#i can give the low-down on what you should read/watch first to understanding whats happening

[holyshonks]

Alright, nerds. I'm moving and have extra Halo books I have no use for. I have one hardcover copy of Halo: Initiation, one softcover copy of Halo: Initiation and Escalation, and one copy of Halo: Divine Wind.

They are all second-hand finds so might show signs of wear.

Free to a good home, I'll even pay shipping (inside the contiguous US). I gotta get rid of em.

Do not ask me how I accidentally bought two extra copies of a comic I already own a gigantic version of.

[coopswhxre]

Word's Mean Nothin'

Boyd Crowder x (Fem)Reader

Word Count: 3,224

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

Synopsis: Boyd confesses his feelings for you and things get a little heated.

This is my first time writing anything for tumblr, so please be nice XD

It had been three weeks since your sister Ava allowed Boyd Crowder to stay in the attic of the home you both shared. He had kept to himself, spending his days reading the Bible and listening to the radio. Frankly, you preferred it that way; seeing his smug face was the last thing you wanted after all the trouble he'd brought upon Ava.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon, you decided to enjoy your coffee on the porch, relishing the crisp air, only to be startled by Boyd sitting on the bench by the door, his expression one of deep thought.

With a sigh, you considered him for a moment before turning to go back inside.

"Y/N," his voice was low as he called out your name, his gaze fixed on the woods beyond your property. "Would you sit with me?"

You paused, your foot hovering over the threshold. "Why should I?"

"Please…" His eyes met yours—wide, hazel, and piercing. To your surprise, they seemed to shimmer with what looked like genuine remorse.

"You've got two minutes, Crowder," you conceded, walking over to take the rocking chair opposite him.

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed defensively as you leaned back. "Well, I ain't got all night, Boyd."

"I've been thinkin' 'bout these past few weeks, what my daddy did to your sister… to you." He gestured towards your shoulder, where a bullet from his father, Bo, had grazed you, sending a chill of remembered pain through you. "I know I can't undo what happened or clear away the bad blood between us, but I need you to know, I'm sorry."

Your gaze hardened, not quite ready to accept his apology, yet you couldn't help but notice the earnestness in his tone—something you hadn't expected from Boyd Crowder. The silence lingered for a moment, punctuated only by the distant calls of evening birds and the soft creak of the rocking chair beneath you.

"Why now, Boyd?" you finally asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "What's changed?"

Boyd sighed, looking down at his hands before meeting your eyes again. "I've had a lot of time to think, up there in that attic. 'Bout my life, the choices I've made, the folks I've hurt." He paused, his voice faltering slightly. "I've realized if I keep goin' down this path, I'll end up all alone. I don't want that. Not anymore."

You watched him, trying to decipher if this was another one of his manipulations. Boyd was known for his silver tongue, and trust was not something easily given, especially to a man like him. Yet, there was something different this time, a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"And what 'bout Ava?" you pressed, the concern for your sister surfacing. "What assurances do I have that you won’t put her—or me—in danger again?"

Boyd nodded, understanding the weight of your question. "I can't give you guarantees, Y/N. All I can offer is my word to do better. I wanna protect Ava, not cause her more pain. I hope, in time, you'll see that."

You remained silent, mulling over his words. The evening chill began to seep through your clothes, reminding you of the fading light.

"Time'll tell, Boyd," you finally said, standing up from the rocking chair. "Words mean nothin' without action. You better prove yourself, or you're out."

As you lay in bed that night, the conversation with Boyd replayed endlessly in your mind. His voice, earnest and somber, seemed genuinely filled with regret—a side of him you hadn't seen before. But deep down, you suspected Ava was his true motivation. Boyd had always harbored a soft spot for her, even during her marriage to his brother.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the radio playing upstairs, its volume carrying through the quiet house. With a muttered curse, you threw off the covers and made your way to the attic to tell Boyd to turn it down.

Reaching the attic door, you knocked sharply before entering. The sight that greeted you made you gasp—Boyd, just out of the shower, clad only in a towel around his waist, his skin damp and his hair slicked back. For a moment, you faltered, taken aback by the stark contrast between his usual rugged demeanor and the vulnerability he now displayed.

"Boyd, the music—it’s too loud," you said, striving to keep your voice steady despite the distraction.

"Oh, sorry bout that," Boyd replied, his tone apologetic as he reached for the radio, turning it down immediately. "Didn’t realize it was carrying through the house."

You nodded, your eyes inadvertently scanning the sparse, dimly lit attic. It was clear he lived simply here, with just a few personal items. The vulnerability of his living situation, combined with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, softened your stance just slightly.

"Thanks," you added, pausing at the doorway. "And Boyd—about earlier… I’m thinking about what you said."

Boyd’s eyes met yours, hopeful yet cautious. "I appreciate that, Y/N. Really, I do."

You were already halfway out the door when Boyd's voice halted your steps. "Wait, Y/N," he called, his tone hesitant yet earnest. You paused, your hand on the door frame, and turned back to face him.

"I just… If you've got a minute, I'd like to say a bit more," he said, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. The soft light from the single bulb overhead cast shadows that played across his features.

You sighed, your initial irritation fading into a cautious curiosity. "Alright, Boyd. What is it?" you asked, leaning against the door frame.

He took a deep breath, searching for his words - eyes searching the dimly lit attic before settling back on you. The air was thick with tension, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something more tentative. "I know this ain't the time or place, and maybe it's not my place to say, but…" His voice trailed off as he took a cautious step closer, his expression earnest.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms defensively. "Boyd, if you've got something to say, just say it."

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on you. "It's just… these past weeks, being here, seeing how you handle everything… it’s made me realize a lot more than just my mistakes." He paused, swallowing hard. "I’ve come to… care for you, Y/N. More than I should, given everything."

The confession hung between you, startling in its sincerity. Boyd looked vulnerable, almost afraid of how you might respond. "I know I don't deserve a chance, not with my history… but if you'd ever think it possible—"

"Boyd, I—" You started, your mind racing with conflicting emotions.

He stepped forward, closing the gap slightly, his presence overwhelming. "I know it's a lot to ask. I don't even know what I’m asking for. Just… don’t shut me out. Please."

The intensity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his voice, it broke through your defenses in a way you hadn't anticipated. You were about to speak, to chastise him or perhaps to dismiss his words, when impulsively, Boyd leaned in, his hesitation melting away in the moment.

His lips met yours, and for a brief second, the world seemed to stop. The kiss was tentative at first, questioning, as if he was still seeking permission. But as you stood frozen, surprised by your own stillness, something shifted. Maybe it was the isolation of the attic, the soft hum of the now-quiet radio, or the genuine remorse he had shown earlier; whatever it was, you found yourself not pulling away.

The kiss deepened slightly, Boyd's lips firm yet cautious. His hand, tentative at first, found its way to the small of your back, pulling you slightly closer. The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the cool air of the attic, and you could feel the dampness of his hair, the remnants of his shower, as his fingers gently brushed against your cheek.

The softness of the moment, the gentle pressure of his lips against yours, was disarming. It wasn't rushed or fraught with the intensity of passion often depicted in stories; rather, it was a slow burn, a flicker of something new.

As Boyd finally pulled away, the slight catch in his breath was audible in the quiet of the attic. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of regret or rejection. What he found instead was confusion.

Boyd's gaze was unwavering, his brow furrowed slightly as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

"I… I'm sorry if that was too much," he whispered. "I just needed you to know, to really know, how I feel."

The weight of his confession, the unexpected intimacy of the kiss, left you silent for a moment. You were still processing, still trying to align this new Boyd with the one you had known, always calculating, always a step ahead.

His eyes held yours, searching for a sign of how you might react next. The tension was palpable, a mix of anticipation and fear. You took a moment, your own confusion swirling with the unexpected emotions stirred by the kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, you made your decision. Stepping forward, closing the gap Boyd had just created, you reached up to touch his face gently, the touch sent a shiver down your spine. Boyd looked at you, his eyes wide.

Without saying a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his again. This time, there was a certainty in your movement, a decision made. Boyd responded almost immediately, his hands moving to your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you invited him further, parting your lips.

Boyd's response was immediate and intense. His tongue met yours, exploring softly, cautiously at first, then with growing confidence as you responded in kind. His fingers pressed into your waist, pulling you flush against his warm chest. The heat from his body enveloped you.

The world outside seemed to fade away as the kiss grew more passionate. You could feel Boyd's heart racing just as fast as yours, his breath mingling with yours, creating a rhythm that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. The soft hum of the radio now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the sound of your joint breathing and the occasional creak of the attic floor beneath you.

As the kiss finally broke, you both stood there, forehead against forehead, trying to catch your breath. Boyd's hands remained on your waist, not willing to let go just yet, and you made no move to step back.

Boyd finally spoke, his voice husky and low. "Y/N, I—"

"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "Don't. We don’t need words right now."

