the stress of the day’s events and making the decision to scale the castle wall as a means of escape. If Jonathan climbing down the castle wall successfully seems improbable (and it kind of is!!), consider there have been many cases of adrenaline allowing people to accomplish feats they otherwise wouldn’t be able to do. Still, an adrenaline kick won’t last long, which brings me to my next theory….

2. Dracula’s bite — That’s right, folks! If I’m connecting the dots correctly, Jonathan had just gotten fed on the night before his great escape by Dracula, and in my mind, this would give him a tiny bit of Dracula’s abilities. Not much, mind you, just a little bit. If my theory is true, this would give him a some supernatural strength, speed, and (likely) endurance. This would definitely help him through his lizard climb, the forest, and then the long trek through the Carpathians. It might even help his balance, let him go for a while without food and see better in the dark (my own personal speculations). However, that’s not all Jonathan has to face on this dangerous journey. He has also has to face…

3. The wolves — I have three ideas for how he might be successfully dealing with these!

The first theory is that he doesn’t even have to deal with the wolves at all. Here’s how:

If Jonathan was able to finish his climb down the castle around mid-morning/early afternoon, let’s say (a generous assumption, I know), there’s a possibility the wolves are sleeping at this time (despite them being nocturnal, this article states they actually do most of their sleeping at night with short naps during the day — those who know more about wolves, please feel free to correct me on this!). Therefore, he might be able to make it out without alerting them to his presence at all. Assuming Dracula as the carriage driver really did drive in circles that first time, it might not take him as long to get out of the forest by the castle as his first time around.

However…Jonathan won’t be going for subtlety here. He is trying to get out of this place as fast as possible. I’m almost certain he’s running for it….and wolves are light sleepers. It’s highly unlikely none of them would hear him traipsing through the woods with all the grace of an elephant (not that I blame him).

So, how does he survive if/when the wolves wake up? Let’s move on to my second theory:

They’re not under Dracula’s influence anymore. Now that he’s has been carted away from the castle, his influence on the wolves surrounding it has diminished. This would make sense, as Dracula likely can’t focus his power on them from that far away and also store up his power for the journey ahead (if that’s how his power works — there’s also the possibility they’re constantly under his control, but I’m not sure about that one. He still has limitations). Plus, he would assume Jonathan would be accepting his fate right about now, not attempting to escape. There would be no need to keep the wolves on guard for him. Furthermore, wolves are not usually dangerous to humans unless provoked/very very hungry or the wolf in question has rabies (source: this article). While these wolves have killed humans before and would likely have no problem doing so again, there is the possibility that they don’t remember doing it. We don’t know how the wolves experience his influence or if they can remember what they’ve done under it (like Jonathan with the vampire sisters) or if they don’t remember a thing (like Jonathan with Dracula’s feeding). Most notably, they haven’t done anything unless Dracula has called them to do so (which is their normal way, they don’t tend to get in human business). If they don’t remember what Dracula has made them do, it’s likely they wouldn’t naturally attack a human and would just leave him alone.

However, if they do feel compelled to attack Jonathan even without Dracula’s influence (or if they just somehow have constant orders to attack anyone who tries to go to or leave the castle), we’re onto my next theory…

Again, Dracula’s bite. What if his bite gave Jonathan a fraction of Dracula’s ability to control wolves? This likely means he can’t make them do much of anything, except maybe summon them (if he knew how to — he doesn’t) or, instead, they follow him until he reaches the edge of the forest (which, if you’re wondering how Jonathan feels about a pack of wolves calmly following him as he walks out of the forest, it’s going about as well as you’d expect…not great).

This would really be the only feasible way I could see Jonathan surviving the wolves if they were in “attack mode” because…he can’t really outrun them (sure, he likely has a bit of vampiric speed, but they would be coming at him from all angles) and he doesn’t have any weapons on him. How else is he going to escape the pack if they decide to attack at once? I just don’t see another way.

That’s about all for my theories. From there it’s just a matter of finding rest/food/water where he can, staying vigilant, and not letting the HorrorsTM get to him.

I could be missing something obvious, so please feel free to point out anything I missed. Or, if you have your own theories, I’d love to hear those too!!

#thanks for the ask anon!! <3 :))#and yes I did keep this deliberately spoiler-free #my personal favorite is the wolves walking Jonathan out of the forest #but that’s just a theory #a game theory #(I can’t help myself)#jonathan harker #dracula daily #dracula #anon ask #ask answered #cw killing mention #killing mention

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writing-for-marvel · 2 years

Text

In The Margins

Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: At first you’re confused by Bucky’s choice of gift for you, until you look a little deeper.

Warnings: this is meant to be a general holiday gift exchange fic and I’ve tried to make it as holiday neutral as possible but please let me know if I’ve missed something, a little light angst at the start cause it’s me, but other than that just fluff

Word count: 717

A/N: banners by @vase-of-lilies, dividers by @firefly-graphics. I haven’t written in over a month cause work has been insanely hectic so please be kind, I’m a little rusty 💜

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

It was clearly a book.

Bucky’s untidy, and sticky tape littered gift wrapping did nothing to hide the size, shape or pliant feel of the present. You had been gifted enough novels in your life to know there was indeed a paperback book underneath the holiday themed wrapping paper.

And as reading was one of your favourite pastimes, you were excited at the prospect of having a new story to absorb. A complex world with compelling characters you could fall in love with for the first time, the possibility of finding a new author with a fresh and unique style that would capture your intrigue to delve down a rabbit hole of their publications.

As you unwrapped the gift, you were met with extremely familiar cover art. One that had become your greatest source of comfort, an intricate world you loved to get lost in and one you frequently returned to when times were at their toughest. These particular set of words felt like a warm and protective embrace, one that you could alway rely on being there for you when you needed solace.

You chuckled nervously, unsure why he gifted you a copy of your favourite book, one that was clearly secondhand if the crack in the spine was anything to go by.

You already owned a copy that was extremely well loved, and you knew it wasn’t a first edition based on the cover age, so it puzzled you as to why he thought this would be the perfect gift he had teased in the lead up to the holiday.

Bucky knew this was your favourite book, he had listened for hours as you dissected apart the themes, your favourite scenes, the character you identified with most and how their love interest would go to the ends of the world to protect them.

Your heart sank - had he truly not been paying attention all that time?

Perhaps you were being too harsh, maybe he was just one of those people that was terrible at giving gifts.

Every interaction with Bucky always felt as though he knew you like the back of his hand, that he could read how you were feeling as if you were his favourite book.

You smiled at him, trying to avoid that awkward exchange of pretending you liked the gift when in reality it was something you already owned, but he was already on the offence, knowing you well enough to tell you were attempting (and failing) at hiding your true reaction.

“Open it.” He chuckled, as if to say ‘give me a little credit, there’s more to it than that’.

Once you flipped to the first page it dawned on you what Bucky had actually done. Scrawled in the margins of the page was his own handwriting, having underlined certain lines and scribbled annotations beside them.

Flicking through each page his handwriting gradually became messier, but the commentary didn’t abate. And when you finally reached the chapters you loved most, you could tell he had been paying attention during all your rants because his comments included ‘I see your point about…’ and ‘I can see why you adore this part so much’.

Lost in your own little world, you could hear Bucky’s voice in your head as you read his annotations, his chuckle when he underlined certain phrases and wrote ‘this reminded me of you’. The way your heart swelled in that moment could rival when the grinch's heart grew three sizes.