As the tension in the room shifted from apprehensive to charged, you took Boyd's hand. The air in the attic felt thick, almost tangible with the turn of emotions. Leading him to his bed, you were acutely aware of every sound—the slight creak of the floorboards, the distant call of the night, and the rustle of the towel as it shifted against Boyd's form.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. The soft light from the single bulb cast shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the intimacy of the moment. You could see the outline of Boyd's form under the towel, the tension in his body, and the undeniable evidence of his desire.

Boyd stood before you, his breathing deep and uneven.

You reached up, your fingers gently touching the edge of the towel at his waist. Your eyes met, and there was a silent question in yours, a pause as you gave him a moment to decide.

Boyd's hand covered yours, his grip firm yet gentle. He nodded slightly, a wordless agreement, a surrender to the moment and to whatever it might bring. You pulled gently, and the towel fell away, leaving Boyd exposed.

You let out a soft gasp, your eyes widening in both surprise and desire as you took in the sight of him. His swollen tip, coated in glistening precum, called out to you and you couldn't resist. Your mouth watered with anticipation as you enveloped his length with your lips, savoring the velvety texture against your tongue. He groaned and grasped tightly onto your hair as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, never taking his piercing gaze off of yours.

You moaned as his hand guided your movements, taking him in deeper and savoring the feeling of being completely filled by him. The sound of your moans vibrating around him was like a symphony to his ears until he suddenly let go, creating a soft popping noise as your lips released his member.

"Damn, Y/N," he gasped. "If you keep that up, I won't be able to return the favor." He laughed hoarsely, that toothy grin of his shining in the dim light before his expression turned dark. "Lie back, baby." The intense heat between your legs threatened to consume you at his words, and you couldn't help but melt at the way the word ‘baby’ rolled off his tongue.

You followed his instructions, shifting towards the head of the bed and easing yourself onto the soft pillows. He moved over you, taking in the sight of your body spread out beneath him, his arousal pressing against your thigh through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

His lips trailed down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers across your skin as he pressed himself against your thigh. You let out a gasp as he tugged at the neckline of your singlet, exposing one of your erect nipples. His tongue darted out to flick at the sensitive peak before taking it into his mouth, gently sucking and nibbling.

"Boyd…" you moaned, overwhelmed. "please, more."

Sitting up on his knees between your open legs, Boyd’s fingers gripped the waistline of your shorts, slowly pulling them down. Your heart raced as you felt the cool air against your bare skin. He tossed you shorts aside, eyes filled with desire, as he took in the sight of your glistening cunt.

You clenched your hands in the sheets, your breath hitched as you eagerly awaited his next move. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Boyd leaned in closer, his face just above your quivering core. You felt his breath against your most sensitive spot, making you squirm. His finger traced your outer lips, teasing the entrance of your heat.

And then, finally, he slipped a finger inside, pushing gently against your tight walls. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body that left you gasping for breath.

"Fuck, Y/N," His voice a mix of lust and awe. "You're so tight."

His fingers delved deeper into your core, twisting and curling to ignite a firestorm of sensations that sent shockwaves through your entire body. Your hips eagerly moved in rhythm with his movements, yearning for the release that felt so tantalizingly close.

As he worked his fingers, his lips met yours in a fiery kiss. His tongue matched the rhythm of his skilled digits inside of you.

Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more pleasure, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you longing for more.

He spat into his hand and slicked it over his pulsing member, preparing himself for you.

Your heart raced as he slowly positioned himself at your entrance, pausing to meet your eyes.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your body begging for the connection that was moments away. And then, with a single, powerful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely.

A gasp escaped your lips, and a wave of pleasure washed over you as you held onto him tightly. Your inner muscles contracted around his length, drawing him in deeper.

Boyd let out a loud grunt, his teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as he adjusted to the tightness of your walls. His hands fisted the sheet on either side of your head as he paused for a moment, collecting himself.

Slowly, he began to move, setting a rhythm that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through both of you. You met his thrusts eagerly, your hips moving in tandem with his.

Your breaths became heavier, your bodies glistening with perspiration as the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the occasional curse from Boyd.

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging deeply into his skin as you pulled him closer. The friction was exquisite, and you could feel the aching need building within you.

Boyd's eyes were locked onto yours, his face a mask of raw emotion. He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a fervent kiss as he thrust deeper. You moaned into his mouth, your body responding to his every move.

Your climax was building, the pressure growing with each thrust. You could feel it, the tightening coil of pleasure, threatening to unravel. You dug your nails into his back, arching your hips to meet his. The sensation was too much, and you cried out as you peaked, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

Boyd watched you in awe as he continued to thrust into you. The sight of you in the throes of orgasm was more than he could take, and he quickly joined you, his body shuddering as he released deep within you, ropes of hot cum painting your walls white.

Your legs shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm as you melted into the bed. Boyd's weight rested on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he caught his breath.

You ran your hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. "That was…" you began, the words barely escaping your lips.

“Somethin’.” Boyd finished your sentence, his words muffled against your skin when a knock at the door made you both jump.

Boyd quickly rolled off you, grabbing the towel from the floor and wrapping it around his waist. You straightened yourself on the bed, pulling the sheets around you, heart still pounding.

Dear god, you'd forgotten all about your sister downstairs!

Boyd cracked open the door just enough to peek through, and Ava's voice floated in, laced with a hint of amusement. "Y'all planning on making that racket all night? Some of us have a busy day tomorrow," she teased, her tone light but carrying a knowing edge.

A sheepish grin spread across Boyd’s features. "Sorry, Ava," he called back through the slightly ajar door, his voice a mix of embarrassment and mirth. "We'll keep it down."

"Better," Ava replied, her voice now softened with laughter. "Just remember, thin walls in this old house."

[beanghostprincess]

Silly vampire buggy being so very normal about it while the rest are absolutely FERAL is so funny.

Buggy, before Roger passed, still on the Oro: hmm, I'm kinda thirsty-

Shanks, ripping his already open shirt further off: Oh Dear, Oh My Look At ALL THIS So Very BITEABLE SKIN, Sure Hope There's No VAMPIRES Thirsting Near Me, Wink Wink!!!!

Buggy: I bet Gabban still has some juice boxes. I hope he has that guava one. I'll be right back!

Shanks, half naked and drooping: 🥺😟😥😫

<><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: I read this interesting novel yesterday which gave me much to ponder.

Buggy: oh? Awesome! Which was it?

Mihawk, side-eying Buggy pointedly: it was a supernatural romance between a human and vampire. It was rather explicit and had many scenes which piqued my interest.

Buggy, absolutely Not Getting It: oh man. I usually hate those. It's a toss up between bad writing or the vampire is always a top. Like? Give me gay bottom vampires too, we deserve to be recognized!! Oh, Hawky, can you hand me my sunscreen?

Mihawk: ........... here.

Buggy: thanks, love!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile: hey you drink blood.

Buggy, sipping A+ out of a care bear cup: yeah?

Croc: does it work on Logia users? Or would your fangs need Haki to pierce us?

Buggy: hm. Good question? I dunno, actually!

Crocodile: seems this could be a learning experience. Would be a shame to not experiment. I know how much you like your science.

Buggy: I do like science. Yeah. Yeah. You're right! I SHOULD experiment on that!!

Croc, unbuttoning his shirt, tugging down his cravat: uh huh, well, I suppose we ought to get to it- where are you going

Buggy: to my workshop! Science waits for no man!!! Nor clown, in my case. Man clown? Vampire? Who knows. Wait. Am I a man...? Hm, what is the gender today... wait, have I eaten at all? I don't remember. Anyway, I need to grab my suit, I'm low on sunscreen again. Oh, remind me to add that to the next shipment request. Oh, I should also grab a bloody mary!! That sounds great! Okay. Bye bye!!

Croc, halfway undressed, watching Buggy run outside, start swearing bc he didn't pull up his hood and is cursing the light, before tripping flat onto his face: ............. shit.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy rarely pushes the limits of his abilities BECAUSE of the vampirism. If he uses his DF more than usual, it makes him hungrier. And once he hits a certain point, he begins to lose his already loosey-goosey sense of humanity. It scares him to be so cold and uninterested, especially since he always feels things turned up to eleven. When his hits that point, EVERYTHING turns off. At best, he'll be mildly annoyed, angry, amused - but it's like being in a glass bowl, watching things happen from the outside. It terrifies him.

His partners...? Well. It does things to them too, but terror isn't exactly the dominating feeling... 👀

((Also, the romanticism of blood. Of life energy. Of an exchange of that out of love. Of giving parts of yourself to sustain and satiate another. Carrying pieces of someone else in your body to propagate your own life. Of giving and taking consensually the liquid which carries your time. The inherent provocative nature of taking someone else's essence into yourself with full permission and full understanding because they receive so much from you in turn that it is simple, easy, logical to consent to this.))

Vampires 🥰

THE FIRST ONE IS SO REAL EFJKBWEJKBWJEKBF Shanks does that constantly he's DYING for Buggy to bite him and the clown won't even notice he's trying so much. It's ridiculous. Shanks and his failguy moment simping for a vampire that doesn't want his blood.

Mihawk and Crocodile trying to flirt and failing miserably because Buggy is always oblivious to what they do is amazing and no matter the AU it's always like this. I adore. They just want their vampire boyfriend to bite them :(( Failguys.

The last thing you said is so real. Vampires can be something so romantic and I think usually books/TV shows/Media in general don't focus on the important stuff. I want to see teen!Shuggy with Buggy and Shanks traveling together right after the crew disbands (before Roger's death) and Buggy not having access to other types of blood. So Shanks offers him his blood and they have like-- This moment of realization of how intimate it is. And Buggy will forever remember what it felt like to feel Shanks' embrace while sucking his blood without any complaints. And!! Both Mihawk and Crocodile wanting to do the same but it's definitely just for the horny, they don't expect it to be so passionate and intimate, and romantic.

Also, I agree with Buggy, the vampire should be the bottom. Really necessary for this situation.

[akisunlovesnalu]

Every Witch Way

A fic that I wrote inspired by this photo. Originally I wanted it to become a detective fic but my brain spiraled and I ended up with this. It became an adventure mystery story and of course, the government hates them :) I liked the idea of them traveling through the desert and I'm not too sure where the guild fit in this but just know that all Magicians (Witches) are in hiding because society believes they are evil. Most normal people do not have magic so someone spread a theory that the only reason witches have magic is because of human sacrifices etc. It's important to note that witches want to keep their powers under wraps or else they will get reported to the authorities and sent to the hier-ups in the capital. Nobody knows what happens to the witches who are caught but they don't want to find out.

That might be some unnecessary background information so skip over that if you wish and enjoy!

When Lucy finds herself kidnapped by a ruthless group of bandits, the last thing she expects is to be saved by a witch with Pink hair and his talking blue cat. And she most certainly didn't expect to become their good friend and travel companion. Who knew evil sorcerers and government conspiracies can lead to unexpected friendships.

As the blond girl dragged herself, hands tied together in front of her, and sand covered bare feet weakly trailing after her, she realized how fast camels might actually be. You see, in all of the stories she had read so far, none of them did the four legged beast's speed any justice. They never quite described how hard it was to keep up with them. It was always “The creature was big” or “The creature was furry” but never “When kidnapped by a group of bandits, tied to and forced to stumble behind a literal camel, it may be hard to keep up.”

See if any of the books had written that in, maybe Lucy Hearfillia might be faring better in her situation. But alas, she was not.

“Stop lagging behind, blondie!” One of the men snarled, pulling on the rope to further demonstrate his annoyance. Lucy stumbled forward, struggling to stay upright. She hung her head low, very aware of the menacingly bright sun and quietly sighed.

Oh what she would do to somehow get out of this unfortunate turn of events.

She has probably been traveling together with these no good thieves for about 3 hours. After being abducted from the only good town in this godforsaken desert, the men forced her to follow them, ignoring her cries of where she was and demands to let her go. She gave up eventually of course. Not even her vocal cords could handle the immense heat that came with the dry deserted area.

“Hey boss.” The big one said, glancing over at her with furrowed brows. He had been the one to capture her in the first place. Of course Lucy could have easily taken him on but… a moment's hesitation was all they needed to successfully tie her up and steal her ring of keys. Aquarius was going to kill her!

 “Not that I really want to, but... Should we give the chick some water?” 

The man in front of the big one grunted, his blueish hair blowing with the small breeze and clearly showing off his strange X-like tattoo. Lucy watched on with little interest as a bead of sweat traveled down his forehead.

“I wouldn’t bother.” He scoffed. “Every time we’ve tried, she just spits it back up. Plus, earlier she tried to bite off Javier’s finger, do you really want to risk it?” He raised an eyebrow.

The man in question made a whining noise, clutching his injured hand to his chest and glaring at their prisoner with watery eyes. He mockingly raised the water bottle to his mouth, chugging it in an attempt to get a rise out of her. Lucy rolled her eyes, instead looking back down at the smooth sand beneath her feet.

The big one made a noise of understanding. “Even after we lied about it not being drugged too-”

Javier spit up the water that he was previously chugging, shakily putting the top back on and storing it back inside of the camel's holding bag.

“You idiot!” ‘Boss’ hissed, turning a piercing glare unto the man beside him. “She still didn’t know-” He paused, glancing over at their very interested prisoner and forced himself to  take a deep breath. “You know what, it doesn't matter, she'll be fine.”

“But, Bora-”

“She’ll be fine!” The man who Lucy now knew as Bora raised a fist threateningly. He smirked in sick pleasure as his henchmen coward away. Before she even had time to pull a face of disgust, he turned to Lucy, eyeing her hungrily. “Now, let's get a move on. The employer is expecting us by sundown and I'd rather not have the sun beating down on me any longer than necessary.”

The rest of his men tiredly murmured in agreement, picking up the pace and forcing the blond girl to — once again —trudge through the slippery sand. She hissed as her feet pricked on some sort of stick-like plant. Oh Mavis if she could just reach into the pouch hanging off of Bora’s belt-

“I don’t see the issue, it’s not even that hot.” A new voice said, startling the crew of 14 bandits plus Lucy herself. Her head snapped up for the first time in a while. Ignoring the ache in her neck, the girl rapidly searched the area until settling upon a man with… pink hair. 

He didn’t look too shocked to see a kidnapped girl tied to a Camel. Nor did he bat an eye at the blue cat that sat on his head, lazily playing with the goggles that held his hair out of his face (Did she mention that it was pink!?). And his attire looked so incredibly… bold that Lucy was sure she would faint. Seriously, who was stupid enough to travel through the desert in a black long sleeve shirt, a tan vest and a literal scarf. It was like the guy was begging to get a heat stroke.

She had immediately decided that whoever this man was, he was insane.

“Now.” He grinned, getting into a fighting stance. “What was it you said about an employer?”

Oh look now he wanted to fight off an entire group of bandits. Lucy scoffed. Definitely insane.

Where did he even come from?

Bora snarled, holding up a hand and signaling his guys to pounce on the man wearing freaking cargo pants. Once again, the pink haired freak didn’t even flinch. He stayed rooted to his spot, grinning a wide smile and daring one of them to come at him.

They did, of course, and to Lucy’s surprise were blasted back by a large ring of— 

“Fire!”

Well that certainly explains a lot.

Even after that big scare, the men were back on “Mr. cargo pants” as soon as Bora sent each and every one of them a snarl. The blond snorted as soon enough, all 14 men were on the floor, some of them even halfway in the sand and halfway not.

Bora’s horrified face soon turned back into a scowl as he fully processed Lucy’s teasing. He jumped off of the Camel, ignoring a curious looking “Mr. cargo pants” and stomping over to her. 

“Something Funny?” He said.

“Yeah, actually.” She chuckled some more, tugging on the rope in silent frustration. “Looks like you're about to get your ass handed to you.”

Bora growled, raising his hand in an attempt to threaten her. Lucy eye’d it wearily, but made no attempt to move out of its path. To her pleasure that seemed to aggravate the man even more.

“I’ll show you!” He cried and Lucy's breath hitched as he brought his hand down to strike her across the face… 

The sound of skin hitting skin somehow echoed throughout the desert and Lucy was sure her face was stinging a bright red…

Except it wasn’t… to be honest she felt no pain. Almost as if she hadn’t been hit at all… Cracking her eyes open she realized that a figure stood in front of her, effectively blocking both the sun and her view of Bora. At this, the girl was finally able to piece together what happened.

Bora had aimed for her face, only for his wrist to be caught by “Mr. cargo pants” himself. 

What an interesting turn of events indeed. 

Lucy was quite surprised by how calm she was in this type of situation. No other girl would be able to keep a straight face as they were surrounded in an alleyway, tied up, and forced onto a camel, only to be saved by a strange man (who was definitely insane) that kicked ass and breathed fire. Though if anything she’d have to blame it on experience.

The silence was interrupted by a snarl, one almost inhuman. Bora shrieked, snatching his hand away and forcibly putting a distance between him and this insane man.

“H-how dare you!” Bora shrieked, reaching into his belt and pulling out a knife. Lucy’s eyes flashed onto the leather pouch before giving the man a hard glare.

“You’re one of those demons aren't you!” His voice shook but was filled with so much venom. “The horrible bastards that turn to rituals and blood sacrifices in favor of magical powers!?”

Mr. Cargo pants made no attempt to move, only stared Bora straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression. 

“So what if I am?” He answered.

Lucy felt her lips turn into a frown.

“Then you’re worse than me!” The man laughed maniacally, waving his knife around as he spoke. “Why bother saving this chick with magic earned by bloodlust? Wait…” He gasped dramatically looking at Lucy and then back at Mr. Cargo pants. 

“Oh…” he cackled this time, using a shaky hand to clutch his side. “You probably need her right? For another sacrifice?”