It was the most extensive love letter you had ever received, the person you loved most in the world providing you with his intimate thoughts on a book you treasured with your whole heart. Every time you picked up that book you would never be alone, Bucky would now forever be reading it alongside you.

Tightly clutching the book close to your chest, you finally looked up at Bucky with teary eyes to find his own softly gazing at you, brimming with affection.

“I don’t have any words except thank you. I love it.” Your throat felt dry, though a tear slipped down your cheek. Bucky reached up and carefully wiped it away.

“And I love you.”

Next year you’re really going to have to up your gift giving game if you’re going to outdo him.

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natslildove · 2 years

Text

gif not mine

Bring you back

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: since vormir, you haven’t been in touch with any avenger, you went missing. no one knew where you were or if you were even still alive. until one day, you hear a knock on the door and a familiar face awakes something inside of you, you thought was long gone. hope.

warnings: swearing, panic attack

authors note: sorry it took me like 2 weeks.. i kind of forgot what the story was supposed to be lol. anyways !!!! hope you enjoy it ! <3

you can find the previous chapter here.

11:07 AM

You’ve been in the compound for less than an hour and you’re at Tony and Bruce’s lab, being overwhelmed with theories of how and why they think they can bring Natasha back.

But the thing is, they only have about 2 days. To be precise, 56 hours. Natasha died at 7:13 PM. That’s why is always so hard to sleep when every night around that time, your mind goes back to Vormir.

“We think that, if we find a way to get to Vormir in time, we might have a chance to stop her”, Tony said.

“Stop her? Won’t that reverse the whole ‘saving the world’ thing?”, you say while looking at the place. It’s a mess. Natasha would’ve hated.

“No, you see, time doesn’t work that way. We can’t go back in time and undo something. It would just create a different timeline, but not change ours. If we go back in time and kill Thanos, everything he’s done will still be done but, the second we kill him, another string of time would be created.”

“Says who?”

“Someone who knows about this stuff, trust me”, Bruce tries to convince you without revealing his source. You look at Tony who just makes a gesture suggesting you to ignore this part.

“So you’re saying that, basically, all we have to do is… Go to Vormir?”

“At the right time, yes”, Stark seems hopeful.

“And why don’t you just get a quinjet or something and go?”

“Because, and that’s the problem, Vormir is about 15.000 light years… We can’t get there.”

You knew it. All of this was just bullshit and suddenly you hated yourself even more for believing there might actually be a way of bringing her back. You try processing what Bruce just said and it’s like the whole universe is laughing at you for being so stupid. How could you. You were fine. Or at least you tried to believe you were. She’s dead. She is dead. Natasha is dead. Your girlfriend is dead. Girlfriend. God, you couldn’t even propose to her, the ring long forgotten somewhere in the locked room. This is all so stupid. You’re so stupid and your girlfriend is dead and you never even get to call her your fiancé or wife or nothing. Nothing. She was nothing now. You’re not even a widow, you’re just nothing. You’re no one and you have no one. You’re alone. It should’ve been you. Not her. She was perfect, she deserved to live. She deserved to win. She should be here.

“Woah, hey! Y/N! Hey, what happened?” Tony is holding your face between his hands and you just now realize you were crying. Bawling. You heart was beating so fast you felt like throwing up.

Fucking panic attacks.

You couldn’t speak, your eyes going back and forth but never really looking at the man in front of you. You shake your head and dries your tears with the back of your hands with a certain strength. You whole face is red and Tony and Bruce are giving you pitiful looks.

God, you hated this. So much.

“I’m fine, it’s fine” you take a deep breath, “Just keep going… How- Is there a way to get there or not?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can-“

“I’m fine!”, you cut Bruce, “I’m fine, okay? Just answer me”

“Uhm, there might be a way”

“Stop with this might this might that. Just fucking say it already”

“You know Carol? Captain Marvel, Space chick, blonde and tall?”

“I know of her”

“She got her powers from the Tesseract”, Tony continues, “And now, she can fly trough galaxies like, super fast!“

“So we need her?”

“Not exactly”, this time, Bruce says, “Carol is really, really far away, not even with all her powers she could get there in time. We can’t even reach her”, the scientist looks at you, “We need the Tesseract”

“To create a machine?”

“To hit someone with it”, Tony says while cleaning his throat. You barely even listened.

“What? Are you- Are you serious?”

“It could work”

“It could kill someone! This Carol chick only survived because she was half Kratos or something!”

“Kree, and yeah, maybe, but”, the sortear guy keeps trying to convince you, “It worked! All we need is someone willing to do it. Without risk tests and all the regular procedures we are legally required to do”

Oh. A lab rat. They needed a lab rat dumb enough to sacrifice their life’s for a maybe.

Maybe the person will die. Maybe the whole compound would explode. Maybe it wouldn’t even do nothing.

Maybe they’d get Natasha back.

“I’ll do it”

“Yeah, we know Romeo”, Tony smiles. Bruce walks fast to a closet, opening and grabbing a suit.

“We made from your old measures but…”, Banner looks at you up and down and you feel embarrassed and exposed, “We might need to tighten a little bit”

Ouch, what a way to call you malnourished.

12:33 - 55 hours and 20 minutes until Vormir

Bruce was still measuring you in the lab and it was quiet. You knew he had questions but you were grateful he didn’t asked them.

Yelena enters the place holding a bag os chips and a bottle of water. She doesn’t say anything just gives it to you.

“Eat. And drink it”

“I’m not really hungry”

“I literally did not asked anything”, she opens the bag while still in your hands and grabs some chips, “Natasha will hate to see you like this”, she smiles, “I can picture her complaining about your habits”’ now she laughs, “I mean, when she sees your house she will freak out! You killed all her plants! The place is a mess”

“You’ve only seen the outside”

“Sure”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?”

“I mean…”, she steals more chips, “Sure”

You get this weird feeling that she’s been visiting you without you realizing it. It says a lot about you.

When Yelena stops rambling about her sister, that’s when you realize you’ve eaten some chips. Basically the whole bag, per se.

“You talk as if you’re sure this will work”, now you’re drinking the water. Yelena is smiling not only because of the conversation.

“Someone has to, right?”

Yeah. Someone has to.

1049 words.

taglist: @fxckmiup @janashstorm @smromanoff @natsxwife @makkaroni221 @marvelogic @thelonewriter247 @lizzeolsenismommy @g-athenaathens ( tumblr just won’t let me tag u idk why i’m sorry :(( )

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow

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surachibee · 10 months

Text

if you’ve been following a lot of my recent stuff, you’ve probably noticed (or maybe you haven’t, idk!) that I’ve been tagging a few art posts as ‘pitverse’. You’ve also probably noticed that I’ve provided no context to these posts what-so-ever! and that sucks! So to explain a bit, I present:

”surachi what the heck is pitverse”

Okay, first. ‘Pitverse’ is a working title. Maybe. It’s cheesy, but I kinda like it because it’s cheesy.

Anyways, if you’ve been following me for a while, you may or may not remember this art where I designed a bunch of pits that were loosely based on the different ending to the original Kid Icarus on the NES. Some took influence from different places (eg. the solider ending heavily drawing inspiration from Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters) and some were completely made up (eg. the farm ending’s design). It was fun! And it pretty much started this whole idea to begin with.

I’d draw some stuff here and there for it, but other than that I never really did much with the idea other than ‘oh hey look designs’. That is until it came up again a couple years later when I started to get *really* into oMaM stuff, which led to me coming back to the idea of a weird multiverse thing.