As he continued with his dumb speach Lucy felt her patience slipping. She bit her lip, tugging on the rope once again with no success. She growled, now desperate enough to be pulling against the weight of a freaking Camel.

“Let’s make a deal, hm?” Bora held the knife to his mouth in thought. “I’ll let you take her for just a bit of cash. I’m sure you and your demon friends would love such delicate, pure hearted prey right? Blah Blah Blah Blah-”

Lucy tuned him out and her pink-haired savior still made no move to attack, only balling his fists and taking deep breaths. She understood… the need to prove him wrong… to just shut him up! Which was what she was planning on doing! As soon as she got rid of this stupid rope-

Her savior lunged, slapping the knife out of the bandit's hand and catching him by the neck so quickly that Lucy had to blink, just to make sure she had actually witnessed that.

Bora struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm as he gasped for breath. “Y-you…” He coughed. “You monster!”

The pink haired boy dropped him, cracking his knuckles as Bora attempted to crawl away.

“Hit me with your best shot!” He screeched. “Monster!” 

And that’s when Lucy’s attention was directed towards a flying blue blob. It took her a minute to realize that the blue blob was the cat previously perched atop her savior's head. She couldn’t help the small shriek that erupted from her throat as the cat landed directly in front of her, a look of pride overtaking its face.

“Hold on!” It cried, using its claws to slowly cut away at the thick rope. Lucy stood stock still, mouth wide as she watched a cat! a talking cat, free her from her ‘Camel Prison’... 

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder. 

She felt the rope loosen up and took that moment to slip her hands free.

She rubbed her wrists, absentmindedly thanking the (blue, flying, taking-) cat and zoning back in on the fight. Well… what she thought would be a fight. Instead, Lucy saw Mr. Cargo Pants kneeling by a tied up and unconscious Bora, checking his pulse with a bored look in his eyes.

The girl wanted to laugh at how quickly that ‘battle’ had ended. In fact, she did laugh! How could she not? Here was Bora, big bandit leader with unquestionable power over his 14 lakey’s, beaten black and blue after a fight that had barely even lasted a minute.

Pathetic.

Lucy was almost ashamed to have put her morals over her own safety. Taking on this guy would have been a sinch, the rest would have probably run away with their tails between their legs. 

The girl released a breath, finally finished with her laughing fit. She wiped a tear from beneath her eye, grinning wide at her two saviors.

“You’ve got guts!” The cat… the blue, flying, talking cat.. Spoke. It spoke… Lucy felt her face twist in confusion.

“Thank you…?”

Mr. Cargo pants finished tying up the rest of the men and strode over to them, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave her a somewhat proud look. “Happy’s right y’know. I’ve never seen another girl in your situation stand up to their captor…” He paused before quietly adding. “Well maybe Erza but I doubt she’d get captured in the first place…”

“Happy’s?” Lucy questioned, raising her brow. “What do you mean?”

“That’s Happy.” He stated matter factly, pointing over to the flying cat- Holy Mavis, this would take some getting used to. It waved. Lucy numbly waved back.

Mr. Cargo Pants held out his hand in greeting. “And I’m Natsu!” Oh well that’s good, he’s got a name. Mr. Cargo Pants was starting to seem a bit bland based on his earlier performance. Maybe she’d just call him Fire Freak, pyromaniac for short?

“Hey Natsu.” The girl smiled kindly, getting over her initial shock and shaking his hand. He held onto her hand for longer than necessary, his grip strong. The pink-haired traveler held her gaze, dark onyx eyes practically burning into her soul. His calloused hand gave her own one last squeeze before he let go, looking around as if nothing just happened.

“What're you doing this far out in the desert anyways?”

Lucy blinked, her brain taking a minute to compute after his strange display of… comradery? “I was… Traveling.” She admitted.

“With them?” Natsu and Happy blinked, looking back at the pile of motionless body’s. Finally the boy turned back to her, shaking his head and clicking his teeth. “Man, you need to get yourself some better travel companions.”

“N-no!” She barked. “I was kidnapped while traveling! Are you an idiot!”

“Well why didn’t you just say so?”

Lucy ground her teeth in frustration. One more word out of this man’s mouth and she’d be wanted for murder. She rolled her eyes. What a scatter brain.

“Well, thank you for saving me.” She settled with, surveying the litter of body’s decorating the wide desert floor. “Can I ask you to direct me towards the closest town?”

Natsu nodded his head, pointing in a direction. “We’re actually headed to one right now. Care to join?”

“... Sure!” Lucy agreed after a bit of hesitation. She turned around and untied her very important pouch from her precious Camel Captor. 

“Thanks for keeping these safe, I guess.” She said to it. The camel snorted out a noise of disinterest as Lucy stroked it’s neck. 

Natsu let out a snort, turning away and whistling casually as Lucy sent him a hard glare. She may have been forcefully tied to and painfully dragged across the desert by this Camel, but still, she felt a sense of comradery between them. She was going to miss him…

As Lucy turned to leave, the camel let out a large glob of spit, barely missing her head. The girl shrieked and ran to catch up to a curious Natsu.

She takes it back. That damn animal won't be missed. Not one bit.

[masterwords]

even a fool

Summary: The Bureau fired Derek after the whole Doyle and Emily fiasco. Now he has to figure out what the hell he's going to do with his life.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan (break up -> make up)

Words: 6.1k

Notes: The first of many prompts written for @tobias-hankel and their amazing Pre-Whumptober Challenge. The prompt for this one was job loss/fired + derek morgan, and admittedly I took it a little further than that but also it's not SUPER whumpy it's just pure angst and feels with a happy ending. I'll try to whump harder next time. This is a lot of angst with a soft ending.

........................................................................................................................

“Fired? You’re canning me?” Derek asked, staring Strauss down like she’d suddenly grown a second head. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. In all his life, he could have imagined plenty of ways his life would go, plenty of shitstorms he would have to weather but never once did he imagine he would be fired. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m sorry Agent Morgan. I did what I could, but the committee demanded that someone be held accountable. People died as a result of a rogue mission for revenge. They felt that Agent Hotchner’s service overseas was sufficient to save his job, so it came down to you and Ms. Garcia.”

“And they decided…”

“You were the one that made the call, Derek. This was your team in Aaron’s absence. A team leader has to take responsibility when things go wrong, and things did go very very wrong. Ms. Garcia was acting on your orders.”

“I didn’t give anyone orders. I did it on my own and I told her she never had to be part of it. I’ll take the blame, but you gotta know I never made anyone do anything.”

“You have to understand…”

“I got it. I gave my life to this place and for what, huh? I get to be a scapegoat so those useless fucks can look like they actually did something.”

The look on Strauss’ face was priceless. Part amused by his candor, and part ashamed that she’d ever bought into the system so hard. Watching the way this process played out had her reconsidering a lot of things in her life, and siren song of that bottle calling her name from the top drawer of her desk had never been quite so loud. Firing a man who didn’t deserve to be fired had to be a new low, even for some of the low, terrible shit she’d done in her life.

And the only thing she could offer him was useless platitudes.

“If you need a personal recommendation...if I can be of any help at all…”

“Yeah. Thanks a lot. Who else knows?”

“You’re the only one.”

“You didn’t even tell Hotch?” He could scarcely believe that she hadn’t told him before she fired a member of his team, before she fired his right hand man.

She just scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically, as if he should already know the answer to that question. That’s a pile of steaming shit she won’t be stepping in any time soon, at least not sober. He appreciated that about her at least, she wasn’t about to stand on formality at a time like this. “No. That’s your job.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Some Serious BS: Part 2.

Ahhh...Home sweet home...

Hmm...

*After splitting off from the rest of Zetsubou and getting a long train back to the main city, Matta and Tsutsuji finally return to their old trailer. Tsutsuji is quick to flop on the sofa lazily.

Well, mission accomplished. Zetsubou have been set back, and introductions went pretty well.

Are you sure it was wise for you to introduce yourself to them this early in the game? Now Enoshima and the others know that I'm collaborating with someone.

They might use you against me, in the right circumstance.

Gonna have to catch me first. Besides, it's best to put our cards on the table for now so that they continue to trust you. And it's not like they could kill you, even if they get all their assets back.

...Kuripa Kurafto is still alive I take it?

As you requested.

Good. Did my gambit work?

That remains to be seen. Now that he's had a chance to kill me once, perhaps he can finally focus on the people who have died up until now, and question what he will do for his future. Though I can't guarantee he won't regress when he sees me again.

Best to lie low for a while until we start seeing more developments.

Good idea. In the meantime, I think I'll go over some more of those case files you leant me. The one's you brought up after the lab incident.

Haven't you already read that several times now?

Yeah, but I want to make sure I understand everything. You don't always give me all the information I need Matta, so I need to memorize it when I can and piece things together.

You know I do it for a reason. Everything happens at its own time, and moves at its own pace.

I took a bit of a risk with that gambit of yours. But I think its working out.