Thanks to a few friends, we talked about it and eventually it became like a four-swords adventure multiverse labyrinth thing. Pandora’s Labyrinth times twelve. So as it is right now, it’s like a hypothetical game where some new *evil big bad* takes a handful of Pits from different universes/timelines and plops them into some pocket dimension of different levels and challenges, and together, they have to find out what the heck going on.

Right now, I think I’m gonna try to keep it to three Pits for simplicity sake. Obviously, Pit from Kid Icarus: Uprising has to be here, that’s our guy. He’s also the protagonist! He’s left relatively unchanged in this AU. This also takes place in a post-game setting, so he’s already fought Hades. This applies to the other guys as well, even if their hypothetical “games” and adventures aren’t actually real (Factor) or heavily rewritten (Myth) here.

Good news is that Uprising Pit can still communicate with Palutena! But he’s the only one out of the bunch that can. (Would’nt that have been nice? Imagine all the work you could get done with THREE Palutenas [haha reference]). In this AU’s logic, Uprising’s world in the pocket-dimension what-ch-ma-have-it space is closer to the one where this takes place, so (Uprising) Palutena is able to establish a decent enough connection to at least communicate, though it’s not the best. The other Pit’s worlds are further away, so communication with their respective realms are off the table. This also causes other problems like occasionally “bugging out” and forgetting stuff since they’re so far from their original worlds. So Uprising Pit got kinda lucky.

Speaking of other Pits, there’s other Pits! Both of them draw inspiration from things previously done/involved in the franchise so they’re not entirely made up, but they do stray pretty far from their source material. Anyway..first, we have Factor! He’s heavily inspired by Factor 5’s rendition of Pit from their “Icarus” project back in 2007-2008 that was turned down. Here, this AU’s interpretation of the idea is a little more in line with the franchise’s overall light-hearted and goofy nature. (In this AU the Pit’s are taken from different points in time, so he would’ve been plucked from the future. I did this so 1. They all could look visually distinct from each other, and 2. the thought of Factor going “oh he doesn’t know about [x] yet” or Uprising Pit insisting Myth to NOT go after the wish seed in the future was funny.)

Next…there’s Myth! He’s based on Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters, and besides a few plot points he’s pretty much just a modern take on the character. He was easier to pin down because while the concept of Factor’s story was interesting, being banished from the heavens for some unspecified crime, it’s pretty vague in comparison. With Myth, there’s an entire game with a plot to go off of, even if this AU strays a bit from it.

That’s pretty much the basics of this AU! Just a couple of Pits going on an adventure getting into other-worldly shenanigans. I’m having a ton of fun with it and hopefully I can develop the idea more as I go along. Thanks for reading! There’s some extra footnotes and miscellaneous doodles below.

• This AU follows the idea that oMaM takes place in a different timeline than Kid Icarus: Uprising, hence it not being referenced (at least not on purpose, I’m looking at you aurum track accidentally having the same intro motif) or mentioned. Plus y’know, Sakurai not knowing it existed so there’s that. Might as well rework it into a weird explanation. (coping)

• All of these worlds take place in different timelines, so Factor isn’t an older version of Uprising Pit, nor is Uprising an older version of Myth. They’re all still Pit, and all of them have fought Medusa, but it had different outcomes (somewhat based on the endings) and at that point they diverged from each other. • I’ll probably change the naming of the Pits at some point. While they’re good right now, I’m not sure if I wanna keep Factor named after a company. Might have their names based off the titles of their respective games, so instead of “Factor”, “Myth”, and “Uprising” it’d be “Icarus” (based on the project’s internal name), “Myth”, and “Uprising”.

#surachiarttag #pitverse tag #kid icarus au

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nayatarot777 · 10 months

Text

what do you need to know for the month of november? • pac

• pile one •

this month is full of a lot of responsibilities that could be becoming a burden for you at this point. you’ve been working extremely hard within your work life or a particular craft that you have - probably to the point of being a perfectionist with the work that you do - and i feel like it’s due to wanting to just get an abundance of work done as quickly as possible. however, spirit is suggesting that you don’t force anything regarding this, otherwise you’ll really tire yourself out. put yourself in a restful period and be patient with your manifestations coming in, instead of trying to force your manifestations to come in the “perfect” way for you. you may be trying to control the outcome a bit too much. but resting will rebalance your energy, and you’ll get the manifestations that you deserve. you’ve already put in enough work, so now it’s time to step into receptive energy and receive instead of trying to continuously achieve.

• pile two •

someone is really emotionally attached to you, pile 2. this could be someone who has romantic feelings for you in particular, and i’m also seeing a child, a friend, or someone who has a very soft energy. this is someone who feels like you’re a source of stability and structure for them. like you’re a dependable person who they can rely on. you make them feel light regardless of any darkness or difficulties that they may be going through. and i’m hearing that they want to nurture you and “water” you in return. this could be a younger air sign or someone who just may be more mentally immature than you - but not necessarily in a negative way. i’m picking up on a lot of naivety from this person. this is someone who you’re very sweet towards, and they feel sweetness towards you. honey could also be significant for you (maybe this person eats a lot of honey or something like that). there’s a significant completion of a cycle regarding this person, and i feel like this completion is more so related to them than you. with your help, this person has found a lot of courage to achieve something that they’re passionate about. something about learning how to use their voice a lot more too. i’m hearing that they’re no longer playing small and they’re stepping into a more confident energy when it comes to going after what they want. if this is your child, or a younger sibling, or just someone who you’ve worried about due to them being a bit timid, then i’m seeing that their meekness is coming to an end. they’re finding themselves and their ability to act (maybe even defend themselves) a lot more.

• pile three •

i’m seeing a new connection or a new friendship beginning in the month of november. there’s going to be a lot of pure love that you guys feel for each other. this person will especially like some type of fiery nature that you have. i’m hearing that you have a backbone and that makes you very attractive to this person. this makes them feel like you’re a safe person, as they may be the opposite to you. i’m picking up on fire energy for you and water energy for this person. there’s someone else in the picture though. perhaps a younger air sign or an air sign that’s more immature than you. i’m hearing that they feel like their voice isn’t heard by you or like they haven’t yet figure out a way to speak their complete truth to you. but i’m getting the energy that this person in particular feels quite abandoned by you. they could feel that way even more so when you connect to this new person. it’s like this person will be on the outside looking in on this new acquaintanceship, friendship, or relationship. they’re going to see how this new person lights you up a lot more than they do and they’re going to feel a little bit of insecurity. for others of you, you may not experience a new connection with a new person, but a new connection with this person who’s feeling some type of insecurity. your connection could change after they find the courage to express something small to you. i feel like this person is a little bit intimidated by your confidence or your fiery nature, but if they choose to speak whatever truths that they have, then you’re going to feel a lot safer to them. and they’re going to find that there’s a lot of love that can be exchanged between the both of you. this person may have a bit of a colder and more detached energy now, but it’s because they’re observing you and trying to figure you out in some way as a way to see whether you’re safe for them to come towards or not. i’m seeing that this month will change them into a more softer or emotionally open person though. you may be surprised by this or surprised by the new feelings that you feel for this person.

#pick a card #psychic readings #pac #tarot reading #pick a photo #tarot #pac reading #pick a picture

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humbledragon669 · 25 days

Text

Book to screen comparison P2 – differences

Whilst reading the book, it became clear that the notes I was making fell into three loose categories:

Things that were new information, or only disclosed in the book (but would still fit into the canon of the show).

Information that is confirmed in the book, or possibly explicitly stated (rather than being implicitly stated in the show). These and the new information points are in part 1 of the write up for this episode.

Things that are fundamentally different between the book and the show.

Not all of the notes fit neatly into one category or the other (there are shades of grey...). The first two of the categories will be presented within bullet lists, with a description. The last of the categories will be presented in a table. I'll make comments about anything I find particularly notable after each category.

N.B. I have made the comparisons between the book and the finished episodes that were released, NOT the Script Book. Some of the elements I have commented on can be found within the Script Book, but never made it to the finished episodes – I will point these out on their individual list/table entries.

Differing elements

I’m just going to start this section with a disclaimer – I’m 100% sure that I have not highlighted ALL of the fundamental differences between the book and the show. I read the book before I started doing the episode write-ups, and whilst I made plenty of notes in my copy, my attention to detail has become somewhat more honed in recent weeks. I really wasn’t up for reading the book again before I engaged in this write up, partly because I’m pretty keen to get stuck into the season 2 write-ups and finishing up the fanfics I have on mental hold. Also because of the information that has come to light since I read it last, the allegations made against one of the authors makes for some very uncomfortable reading in the book – the depiction of women in particular was difficult to swallow even before the allegations came to light. There are also some sections of the book that have racist, homophobic, and/or xenophobic undertones, and whilst it’s my belief that these were intended as a device to make a commentary of certain social issues in a satirical manner, I now find them simply a bit too vulgar to appreciate. With that (possibly overly sensitive) point made, let’s move on to looking at some of the book-to-screen differences in a bit more detail.

There are a couple of the points in the table that I’ve actually already touched upon in various episode and script-to-screen write-ups. Details below:

Crawly’s form (serpent vs. human) on the Garden of Eden wall.

The arrival of Crowley and Aziraphale to the Dowling house.

The resurrection of the dove from Aziraphale’s sleeve.

The second set of Horsemen.

Aziraphale’s quest for a body to inhabit.

The effect that keeping the Bentley going has on Crowley.

Chapter/episode subtitling.

Adam seeing a vision of Agnes in the sky.

Looks like I’ve done a load of the leg work for this section already! That said, there are a couple of things left to talk about that I haven’t discussed in the context of differences between source material and end product. The first of those, and it’s fairly minor, is the Bentley’s demise. In the book, the poor thing comes to a rest, slumps on its melted tyres and pretty much just expires in front of everybody present. It’s a very different end to the huge explosion we got in the finished episode.

I’m rather glad the Bentley gets an explosion for its “death”. It helps to convey how shocking, devastating, and irreparable the event is. The idea of it just sitting there alone, burned out with the flames slowly extinguishing, doesn’t feel like it does any justice to the mechanical wonder that has been an integral part of Crowley’s life for so long.

One point that I think is worth looking at a bit more is the difference between the representations sent from Heaven and Hell to talk to Adam about restarting Armageddon. In the book, it’s Metatron and Beelzebub. In the show, Gabriel take’s Metatron’s place. I can see the argument for both of these – ultimately both agencies would send the highest ranking “officer” that wasn’t the boss to try and resolve this situation, so the book’s version would be accurate. That said, Metatron and Beelzebub aren’t actually of equal standing in their respective agencies – Beelzebub is not the voice of Satan. So looking at it that way, Metatron would technically have more authority than her, respectively. And because of that, the show’s version also feels appropriate – I feel like Gabriel and Beelzebub are much closer to equals than she and Metatron would be. So which is better? Honestly I don’t know. I think probably the show version, but that’s more to do with the fact that we the audience are more associated with Gabriel and his personality than we are with Metatron. Also because season 2 – the tarmac is where it all began with Gabriel’s memories, so if he wasn’t there, how would that storyline have manifested?

Right, last up, and if you haven’t worked out which of the differences I’m about to comment on, let me make it painfully obvious for you.

vs.

Crowley’s response is VERY different in the book, isn’t it? And is a perfect demonstration of the fundamental difference between the book-version of our hero couple and the show-version. I will not bore you with my rambling, one-track minded thoughts about what the wall slam represents (if you want to read them, you can find them in the episode 2 write-up) but what I will say is that it’s obvious there’s no sub-textual sexual tension in the book version of this scene. I don’t think I need to tell you which version I prefer (it’s the wall slam, of course it’s the fucking wall slam, anybody who says otherwise is WRONG).

Closing thoughts

Well this was fun, even with the discovery that some parts of the original text are less than palatable (for me anyway). I have read done my fair share of consuming books and their movie/TV show counterparts, and I can honestly say that Good Omens season one is probably the closest adaptation I have ever come across. Even large chunks of the dialogue have been lifted from the book word-for-word. And I have to say, as an avid reader, I really appreciate that. Nothing irritates me more than a media adaption of a good book that bears little resemblance to the original text (looking at you The Shining, I hate Kubrick’s adaption of Stephen King’s brilliantly terrifying book with an absolute passion), so this has been a really refreshing experience. That said, there will always be differences between a piece of text and its visual adaptation – sometimes those differences are implemented for reasons of visual entertainment or flow, sometimes because the original text is perhaps not quite appropriate to the current day. What’s interesting about this adaptation is that the big change is the nature of the relationship between the two main characters: it’s clearly friendship in the book, and clearly love in the show. What makes this all the more interesting is that the tone and the underlying story doesn’t change, despite this pretty monumental shift and in fact I think having Crowley and Aziraphale harbouring more-than-friendly thoughts about one another makes the show more relevant to today’s audience – I will happily declare that this show would never have been as popular as it is if they were just friends, and I will die on this hill. In fact, I don’t think we’d ever have gotten a second season (or, hopefully, a third). Usually I detest this sort of fundamental change (the Pet Cemetery remake is a great example – the child that dies beneath the truck is supposed to be a boy, and a toddler at that. The producers probably thought it was too shocking for an audience to see, but THAT WAS ALWAYS THE POINT), but this one? Well, if 100K+ words (running total on this show so far) doesn’t tell you that I love it, nothing will.

I think that’s probably my lot for this. It’s time to move back into episode write-ups, which I’m really excited about. As always though, questions, comments, discussion (particularly if there’s a difference between the book and show that I’ve missed): always welcome.

#good omens #good omens season 1 #good omens book

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jonnywaistcoat · 2 years

Note

Hello! I know you don’t generally answer MAG questions, since it’s done with and you have the Q&As to stand on their own, but I have just the one highly specific question that’s been haunting me for three years now so I figure it can’t hurt to at least ask w the knowledge that this is an unlikely avenue to receive answers!

Anyway— in MAG - 07, The Piper, was the description of the eponymous piper as a figure of War inspired in any way by the last book in the Anne of Green Gables series (Rilla of Ingleside) or was it a different source/its own separate invention? I read it as a kid and grew up thinking that the Piper from Walter Blythe’s poem in that book was like a known Thing TM/metaphor/symbolic character/whatever you want to call it of WWI, and listening to the statement only confirmed that, until I tried to actually explain/source it to a friend of mine, and the poem, the MAG episode, an American propaganda poster for war gardens, and a fair bit of info about actual bagpipers in the trenches so! It’s just been driving me wild as to whether that’s a coincidence or not ever since then! Thank you so much for your time and works, I’ve yet to meet one I haven’t enjoyed, and I hope you’re having a good day!