Trust me...I know Kuripa Kurafto better than you ever could. I have his entire history documented in this little library I call a brain.

*Tsutsuji strides past him.

Speaking of which, I should probably go clean the chamber. You left quite a mess when you woke up earlier.

Oh, I'll help you.

Really? Thanks.

*Matta follows Tsutsuji inside their trailers cramped bathroom...

Ready?

...

*As Matta nods, Tsutsuji takes the handle of the toilet and pushes it up instead of down. When she does, the floor beneath them starts to descend on a hidden elevator, deep into the ground...

Did I ever mention that you guys from the future are so extra?

What do you mean?

When I was a kid, there were spy movies I watched that did stuff like this. I always thought to myself "this can't ever be real," but you guys made stuff like this happen. Secret tunnels and bases under bathroom stalls.

And why? For any reason other than it looks cool? That its well hidden and practical? You could have just had a hidden stairwell at the back of a wall, but no, whole ass elevator system.

All that's telling me is that you were a rather pessimistic child, Tsutsuji.

Heh...Suppose I was. But I didn't really have a lot to be happy about.

I've told you this before, but when I was really young, I got exposed too early to how full of Despair this world is. Take Junko out of the picture, and there's still a lot to be miserable about.

Part of me still thinks this world is irredeemable, but if I hadn't met a certain someone, I wouldn't be fighting for a better future here with you.

*The elevator comes to a stop.

[cherryblossomshadow]

https://youtu.be/7oFu2pNnRIc

Where did you think Top Cop Harris come from

Hey, I'm not the most knowledgeable on this subject, but yes, I have heard that Kamala called herself Top Cop while she was District Attorney.

The only two posts on my blog that address this have imo pretty nuanced takes on this, which boil down to:

Kamala is not perfect, but we can't wait for a perfect candidate to magically appear

Therefore, you can absolutely criticize her for things she did, things she contributed to, things that happened on her watch

But you should criticize her for what really happened. People may not know that she wasn't a uniformed officer who physically arrested people. She got into law to protect women and children from abuse

Yes, she was upholding a corrupt and racist system. But criticize her for that. Not for lies

We can talk about the nuances of what she WAS, but we first have to correct the mistaken impression of what she WASNT

.

Additionally, I think it should be allowed to feel hope for a candidate that isn't as bad as you thought. It's allowed to correct some misinformation around you

I'm not looking at this election like she's some savior who will fix the world just bc she's not really a cop. I'm hoping that ppl won't write her off based on inaccurate information, only accurate information. Bc the only other alternative is That Guy

.

Again, I'm not an expert on this. But the takes that I elevate aren't only the ones that I like or agree with; they're the takes that I think make a good point or are worth chewing on.

Some greatest hits from this post:

Be careful what you read, always be critical of how facts are presented to you, and don't be afraid to admit when you're wrong.

There's no such thing as a good cop, but there do exist naive cops with good intentions who think they can change the system from within

The real nuance is that the position of "top cop" or whatever can't be left empty. When you're filling out the ballot and get to sheriffs and prosecutors, every candidate is an acab. There are no right choices simply by what the nature of the job is. But there are candidates who will attempt that incremental change, and ones who can make things much worse.

She gets my vote at least, she's definitely better than trump or biden, but I'm still hesitant to give my absolute full support.

And from this post:

It didn’t hit me until recently that people genuinely think Kamala Harris was a police officer because of all the people who call her a cop online.

We can discuss how related that is to police work and how tied she is to the carceral system etc etc (but for fairness would have to include her record of pushing for lowering incarceration rates through programs helping former prisoners + her office refusing to jail folks for low level weed offense). But she was never a police officer. 

I think it’s important to note she learned and grew over time, as well.

What drives me crazy about the prosecutor/district attorney = cop common line of leftist thinking is that. People always talk about when a progressive DA is appointed, and how important that is, because the DA literally can just decide not to prosecute certain offenses.

I’d also like to add that if you look at her record in a timeline she has gotten progressively more liberal!

#some ppl will call it pandering but uhhhh we literally want our politicians to listen to our concerns and change their policies based on it

We vote for the weakest adversary. The weakest adversary is always the politician who mostly agrees with you but got where they are by compromising with an unjust system. Elect that person and mush their face in the compromises they’ve made and we can undo the fucked up laws and practices !!!! Or you can let someone who can never be convinced because they hold opposite views on criminalization, incarceration, police brutality and immunity, etc. If you don’t understand or care that voting works this way, where’s your pipe bombs and guerilla fighter cells? Cause that or complacency with fascist takeover is all you’re eating 

Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good.

#youre not gonna budge trump #but if youre not happy with kamala #nudge her left! #dont let perfect be the enemy of good #or progress #we're still on the wrong side of the line #but how are we going to get to the right side without taking a single step?

[adzeisval]

Flare

Izzy's stomach issues flare up, warning for vomiting. Also on AO3.

Izzy had dealt with stomach issues his whole life and yet sometimes it still made him want to cry. Out at sea there were times when it was a choice between eating something that might make him sick or not eating at all which would likely make him sick anyway. 

They were running low on food; they had gotten a bit stuck in the doldrums. Izzy didn’t think he could or should go without food for two days. So he had eaten some questionable food and hoped for the best. 

Izzy was sitting listening to Stede read the crew a story when he felt his stomach cramp and knew what would happen next. Having to leave to puke was bad enough but he heard several members of the crew snicker and thought he heard at least one whisper of Izzy the Spewer. 

Izzy puked over the edge of the ship until he started to dry heave then he laid down on his side and brought his knees to his chest. He was trembling slightly, mostly because he felt like shit but also because he was trying not to cry. 

Just a month ago Lucius had gotten sick from something he ate. Izzy had stayed with him through the night and helped him through what he knew to be a horrible and sometimes scary situation. He’d given Lucius three days of light duty until he had felt better. Everyone had been kind and helpful toward Lucius knowing he’d been ill. 

Izzy didn’t understand why the crew was laughing at him for the same thing. Oh he knew he could still be a hard ass when assigning tasks and such but that didn’t give them the right to make fun of him for something horrible that he couldn’t help.

Izzy’s stomach clenched and he dry heaved several times, leaving him shaking and exhausted. 

“I told them to not call you that anymore.” 

Izzy looked up as Lucius sat down beside him. His first instinct was to tell Lucius to fuck off and leave him alone but instead something broke inside his mind and he started to cry. 

“Oh fuck,” Lucius said. 

“You…can go,” Izzy said, giving the man an out so he didn’t have to deal with Izzy breaking down. 

“I’m not going to leave you Izzy. I’ll watch you so you don’t have to tie yourself to the ship so you don’t fall off. I see the rope over there.” 

Izzy couldn’t answer as another bout of dry heaves hit him and left him panting and shaky. 

“I talked with the rest of the crew and told them to stop using that nickname. It’s really fucked up. And I told the Captains that they should give you a day off.” 

“I can still work,” Izzy said. 

“Maybe. But you shouldn’t have to,” Lucius said. 

“Thank you,” Izzy said. 

It was hard to remember that things were different now. That he didn’t have to act tough all the time or hide when he was hurt or not feeling well. He wasn’t sure what to expect the next day but…well maybe he could take the morning off. 

Izzy dry heaved and tried to rest. He fell asleep a few times and every time he woke Lucius was still there. It was nice to know that someone cared, that someone wanted to make sure the he was alright. 

Izzy woke just before dawn and saw that Lucius was still there, though sometime during the night he had fallen asleep. Izzy shifted and sat up slowly. His stomach felt a little sore and he was horribly thirsty. 

“Thirsty Iz?” 

He jumped a little and looked around a little more. Oh. He wasn’t where he had fallen asleep last. Someone had picked him up and moved him to where the rest of the crew was sleeping but still close enough to the edge of the ship in case he had to puke or dry heave. 

“Alright Iz?” Ed asked again. 

“Yeah. Sorry. I am thirsty.” 

Edward gave him some water. Izzy slowly sipped and was glad when he didn’t immediately puke it back up. He wasn’t sure what else he would be able to eat with what little they had left but he supposed he could try something. 

“I want you to take it easy today Izzy,” Ed said, “I’m sorry I never gave you time off for this before. I just…” 

“I know.  Things were different,” Izzy said. He wondered if Lucius had told Edward about Izzy crying or if it was easy to see on his face; he didn’t exactly have time to clean his face the prior night. 

“Stede and Roach are working on heating up some water so you can take a bath,” Ed said. 

“I don’t…That would be nice,” Izzy said. He might not need it but it did sound rather nice. Izzy’s legs felt shaky as he got up but he walked to the tub by himself and saw Stede and Roach pouring in the last buckets of warm water. 

“Just in time!” Stede said. 

“Thank you,” Izzy said. 

“I’m making you a simple breakfast, it’s not much but it’ll be something” Roach said and Izzy thanked him. 

When he was alone he eased himself into the warm water and sighed. Fuck. That felt good. He had never imagined that he would have the ability to take a bath when he felt sick and have a crew that wanted to do nice things for him. He imagined this was the crew’s way of apologizing to him. Maybe. Or it was at least something nice. 

Izzy stayed in the tub until the water got cold and he felt better. He felt clean which was odd considering how he had spent his night. 

Roach had made a sort of bread pudding and some fruit that Izzy could eat. It wasn’t much, as he had said, but it was something and it was good and it settled well. 

“We’re sorry Izzy,” Fang said as the crew started to file in for breakfast.

“It wasn’t nice,” Pete said. 

“Thanks,” Izzy said. 

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Tracking down the “High Stakes Narrative” feature of conflict-filled 3-act.

This turned out to be trickier than I thought. I thought I would outline why.

What I forgot about when I was listening to “You’re Wrong About” podcast was how paranoid people became in the 1970′s. There was the push towards sellable domesticity, like Martha Stewart, there was the whole, “Satanic Panic”. And there was a F3AR of pornography, centered around Deep Throat. And there was the anti-drug campaigns at the same time.

Given the atmosphere after the 1960′s, to push back specifically from the same adults on the 1960′s, this is my best guess for when the high stakes comes in. You see, Syd Field didn’t put in a high stakes narrative because his model for his story structure is flat. It’s a flat line. The peaks and mountains is Kenneth Rowe stealing from two other people from them and not giving them credit.

So it’s a question of who bred the two models together and didn’t give the proper credit? It has to be in the 1980′s where the attributions went sideways.

I’ve found a piece to suggest that: Our next figure is https://www.theatredatabase.com/20th_century/bertolt_brecht_001.html

Bertolt Brecht probably passed everyone’s notice within his lifetime, but his son was a theater critic in the US. Brecht was a poet, critic, and author of novels, so you can see it traveled. He was also against what he saw as Aristolean theater. 

Andrew Lloyd Webber, however, from the UK was a big fan of Brecht’s work and used it to structure his musicals. As outlined by the Youtube Channel “Waiting in the Wings” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=or51TrNMV4w

12:21-12:51

Brecht argued for a character low--the worst thing that could happen to the character happens to them. I should note in the 2000′s this lost favor. But from what I’ve read, the “High stakes” coining doesn’t come from Brecht, but it is one more puzzle piece on the way to Brecht. And this only became popular in the 1980′s after importation and maybe with the help of his son.

To me, that’s wild.

So if you’re following along, Freytag creates his pyramid with the story driver being emotion-->1921, Percy Lubbock argues for conflict narrative (and also Death of the Author)-->Kenneth Rowe plagiarizes works (Selden Lincoln Whitcomb and Joseph Joseph Berg Esenwein) that go against Percy Lubbock’s writings to argue in favor of Percy Lubbock to put down Gertrude Stein-->Lajos Egri, who refuted Rowe’s understanding of Shakespeare in the equivalent of a subtweet and added character analysis by psychology in there-->This leads to Syd Field, who creates the three-act, but there is no mention of high stakes narrative with the worst thing ever happening to the character in his work or the inciting incident.-->The coming of French Critics in the 1970′s-1980′s, Roland Barthes, Vladimir Propp, Joseph Campbell, and Northrop Frye. Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida.--> Bertolt Brecht then got folded in, which I kind of think is an irony, since he hated Aristotle, but then all of this is attributed later to Aristotle. TT 

Don’t you feel bad yet? Some people who don’t want to be here, are folded to be here Whitcomb, especially. I rather liked his nuanced look at novels, and out of everyone mentioned I kinda like him the most.

So we’re missing two figures: High Stakes Narrative (likely white male, considering how thing are going.) and the “inciting incident” coining. (I read the French philosophers and they aren’t it.) And Syd Field isn’t our person. The dregs of it are around, but not named. I do think it’s likely either Brecht (Whom I haven’t gotten to read in full yet) or some other script maker.

Oh and I found out that Ben Jonson likely compiled the First Folio for William Shakespeare. He makes the dedication in the front of the Folio for him. He’s also a likely candidate (no, not to be William Shakespeare), but to have imposed the act structure on the plays. The circumstantial evidence is there. He had a poor understanding of Latin and Greek languages, loved the classics, translated them POORLY (Most famously Horace, but also other Greek plays.) and had a HUGE ego. I mean the man wrote a play that got him jailed and didn’t care and still continued to write raunchy plays. He insisted that his name be spelled Ben Jonson without the H in his lifetime to be pedantic, even though his father spelled it with the h. The man had ego to spare. And he made the dedication in the front of the Folio. Since he loved Greek plays and the classics, I think he’s likely the one that reformatted Shakespeare’s plays to the Five Act structure, which only became popular after Shakespeare’s death. (If we’re establishing, from a bad translation of Aelius Donatus.) I think we need to put him in consideration for structuring the plays like that. And yes, I do have the counter story of what was happening with women and minorities during the same time period with story structure. Mostly they followed Virginia Woolf’s example with saying it can’t be described and might be individual.

[gweathney-propaganda]

why i love The Electro Suite by Hans Zimmer

okay guys, my first big rant! warning though, this will be very long, i'm not the best at explaining things, musically, and i will be veryyyy silly (kinda inspired by this video, go check it out)

I'm going to format this as if you were listening to the song, so bear with me. I highly recommend listening to the song while reading this too, you can find it here.

The song starts out pretty simple, a quiet but cheerful melody, with some trumpets as backing. But, there's something off. The appearance of voices. They're quiet, but noticeable, like a nagging voice in your head. It gives off the vibe of a person that is very kind and generous to others, but often lacks to take care of themselves, with very low self esteem. They often feel worthless compared to others, the voices in their head talking down to them, calling them 'weak' and 'worthless' (I will get into the actual lyrics later on, don't worry).

They most likely aren't recognized for their feats by their peers, which only makes their self-esteem and confidence worse.

But, just for a moment, the voices get louder. More prominent. More powerful. This shows how much power the voices have over this person, and how this person is slowly losing their patience over being ignored, over and over.

The song takes a darker turn, with a loud booming drum in the background, the voices louder, the trumpet sounding like it's wavering. This person, is now becoming desperate. They're tired of being ignored, being pushed away by others, being treated like nothing. They try more and more, but their efforts are futile, sending them into a deep cycle of torment inside their own mind. But it can't get worse, right?

Then comes the violin. Sharp and disorienting to the ear, making it sound like something is wrong. Very wrong. But even with everything negative, that trumpet is still there, signaling that, whatever that's going to happen, doesn't have to. It can be avoided, It can be stopped. But if you listened to the song/watched the movie, we all know that isn't the case. The violin and other instruments hit a climax, the voices being the most prominent, and then...

Pain. Nothing but, pain. The quiet but menacing instruments are replaced with a loud, painful electric synth, a screeching guitar riff, with screams of pain in the distance, overwhelming the listener. I think it's simple to understand what this is trying to convey. Pain. Agony. This person that we have been following has experienced. something that no one ever should. Extreme, agonizing pain. The voices are still there the whole time, almost mocking the person for experiencing this.

The loud instruments suddenly stop though, with nothing but the riff, industrial sounding pounds, and small whirrs of electricity. Almost as if the person is in shock, now regaining their senses, and realizing what has happened to them. Something, horrifying.

The song seems to go almost back to normal, with most of the same instruments. But something feels, off. The violin is wavering, a lot more quiet, but still keeps the same menacing notes playing in the background. The powerful, menacing drums are still there, the voices are very, very quiet though, you'll only be able to hear it if you have headphones on like, max volume. Something's wrong with this person. It's like they're the same, but not.

The voices then return. But they're not mocking the person, pushing them down, they're empowering them. They're confident. They're angry. This person, is no longer dealing with the bullshit that their peers give them. They now have power. And is willing, to use it. For something, that probably shouldn't be done.

And then comes my favorite part. A magnificent, gratifying orchestra combined with electric riffs, paired with an amazing choir backing it all. It's extremely chaotic, showing how this person has slowly decayed through this song, but is almost, grand in a sense. As if they're going through, a metamorphosis. They're changing, growing into something, someone new. The voices are still there, pushing the person through with this, becoming the driving force of them. This person is no longer the person you once knew. They're something, different. Something, more powerful than you could ever imagine.

The orchestra and choir grow and grow into a climax, and then.........nothing. Nothing but a high pitched shrill note, creating tension in the song. It's saying that you're fearful of what this person, or more so thing has become, but is also, curious. The more you listen, the more chaotic it gets, the electric riffs coming back full force, now sounding much more powerful than before. The voices, are now the main focus of the song, blasting in your ears for a disturbingly chaotic rise and climax. Then the beat drops. (is that the right word?)

This person is no longer who they are. The old person is gone. The new one is in. And they want revenge. What comes is an amazingly awesome dubstep part, with the guitar and electric riffs giving a feeling of a crazed animal chasing and thrashing around, it's only goal to rip and tear you to shreds. And you need to run.