I've never actually read any Anne of Green Gables, I'm afraid. The original seed of The Piper actually comes from Uriah Heep's song "The Fires of Hell" off the album Sea of Light. As a young teen my music taste was shaped (as many are) by my dad's CD collection, and so I got very into 70s prog - Uriah Heep's 30th anniversary concert was actually one of my first live music gigs. Now, Sea of Light was one of their albums that my did didn't own (understandable, as it's pretty mid in terms of their discography), so I bought myself a copy. It was one of my first CDs and I listened to it a lot, and for some reason "Fires of Hell" lodged in my brain. It's sort of a prog rock rendition of a WW1 soldiers letter home, and one of the verses talks about "hearing the pipers song". In retrospect it's not a particularly great song, but that image never left me, and after about ten years of percolation and reading more about the great war, it finally found expression in Magnus.

#q my a #jonny is bored on a train

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journey-to-the-attic · 7 months

Text

3rd anni req 1: lucifer / night dagger scene

ao3 link

note: what better way to kick things off than to make lucifer so very sad! this is based on lesson 38 of the original game, during the whole three-realms-imbalance-lucifer-amnesia arc. requested by anonymous - thank you!

little bit of context: in our version, the source of the imbalance is an 'aberration', which ik is the 'host' of - owing to the weird time stuff + exposure to extremely potent foreign magic, meaning she has the exact specific constitution that allows the aberration to form

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“I’ve told you everything I know. Do what you think is right - I trust you.”

Solomon tells me this, presses a cold blade into my hand, and leaves. Lucifer stands in his wake and stares at me in blank silence.

Do what you think is right.

For the first time since he woke up without his memories, I’m grateful that he doesn’t remember anything. I don’t think I could have looked him in the eye if they’d held even a shred more clarity.

“How much did you hear?” I ask.

“...enough.”

Ten frozen seconds tick by without a word. Lucifer steps forward - cautiously, as if approaching a stray dog - and slips the dagger from my hand.

I watch as he balances the blade between two fingers. It looks so fragile that it might shatter at a touch. A single ray of light glances from the sharp edge, into the red of his eyes.

He doesn’t flinch. “So this is the solution.”

He’s holding the blade just out of reach - just high enough that I can’t snatch it back. I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

“It’s only a last resort,” I say, without really processing it. “Solomon’s clever. He’ll come up with something else. He will, he— he has to.”

Lucifer’s eyes flash down to me. Slowly, he crouches down.

“...it’s strange. There are certain things that still haven’t disappeared, even if I’ve forgotten everything else." He smiles a little. "This house - I don’t remember how we came to be here. But I know it is where we've all been together, and I know it is where I want to stay.”

He reaches up, cradling my cheek in a gloveless hand. His skin is ice-cold - but I can only lean closer, grasping for comfort where it lingers, in the way that his thumb still moves in exactly the same soothing motion.

“I don’t remember who I must have been,” He says softly. “But the feeling remains. If this is what it takes to keep you safe, so be it. If we don’t fix this quickly, you’ll all suffer for it. I cannot allow that.”

I hate that he can make it sound so easy. When he presses the dagger back into my hand, I can’t fight it.

“Just close your eyes.” He cups his hand around mine, closing my numb fingers around the handle. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

And he points the tip into his heart.

My hand trembles. He holds it steady. He won’t look me in the eye, won’t raise his head - he keeps it bowed in supplication, waiting silently for the blow.

I can’t do this.

Lucifer doesn’t know how to die. I don’t want to be the one to teach him.

Do what’s right. Do what you think is right.

Do what’s right.

Do what you think is right.

I don’t understand. This is all to restore balance - but why? Why does it have to be like this?

The dagger needs power if the aberration is to be cut out with precision. It has to be done with precision if I don’t want it to tear me apart on the way out. Once torn from its only host, it’ll disappear.

...I should’ve put two and two together. It’s not that I’m special enough to need this whole fancy scheme. This is all a work-around for just how mundane I am.

Solomon hasn’t been telling me everything. Either he’s tricked me, or he’s tricked himself - into thinking that the only solutions for this end with me alive. He watches over humanity, and that includes me - so of course he wouldn't tell me. Of course he's decided that this is the best course of action, because he thinks he knows best.

The dagger could drain the life from my weak human body in an instant - no extra fuss. With that, everything would be fixed. But he's chosen something else. And for this version of the plan, Lucifer has to die instead.

I suppose Solomon doesn’t know me as well as I thought he did. Surely he’d realise that this is worse than anything else he could have asked me to do.

Do what’s right.

Or maybe that’s why he asked me to do it. He knows what would happen if I realised I had any other choice, and it goes against his very purpose to let me do it.

In fact, he's known for a while now. He's just pretended not to, and I haven't questioned it because it's so obvious. If it did work, he'd have brought it up, right?

And that's exactly what he was banking on. Too bad I've outsmarted him at this turn.

Do what you think is right.

I’ve made up my mind.

“No.” Before Lucifer can pull away, I reach up and seize the knife with my other hand as well. “I’m not doing this.”

His expression stutters. “What—”

“This is stupid.” I try to wrest it from him, but he holds fast. “Why are we doing this? Wouldn’t it be so much easier if I just—”

His eyes widen, and he interrupts sharply, “That is not an option.”

“If I'm gone, it all ends." I can't fool him. All I can do is try to reason with him. "I can fix this. I can give you your memories back.”

“And what do you expect me to do after that?!” His voice cracks. It feels as if the sound might break him apart. “You’ll give me my memories - and what will happen when I remember who I am mourning?!”

“You’ll carry on. You always do.” I try to look him in the eyes. He refuses to look back. “If I let you die— that’s thousands of years gone, and thousands more that you won’t have anymore. I know you - you'd want those memories back."

"Your family matters more to you than anything - you'd never want to forget them." I try to offer him a smile - just as he did as he prepared to tell me to kill him. "I'm not important enough to make you give that up."

He stops struggling. His expression is hollow. “...you are lying to me.”

"I know."

Stalemate. Neither of us will back down. Neither of us will let go.

My sleeve has slipped up. There’s a pin-prick of dark blue light winking up at me - a pact he once made to protect me.

I won’t make him do it. But I have to make sure he won’t stop me.

“Lucifer. Give me the dagger.” My head is clearer than ever before. “That’s an order.”

#3rd anni event #<- will probably set up a masterlist at some point but for now just use this tag!#('aberration' is the word i'm using instead of 'ring' since that term always kinda bothered me in canon)#obey me #writing #obey me lucifer #jtta ik #angst

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darlingshane · 2 years

Text

last thread

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2,8k

Summary: Your relationship with Shane is challenged once again by one of his lies, and you've reached a point where you can no longer excuse his toxic behavior.

Content/Warnings: heavy angst, toxic relationship, established relationship, smut, vaginal sex, bittersweet ending.

-- Read below or at AO3.

This is for @lucy-sky 🧡 I hope you like this 🧡

“You're being ridiculous. Why do you always have to make a mountain out of nothing?” It's Shane countering after being confronted about his latest lie.

“I’m being ridiculous? This is not a one time thing, Shane. I'm sick of being lied to! I can't do this anymore.”

Your voice is hoarse, close to breaking, same as your heart. That's what fighting with Shane does to you, and sadly, this is the only form of communication you've been doing lately. You've exhausted all the reasons to stay with him and yet, you keep coming back for more each time like a masochist.