And uhhh that's it lol. I know I didn't cover the entire song, I just wanted to focus on the parts that I like the most. But there is one more thing that I want to talk about. The lyrics (yep, i'm finally talking about them). it's initally really hard to listen to what the lyrics say, but someone from the youtube comments took the time and found the lyrics that the voices are saying. The lyrics are:

Pulse is racing. Mind is aching. Voice is shaking. Agony. Paranoia. Self destroyer. Can't ignore the mental torture.  Pulse is racing. Mind is aching. Voice is shaking. Agony. Paranoia. Self destroyer. Can't ignore the mental torture. Pulse is racing. Mind is aching. Voice is shaking. Agony. Paranoia. Self destroyer. Can't ignore the mental torture. Something's racing. Mind is aching. Voice is shaking. Time is ticking. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Here comes paranoia. Mind is aching. Body's wasting. Thoughts are shaking. Mind is breaking. I can feel that time is ticking. Paranoia.

Denying the rising. The crying. I'm dying. Something tells me. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. (Mental torture. Self destroyer.) Here comes paranoia. (Can't ignore the paranoia. Mind is racing.) Falsify. (Agony inside of me.) Fragile they sang. (My pulse is racing. Mental torture.) I feel alive. (Self destroyer. Can't ignore the paranoia.) Electrified.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Pulse is shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Can't ignore the paranoia. Pulse is shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Pulse is shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Pulse is shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Pulse is shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer. 

Can't ignore the paranoia. Thoughts are shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Thoughts are shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Thoughts are shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Mental torture. Self destroyer.

Can't ignore the paranoia. Thoughts are shifting. Mind is tripping. Agony inside of me. 

My pulse is racing! Mind is aching! Voice is shaking! Mind is breaking! Paranoia! Self destroyer! Can't ignore the mental torture! Pulse is racing! Mind is aching! Voice is shaking! Self destroyer! Paranoia! Self destroyer! Can't ignore the mental torture!

Mind is halving. Mind is halving. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Here comes paranoia. Mind is halving. Mind is halving. Agony inside of me. My pulse is racing. Here comes paranoia. Denying the rising. The crying. I'm dying!

(operatic)

So yeah, it looks like a lot (it is lol), but the reason as to why is simple: it's repeating. The repeating of the same lyrics over and over creating a feeling of insanity, hysteria. Agony, paranoia really stick out to me, because even if they're just simple words. But they say a lot. The pain that this person was going through, only sends them further and further into insanity. They can't ignore the mental torture. They can’t handle it anymore. No more.

Im ending this here cause it’s late and i have to wake up early tomorrow sooo yeah, feel free to add any thoughts :)

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Joe Biden Shouldn't Be Allowed To Touch Or Smell Girls (or Even Boys or Enbys)

[Reading This Is Optional, besides talking about Biden and how he shouldn’t smell or touch others...this also Talks About Angels and Stuff, but feel free to skip some of those parts if you like.]

I hope I don’t have to bring this up too much, and hopefully some understands why this kind of thing that has been happening is a big problem even if it might seem like it isn’t.

first of all, NO one should hold some form of defense for his actions, cause it is possible he does this even without the consent of the girls and women he does this to.

if he did that to me, I would yell at him to "Please Back Off, I did Not give you consent to do that." and I really REALLY never want him to do that, and if my Guardian Angels were every like a secret service of the Presidents, then they would possibly not take his actions in kind, even if my trust for my guardian angels have went down to perhaps 98 or 95%,

they are still my guardians and it is possible they would not be too happy with him touching or sniffing me without my consent, ESPECIALLY if I have my moments when I really don't want to be touched.

also if it is true he was cheated in, I will say this......there will be a possibility that karma will hit those who cheated him, even if it might take some time...

I don't really trust Presidents anymore, unless they can somehow prove they aren't blood thirsty, corrupted or any other the forms that could be bad. and no matter how you look at it, it isn't right for Joe Biden to touch or sniff at any gal without their consent, but the likely of anyone giving him consent would perhaps be very low.

heck, it wouldn't be right if he did that to a man or boy either, also those who are Nonbinary.

even I might not really for Trump, but at least he didn't go around sniffing or touching people in the way Biden has been doing. and yeah my Mom is a Trump fan, but there also some of my family that aren't but we are still family......

but if ANYONE crosses a line when it comes to my Mom, just because she is a Trump Fan....well let me say this, anyone who messes with her, will only end up peeving me off.

also it would be best that those who have to watch Biden, give some effort to stop him from touching or sniffing others...

can you even ground a Presidents for that kind of thing...?

like if they start sniffing someone's hair without their okay, can you yell out "That's It Mr/Ms. President, To Your Room!"

and let's not forget the whole high prices, but I guess we will have to put up with it for now..... also I'm glad I don't have to follow any royal rules,

I saw a video by TheThings Celebrity on Youtube,

it's called "15 Strict Rules Royal Kids Must Follow"

well at least some of the rules seem fair, but I don't think I could go without some sweets or pizza for very long...and I do like garlic sauce, it's good with pizza as well.

also two of the rules that has to do with standing for the Queen or stop eating when she does, just doesn't seem right...

I mean I know she isn't around anymore, but still....what if someone didn't eat enough and might become weak to the point their lips become pale and they feel like they are going to faint...?

or if someone is in a wheelchair and can't stand...?

I know I did have a feeling like I was going to faint and feeling not so great, when I need to have food...

and you know what can suck for anyone, when you find out you are blood related to some famous people and just assume you can do a favor for them that has to do with the said famous people...

dude, just cause we are technically family, don't mean they know me or are very close to the family that I live with or known for most of my life.

plus there is the fact we never even met, so yeah can't do that favor....

plus I don’t think it’s okay for Joe Biden to do that stuff, I mean there is something called personal space and he should keep his hands to himself if he is gonna be all touching someone and making them feel uncomfortable and even the whole sniffing the hair.

just because he is the President doesn’t mean he has the right to do that creepy stuff.

no President should do that, I mean I guess if he asked maybe some will be okay with saying yes, but some might not be at all...

and I sure wouldn’t be, like picture my Guardian Angels taking physical organic matter form from their normal ethereal physical manifestation of light forms.

and he tries to touch or sniff my hair, and one of my Guardian Angels ends up tackling him to the ground and has his hands behind his back, all while the rest of them are forming a circle around me to protect me from him.

and they are all wearing white suits with dark purple sunglasses while placing their fingers to their ears and talking through a small mic that is attached to it all while saying “The O RH Determination Negative is safe, I repeat the O RH Determination Negative is safe.”

that would be kind of funny, but yeah if the Non-Earth Angels that are just Angels, did take on some kind of physical organic forms, and you could see your Guardian Angel or Angels and they had been living with you for your whole life even helping raise you when you were a baby...

then I guess no matter if Biden was President or not and he did try to touch or sniff my hair even though it wouldn’t be okay with me, then I guess my Guardian Angels will have to form a circle around me to keep him away.

there might be a good reason why some Angels aren’t allowed to take on physical organic forms, and Earth Angels are allowed to.

and we have some of the Watcher Grandpas & Grunkles to thank for that.

anyway even if there might be some who aren’t bother by Biden doing that, that doesn’t mean that everyone will be okay and decide to ignore it.

also Cain’s Dad ain’t the boss of me, and if some of those Watcher Angels that forced themselves on our Ancient Foremothers do turn out to be my and a few others own Ancestor Grandpas, they ain’t the boss of me either.

also it is still very unlikely that Jesus is my ancestor, and he might only be a distant cousin thanks to our shared ancestor King David.

and while I believe that it could be possible that somewhere down the line, he might of ended up becoming both a distant cousin and a ancestor...?

but hopefully that isn’t the case, and while his blood type isn’t O RH D Negative, the blood type, it is apparently one of the Ancient Blood types, like the Positive version of it.

and we don’t know for sure if any one of the Presidents will turn out to be a “Antichrist”, but even if that might appears so, and even if some might claim to be one, and I have my reasons to think this.

and if also gives me another reason to want to take the Antichrist by the ear and show no mercy to the said ear if he pulls any of that Antichrist garbage...

and if a certain info about Jesus is true that has to do with Knights and making nations go to war with each other, then if I was allowed to, I would grab him by the ear as well.

if I was allowed to, I would take them both by the ears and scold them.

I can still believe in Jesus, but because of some info I found it is like maybe around 99% or 98%...

Heavenly Father & Earthly Mother still get 100%.

but back on to the topic about Biden, so I don’t know if is gonna keep doing it even if he is asked to stop,

but he should at least try to stop smelling other’s hair or touching them and causing them to feel uncomfortable.

or at least those who are closer to him should try to stop him, like telling him “No.” and “Don’t Do That.” and he should listen.

I don’t know how many times he has done that whole smelling or touching someone and making them uncomfortable.