There's no winning when it comes to fighting with him. He always has to own the last word. Sometimes it feels like arguing with a five-year-old, and you just have to swallow your pride, give up and say that he's right when he isn't.

Tonight, your relationship is hanging by the last thread. He’s lied to you once again, and you’ve already run out of patience for his insolence and trust issues. There’s nearly nothing left from keeping you from severing that link, tying you to him, to cut all your problems from the source.

Ever since you moved in together, it has been a constant battle. Everything must be done his way, or you'd never hear the end of it. It's unfortunate and infuriating not being able to be yourself in your own home. You don't even recognize yourself sometimes, either. A few weeks ago, you caught him going through your phone, and you said nothing at the time.

It's partly your fault too for not putting your foot down earlier to stop that kind of behavior, but frankly, you never thought it'd come to this point.

“I'm so tired of this, Shane. You're the most exhausting person in the world.”

“Imagine putting up with you, sweetheart.”

“You started this. You always do. Not me. You're fucking toxic.”

“I am the one who's toxic? Me? I've done everything you've asked. I've gone to all your fucking work parties. I let you pick the movies we watched, the places we ate… You wanted to live together, I got you a house. I'm the sucker here. So excuse me if I wanted to spend just one damn one night with my friends.”

“You gave me a house?” you can only scoff at how absurd he sounds. “I never forced you to do any of that. All I ever wanted was to be with you, and all you've done is lie to my face, and tell me it's all in my head, like I'm crazy. If you wanted to go out with your friends, you should've just told me.”

“You fucking hate my friends! You've made that clear, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“No, I don't like 'em, but I don't care if you go out with them either. When have I? You are the controlling one. I've let you go through my phone, and I kept my mouth shut cause I have nothing to hide, and yet, and the evil one for calling you out. Had I done what you did tonight? This would be much worse. Can’t you see that?”

“You've done nothing! No effort, since we moved in together. You don't wanna go out with me, you half-ass your chores, you're nothing but a waste. You leave every fucking light on around the house and then wonder why is the electricity bill so high. And you're a fucking liar too. I've seen you flirt with every guy that approaches you. Excuse me if I had to put a line there and see that it was just that, flirting.”

“Don't try to turn this the other way around! You were the one caught ’flirting’ at Jeff’s engagement party, or have you forgotten about that?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten about how you stood me out that night and showed up two hours late. I have my dignity.”

“You… have dignity? Go to hell, Shane! Rot in there. I’m just… I’m done. We’re done.”

Throwing the towel, you start shoving clothes from your dresser into a bag to spend the night somewhere else. You’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.

Being with Shane has been… an adventure to say the least. Never a dull moment. For better or for worse, you can't say dating him is boring because not everything was bad as tonight; it'll be selling it short to state just that. There's been a lot of love and devotion for each other. At times, you'd kill for him, jump a cliff, take a bullet, and all that shit if he had asked. But right now you've reached this uncertain point where you're not sure if being with him is worth it. You're so mentally and physically drained that you can't either excuse or forgive his behavior anymore.

You've had enough.

No matter how much it hurts, breaking up with him is probably the best thing to save what’s left of your self-respect.

“Who the fuck is going to take you at this hour?”

“Could you just leave me alone already? Said I'm done. If I have to sleep in the car, I'll do it. Anything is better than having to listen to you all night.”

“You're not sleeping in the car.”

“It's not up to you.”

You turn around for a couple of seconds to grab something from the closet, and Shane takes your bag and dumps your clothes all over the floor.

“Put that back,” you grit between teeth.

“Make me.”

“You think you can keep me here?”

“Oh, I can,” he says boldly.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Cause I love you, and I'm not ready to give up,” he invades your space, blocking you from getting to your stuff.

“You don't love me. This is not love. You're crazy.”

“Keep telling yourself that. But we both know this doesn't end like this.”

“It ends if I say it ends!” you raise your voice again, drown in frustration, “get out of my way, Shane. So help me, God…”

“So what? What are you gonna do, huh?”

Blood boiling, the only thing you can do is press your palms on his chest and shove him backwards.

“Is that all you can do?” he eggs you on, and you push him again, harder; barely making his towering body sway.

“Now, I’m embarrassed for you, sweetheart,” his mouth keeps yapping, and you jostle him twice more with all the rage, and strength you can muster, which is nearly gone from exhaustion and suddenly one of his arms is locked around you and his opposite hand is holding your chin, guiding your face, so you can lock eyes directly with his.

You might be losing your mind cause behind all that hatred and rage, you can still see a sliver of regret behind his actions. And yet he says nothing. Instead, he dips his head after a beat to capture your mouth at the most inconvenient moment, sending his lips to do his bidding cause deep down he knows you can't refuse them.

“Shane,” you sigh anxiously, pulling back from his mouth, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Proving to you that you still love me.”

“I don’t,” you lie before having him again viciously prying your mouth open with his tongue.

You kiss him back with all the sadness you've collected, hurting in your chest, cause believe it or not, he’s right, — you do still love him, and you should be committed for not pulling away from his mouth right this instant.

There's no doubt you're as insane as he is.

Your eyes run hot with tears, finding yourself craving every kiss he’s ever given you. Including this one. As much as you hate him, as much as you want to slap his face, you go against every instinct and keep breathing his air like it was the only thing keeping you alive. His hands move quickly all over your body, pushing your back against the wall. He devours you with both mouth and palms, removing your clothes as you get sucked into his spell.

Stripped down to your underwear, he tucks his fingers between your legs and caresses your mound above the fabric until you’re nothing but a wet mess. Then, he presses himself against you, to show you how much his dick has swollen behind his pants.

“You want me to stop?” He purrs over your lips, under a heavy breath.

You simply shake your head, waving your hips against him.

“See, I knew you hadn’t lost that fire.”

“What fire?” you wonder.

“The one you had when I met you,” he pushes his bulge harder against you.

“Is that why you like fighting me all the time?”

“Maybe,” he scoffs and dives into your mouth once more.

“You're an asshole,” you mumble mid-kiss.

“I know,” half-laughing, he picks you up from your hips and places you not-so-gently on the bed before undoing his belt and pants.

Turning away from him, you get to your knees and push your underwear down before getting on all fours.

“That’s how you want it, huh?” he utters, watching your ass lifted in his direction.

“No, I just don’t wanna look at your fucking face right now,” you bark, looking straight up to the bed’s headboard.

“Guess that’s fair,” he accepts, and shoves two fingers into your entrance without warning. You lightly jolt at the sensation, and you'd kick his balls if you weren’t already wet.

He explores your tender walls in and out a few times before replacing those fingers with his cock. After securing himself inside you, he grabs your hips and thrust into you, slowly at first. It makes your whole body shudder as the pleasure builds up, but you keep your moans buried in your throat, determined to not give him the satisfaction of earning those. He doesn't deserve them.

As his fingers dig deeper at the curve of your ass, his pace picks up, pounding you like a madman, filling the room with the sound of his hips slapping against your ass. He’s terribly loud too, and never mind the lewd string of curses at your name. While you don’t encourage him much, your body can’t fool anybody, let alone Shane. The slick trickling down your legs and wrapping his cock is just enough for him. He slams into you as he gets closer to the edge and urges you to come with him. One of his hands travels around your waist, blindly finding your clit. He rubs that little bundle of nerves furiously, garnering that orgasm that was knotted in your core. As your opening spams round his aching erection, he pushes erratically a couple of times more before filling you up with his warm essence.

You’ve never hated yourself more than when you reach to clean the mess between your legs after he pulls out of you.

As you catch your breath, you lower yourself to the mattress to lay on your side, draping the covers over your body without looking at Shane. You feel him lying behind you and sweetly kissing your exposed shoulder.

Tears brim your eyes as you recover, and he only reacts when a sob escapes your mouth.

“Hey, sweetheart… everything is gonna be okay.”

“It’s not.” You mumble between tears, “you haven’t even apologized. You never do. And everything you said wasn't true. ”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he expresses after a few beats, swallowing his pride and the lump in his throat, “I can't… I can’t let you go like this.”

“You have to. I’m not happy with you, Shane. And you wanna hear the saddest thing about tonight?”

“Tell me.”

You pause and wipe the tears across your face with your hand before confessing, “It’s not the lies, or even the fights�� It’s that I actually missed you tonight, and I went to the station to have dinner with you. I showed up there like an idiot to surprise you. Imagine how that felt, what if it was the other way around? What would've happened if I had done that to you instead?”

“I dunno. I’m real sorry, sweetheart. I should’ve… I don’t know why I said that.”

“Cause you’re not happy with me either. That’s why you lied to me and told me you were working, when you had already left.”

You hear him let out a sigh and shift on the bed to rest on his back and stare at the ceiling, contemplating for a long moment.

You’re doomed for even entertaining the idea of staying with him. You know that. But there’s something deep inside you clinging to that raggedy thread that keeps that flame alive between you two.

“I think it’s best if I leave for a while,” you continue, “maybe putting some distance could help make you see things from differently.”

“Me? You think it’s all about me?”

“It’s always about you, Shane. Don't get defensive again with me,” your voice rasps, going into a ramble, and you’re surprised he doesn’t interrupt you this time, “I don’t have the energy to go through that again. I’m not asking you to change, I just asking you to grow up a little. Get over yourself and your ego, not everything has to be a fight… I just can’t do that anymore. And don’t give me that bullshit that couples need to fight… there’s some healthy fighting about who’s going to do the dishes, and then there’s what you do… And that’s not healthy. That’s incredibly toxic, and dangerous. And I don’t wanna be in a relationship like that.”

He listens to your every word, and considers before answering, “maybe you’re right, maybe we need some space… but you know what? Fuck it, I don’t want you to go, and I don’t wanna leave either. And you can’t just ask me to give up that easily.”

“I’m not asking you to give up, Shane. I know that you love me, but you’re so far up your head that you can’t see that I’m not really happy… I’ve told you twice tonight, and it still goes by you, cause you disregard everything I say. I’m leaving whether you like it or not. I’m not asking for permission.”

He carefully props himself on his elbow, observing you. You can’t see him, but his eyes well up, imagining you leaving. It’s then that he finally folds, letting go of that untamed ego for a moment, as his soul crushes regarding your rambling about how unhappy you are with him.

“Look, if you wanna leave I’m not going to stop you,” one of his hands smooths your upper arm, “but just stay here tonight. Just one more night. That’s the last thing I’m gonna ask of you.”

He sounds so bluntly hurt, it breaks your heart just the same when he finally accepts that he can’t keep you forever.

“It’s not the end, Shane.”

“Feels like it.”

“Not if you’re honest with me.” You finally glance over your shoulder to look at him. “If you really love me… we’ll find a way back, it just has to be a different path, Shane. We can’t make the same mistakes. I can’t fight with you every other day over petty shit like that. That’s no way of living. Don’t you agree? Is that what you expected when we moved in together?”

“No, I guess not,” he heavily exhales, reflecting, “I thought that moving in together was final, y’know? That no matter what happened, we would always work it out.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Guess you're right,” he lets out a sigh, “now, I’ll be lucky if I ever get you back.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Do I… of course I mean that, sweetheart. I can’t imagine not having you in my life… I…,” you can tell it’s hard for him to say that out loud, and you fully turn around and put your hand on his neck. “I promise I’ll be better, if you promise you’ll come back.”

“I… I promise that I won’t give up on us, baby. I can’t promise I’ll be back,” you utter honestly.

“You’re really going to make me work for it, huh?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything. That’s up to you.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he dips to kiss your mouth ever so tenderly, letting his lips bounce a few times on yours before fully capturing the bittersweet taste left in your mouth.

This is the hard part, realizing how sweet he can be without trying at times. If he would just let go of that stubborn pride of his that refuses to admit his wrongs, this would be much easier.

As he delves deeper into your mouth, he slithers on top of you, pushing the sheets to the side, so he can be skin to skin with you, as he fits his hips between your legs once more.

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #darlingwrites

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bluishabalone · 2 years

Text

Into Mariana Trench (INTRO & fic idea)

Pair : Namor x f!reader / K’uk’ulkan x f!reader

👋 Writer note : some idea for the next Namor x reader / K’uk’ulkan x reader if I finish Namor x Shapeshifter reader. And againnn pls pls PLS forgive my poor grammar thx in advance 🙏🏻

⚠️⚠️Y/N’s abilities : communicate with sea life (***just communicate no command ability and there are some that she cannot communicate with i’ll list those down later on.), aquatic abilities ; breath underwater / high-pressure resistant / Night vision / You have bioluminescent bacteria on some area of your body.

Timeline : After Wakanda Forever

Intro idea

Ever since you had heard about the conflict over vibranium resources, you doubled your shift and protection for the vibranium meteor lying in the depth of Mariana trench, even though the meteorite is not as huge as the ones in Wakanda and the Atlantic ocean, it’s still valuable that people would kill for it. You are the last of your kind. Others passed away a long time ago, so there is not much left to do besides the trench is already a solitary place. Working in Mariana island always keeps your hope up on finding someone to rely on and talk about your true self , but still, you haven’t found one yet. From time to time, aquatic animals are your source of news. Communicating with them helps kill loneliness in your heart and helps you learn new things like Talokan. You know every detail about the war between Wakanda and Talokanil. The whales told you everything you wanted to know.

You flinch from your train of thought as you sense frustration in the soft wave hitting your toes. Curious, you walk down the sea and a dolphin comes to you. He comes with a message from the deep sea. “What is it?”, you touch his forehead communicating to him. Communicating with animals is not like speaking to a person, the message does not come in understandable sentences, you try to feel it out and focus on reorganizing the message. “Gamomo.” You sigh, “What has he done this time?” The dolphin lets go from your touch and swims back to where it came from.

The sun is almost set by now. You go back to your house built near the beach, toss your backpack on the bed before you go out to the beach again. You are wearing only a tanktop and diving shorts. Despite the fatigue digging in your flesh, you walk down and plunge into the sea with the speed beyond human ability. It takes a couple hours until you arrive at the entrance of Mariana trench. You feel the pressure pushing your torso while your muscles relax letting the gravity pull you down. The environment has zero visibility, your body is beginning to respond. Your back and some areas on your arms produce hard scales. Your palms and some rifts between scales start to produce bioluminescence, as your eyes adjust to the light.

A creature approaches you from behind, its eerie appearance looks familiar. “Gamomo!”, you turn to a male frilled shark nudging your hands and pet him on his head, “Now what’s the hurry that made you sent a dolphin to me?” Gamomo shakes his tail like a dog demanding attention, he is eager to bring her down the trench. Your brows furrow, “Woah woah! hold up! What do you mean humans without suits? There’s no way they can get down here like that—come on let’s go check it out.”

They don’t even have to reach the bottom to find the answer. Right in front of them, are humanoid creatures, all of them dressed in ancient garments and accessories. You think, What the- They look a bit like Indigenous people from Mariana Island?. But when you take a closer look at costume details and a complex-looking machine with them, you change your mind, Talokanil? “State your business” you greet them out of nowhere startling them. None speaks up, and instead point their spears at you. You repeat “I said state your business, strangers.” One of them with wings attached to his ankles asks, “ Who are you?”

“The right question here is who are you? And why are you?” Your voice turns cold trying to keep your cool despite a concern about you being outnumbered, “I’m not going to ask twice.”

You notice Gamomo commands other frilled sharks to round them up and whisper to him, “Tell them to back up, Gamomo. We don’t want to start a fight, do we?” Gamomo does as she said, all sharks slowly back up blending in the darkness.

The one with winged ankles said, “We detected a vibranium meteorite in this trench and we are here to collect it.”

You knew this day would come but not this soon. “And Who are you ?” He notices you don’t seem surprised much, she knows something, “My name is K’uk’ulkan, King of Talokan.”

Ch1

#Namor #namor x reader #k’uk’ulkan x reader #let me know if you like it or there’s smth i need to fix #bluishabalone

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ejzah · 1 year

Note

prompt request: can you write about kensi watching deeks sleep through out the seasons? like starting at the first time she did (I'm thinking 2x17 when he got shot) then when they were at stakeouts and finally when they were already in a relationship (and could end with she watching him sleep with their baby in his arms)

sorry if I'm too cheesy hahah

I’ll Sleep Beside you any Night

***

February 2011

It’s well past midnight when Kensi creeps back into Pacific Beach Medical. Once she flashes her badge at the security guard, no one bats an eye at her late visit; she supposes after all the excitement of the day, most of the staff recognize her.

Hetty had gently “suggested” she go home around six, assuring Kensi that she would look after Deeks. Kensi had left, mostly because she knew a Hetty order couched in friendliness. Besides, she really hadn’t eaten much aside from Deeks’ purloined jello. At home, she’d eaten, taken a long, hot shower, and then tried to zone out on TV. She’d made it through half an episode of “Hoarders” before she caved and grabbed her keys.

Deeks’ room is quiet, other than the noise provided by the monitors when she walks in. The glow from the switched on, but muted TV is the only source of light.

It’s enough to highlight Deeks’ face and upper body, presumably left uncovered by the last nurse to do rounds. She stares at the swathe of white bandages wrapped around his chest and torso, stained with a dark spot in the center, for several moments.

When she’d left earlier, he’d been exhausted, yet in too much pain to sleep. The thought of him running halfway across the hospital and from what she gather, a few flights of stairs, to come to her rescue horrifies her. As does the memory of the row of popped stitches and blood his heroics had resulted in.

Without thinking about it too much, she reaches out and brushes his hair back from his forehead. It’s a little stiff and matted, but she doesn’t pull away. After everything, Kensi can handle a little sweat and grease. Deeks whines softly, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he turns into her touch. She pulls away before he can fully wake and catch her in a moment of vulnerability.

Rubbing her hands over her thighs, she considers leaving. She’s done her duty. She’s made sure Deeks is as alright as can be expected after his second surgery in as many days. She should feel relieved.

Instead, Kensi takes the hard little chair next to his bed, pulls it right up to the railing, and tugs his blanket over his chest.

***

March 2012

Deeks yawns beside Kensi, blinking a few times as he reaches for his styrofoam coffee cup. He makes a disappointed sound when he finds it empty, and sticks it back in the cupholder of Kensi’s SUV.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kensi sees him try to muffle another yawn as his legs shift restlessly in the footwell. She knows he’s been running an undercover op for LAPD while still fulfilling his liaising duties as much as possible. Including tonight’s surveillance of a possible killer. So she knows he has to be running on fumes.

“Hey, why don’t you rest for a little bit,” she suggests on a whim. Deeks turns slowly, much more slowly than normal and squints. “I’ll let you know if anything exciting happens.

“No, I’m fine,” he says automatically.

“I bet you’ve barely slept this whole week.”

“Aw, is Kensalina worried about me?” He has enough energy to manage a teasing grin.

“Don’t bet on it. You’re a liability if you’re too tired,” she explains. Because she never admits that she cares or worries about Deeks. Not useless under the most dire of circumstances.

“I’ve worked under worse conditions,” Deeks tells her, interrupting himself with a yawn.

“Ah, and there’s my proof. You haven’t complained once all night. If you were really ok, you’d be driving me crazy with your whining.” She lifts her chin, proud of the point she’s made.

“I think I should be offended.”

“Just go to sleep.”

Deeks look like he’s about to argue further (because he seems to know no other way).

“Deeks.”

He stops at her soft admonishment, his upper lift shifting into a wry smile.

“Ok,” he mutters. “But wake me up the second anything happens.” Shifting lower in his seat, which makes Kensi wince in sympathy for his back, and closes his eyes.

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and his face goes slack.

Smiling to herself, Kensi turns to look out her window again. Every so often, Deeks makes a little shuffling noise, or some other sound.

She finds it oddly comforting.

***

October 2013

“It’s a love story.”

Kensi stares at Deeks long after he stops mumbling in his sleep. A part of her is just relieved that he’s finally getting some rest. When she’d first seen him, she’d been shocked by his unwashed hair, less than pristine clothes, and most of all, the deep shadows around his speaking of sleepless nights. It kills her to see him this way. To know he’s been suffering on his own.

The more selfish part of her is dying to know what Deeks meant by his last mumbled words. Was it just senseless sleep-talk? Or something more?

It doesn’t matter either way, Kensi tells herself.

What Deeks needs right now is support from her. Finding out if he feels the same way she does can wait until he’s more stable.

Still, she slides closer, until their forehead are nearly touching, their knees pressed together.

***

March 2019

“Hey, this is the first time we’re sleeping together as a married couple,” Deeks whispers below Kensi’s ear.

There pressed chest to chest, Deeks’ thigh wedged between her legs with her injured ankle carefully propped up by his.

“It is.” Kensi moans softly as he kisses the underside of her chin, but he doesn’t go any further. Between their eventful wedding, and celebratory activities, they’re both exhausted. “I did expect tonight to go a little differently.”

“Ouch.” Deeks pulls back, making an exaggerated face.

Kensi playfully pushes at his shoulder. “You know I didn’t mean that. Well, not exactly.” She gives a half-hearted roll of her hips, a little constrained by their current position. “I was hoping to have a little more stamina. And not a busted up ankle and hand.”

“Hey, we have the rest of forever together.” Deeks tips her chin up, kissing her softly. “Plenty of time to do all the sexy things.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kensi says, even as she rests her head on his chest. “And I love you.”

“Love you too,” Deeks murmurs back, already half asleep.

***

July 2023

“Hey Deeks, have you seen my—” Kensi cuts herself off mid-sentence as she walks into the living room to find Deeks on the couch, the twins cradled in each of his arms. All three are passed out.

Kensi creeps closer, a soft smile curving her lips. Sophia and Caleb are snuggled against his chest contentedly while Deeks’ head bobs forward, hair flopping in his eyes.

It’s adorable.

Pulling out her phone, she makes sure the flash is off before snapping a picture.

Perfection, she thinks as she examines the image.

***

A/N: I hope you approve of the additional moments I chose.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #fluff #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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