I think when I first heard about it, I got told by my Mom about it.

hopefully he has stop by now or if he hasn’t then he should be stop from doing that whole sniffing and touching by those who he will listen to.

unless it’s a handshake, then him making any other physical contact is a no.

 also I’m placing the “do not reblog without permission” tag for this...

also if Jesus is really gonna try to do anything bad, then he should try to cleanse himself from his Toxic-Masculine energy that has been building up...

I recommend starting with a Amethyst and maybe a Black Obsidian. 

those are the only two I can think of that might work for now....

maybe if that works, he will not do anything bad if the info I had found turned out to be true...

in my next post I’m going to talk about what I had discovered when playing Undertale, and well as for the whole reason why Biden keeps doing that whole sniffing and touching thing, who knows why he does it but hopefully he will stop soon.

that’s all I got to say about it, and I really wouldn’t be okay if he did that to me and lucky I never will meet him and live in a place in America where he doesn’t live in.

also it might be pointless to even mention that he was cheated in, even if most know this, it’s not like those who got him in will admit it...

we can only hope things get better, and the terrible stuff that is going on will get back to normal, because as the song of Sonic Underground goes

“You Can’t Own Everything, You Can’t Own Everything You See.”

that song is good and I think I will go watch Sonic Underground after I do that post about what I found in Undertale.                                                          

[quindolyn]

subby Jamie fluffy (Smut?) where he wakes up in the middle of the night and sucks on the readers titties to drink from her tits because she's lactating after giving birth to their daughter. I don't know if this makes sense but I hope it does!

Lactation Kink || James Potter

A/N: I'm not even sure if I should include "kink" but I will admit that there are some very smutty overtones so read at your own discretion. I tweaked the request a little bit in terms of the circumstances but the bones are still there. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: lactation kink, light sub!James and Dom!reader, not much I don't think, all acts are completely consensual and if they needed a safe word they'd have one

Word Count: 1851

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were life savers. They could only watch their two closest friends creep closer and closer to death for so long before doing something about it.

After giving birth to a beautiful baby boy seven months ago you and James had come to understand a new definition of the word exhaustion. You were absolutely enamoured with your baby boy, James the same way if not worse, always keeping him cradled in his arms, Harry’s little head nestled into the crook of James’ arm.

Regardless, there is no amount of parental love to counteract the complete lack of sleep the two of you have endured. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” they all say, it's excellent in theory if only the baby would actually sleep.

No, instead you and James were subject to months of newborn induced insomnia,

You’d barely understood what Remus and Sirius were saying when they offered to watch your son for a few days, give you and James some time alone. Even though every part of your being screamed for you to take them up on their offer there was that small, annoyingly persistent, voice in the back of your head. The voice of maternal guilt.

Your friends wouldn’t hear any of your arguments, listening as you insisted that Harry was still far too young for you to leave him, you could barely stand a few hours, how were you supposed to survive days?

Despite your insistence that it was far too early to leave Harry with his godfathers for an extended weekend when the following Thursday rolled around you and James were rather unceremoniously kicked out of your own house, told that reservations had been made for you at an expensive spa and resort and that you were not to return home until the following Monday.

They’d even packed your bags for you.

You and James had successfully made it through the first night away from your baby, your quality of your sleep however was not up to par as you tossed and turned, worrying about the little boy you’d left at home.

Even cuddled up to Jamie’s chest your sleep was more like a light sheet over your consciousness giving you a shallow, unsatisfactory, reprieve.

What you needed was for sleep to hit you over the head with a baseball bat, knock you unconscious for hours and give your body time to recover.

After a long, exhausting day of taking advantage of the resort's numerous spa treatments, your wish of deep, meaningful sleep seemed as though it might actually just come true.

Minutes after laying your head down on the pillow, James slipping into bed behind you, you were out cold. Pulling you closer so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck James was close behind you.

Finally, sleep.

-----

Your tits hurt, they fucking hurt. You were finally getting some quality sleep but the discomfort in your chest became intolerable and you were lulled back into a dreaded state of consciousness.

You’d been so ready for sleep and the peace that it would bring that you’d forgotten to pump your milk before getting into bed. You find yourself regretting that decision now, you shift slightly in James’ hold, just as tight as it had been when you’d fallen asleep. The clock on the bedside table reads three in the morning.

Fuck me, you think, your thoughts still blurry from sleep, carrying a weight in your temples that lures your head back down to the pillow as you fall back into your spot in James’ arms. You’re going to have to get up eventually, that much you understand, but the prospect of getting up and finding the pump, hooking it up, then actually sitting there while you pump sounds nothing short of absolutely dreadful.

You can only lay there for so long, on your back so as not to apply any pressure to your breasts, staring up at the ceiling before your tits go from hurting to feeling like they’re about to explode.

Eventually you’re forced to begin to fuss in James’ arms, trying to find the seal that will let you get up hopefully without waking your husband.

Even asleep James’ grip is insistent, he’s like quick sand, the more you try to maneuver your way out of his arms the tighter his hold gets, the closer he pulls you to him.

“Jamie, you gotta let go,” You murmur, hoping to appeal to the half asleep man.

“Where you going, angel?” His voice is the crashing of a wave against the shore in your ears, low, rumbling, calming. That voice alone is enough to have you considering just climbing back into bed with him, exploding tits be damned.

“Forgot to pump Jamie, m’tits feel like they’re ready to explode.”

He flickers his eyes open, worry etched into his irises, already blanketed in sleep, “Hurting?” Raising his head his eyes drop to your tits, like maybe he’ll be able to see your affliction.

“A little bit,” You nod, your hands combing through his unruly curls before making another attempt to rise from the mattress, “Gonna pump and then I’ll feel all better. I’ll be quick.”

“No,” He whines, god you miss the sound of his whine. His arms are like steel as he pulls you firmly back onto the bed, “M’thirsty anyways.”

Confusion heightens in you before James turns you so you’re fully on your back before slipping under your arm, resting his head on your chest.

Nimble fingers find the neckline of the silk camisole you’d found in the luggage Remus and Sirius had packed for you, sons of bitches also packed every single pair of lacy panties you own.

With little difficulty he slips the thin strap down your shoulder allowing him to tuck the soft material of the top under your breast.

“Miss my girls,” He whispers as he bares your breasts, they’re swollen with milk but the way he’s looking at you you’d think they were something far more precious.

“I’ll be gentle,” His promise comes just as he latches onto your pert nipple, carefully guarding his teeth with his lips, the last thing he would wanna do is hurt you.

It bears little resemblance to the way he used to suck your tits, fervently like they were the only things keeping him grounded, sometimes they had been. Now he proceeds with a new sense of caution but that doesn’t mean it’s any less pleasurable.

“Jamesie, ‘s for Harry, you can’t drink the baby’s milk,” You regrettably push him off your tit, he looks anything but pleased.

“They were mine first,” He whines, throwing you a dirty glance that falls completely flat given the immense adoration that lies just behind it, “And I told you (Y/N), ‘m thirsty, want your milk. Wanna make you feel good.”

Giving you his most convincing puppy dog eyes he leans back in, he latches on efficiently and sucking with an increased vigor you feel a feeling of fullness swell in your breast as your nipple tingles. It’s a feeling you’ve gotten used to but so rarely has it ever turned you on as when James is the cause of it.

He hums in satisfaction as the warm milk seeps into his mouth, it encourages him in his efforts causing him to latch on tighter. A little too tight.

“Easy there baby,” You hiss, “M’tits are sensitive.”’

He complies immediately, loosening his lips around your nipple the sensation becomes pleasurable once more. The pleasure helps distract from the discomfort which, at least in the tit James it latched onto, seems to be dwindling. The other breast is left aching until you feel a similar sensation coming from your nipple.

“You’re leaking.”

Casting your eyes downward you see that he’s right, you’re leaking slightly out of your unattended nipple. It's not unusual for it to happen but usually you just brush it away with a warm washcloth, not wanting to have a sticky mess on your chest.

Carefully, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the over sensitive bud.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” He brings his thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, the visual is almost enough to make your head spin.

You can’t remember the last time you saw James subby, ever since you’ve had Harry it's been sleepy handjobs and once you fully recovered, him pushing you up anywhere he could and taking you right there. It’s like parenthood awoke something far more dominant inside of him but as he latches back onto your tit you’re reminded how beautiful he is when he submits to you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers dance along the nape of his neck as you feel yourself unwinding with every second he sucks at your tit, bringing you relief.

“You full yet?”

He gently lets your tit slide from his mouth before responding, “Does it still hurt?”

The genuine concern in his voice has butterflies erupting in your stomach, you learned a long time ago just how sweet and caring James is but sometimes it hits you harder than you were expecting and you’re left feeling just as giddy as you did in the beginning of your relationship.

James seems to have sucked you dry, or at least to a point where your tit no longer burns with the feeling of an impending explosion.

“No s’all better baby, did such a good job,” You guide his face up towards yours, “Got a little milk on your lips,” You lean in, kissing the milk off his swollen lips.

It’s sweeter than you expected but maybe everything was sweeter coming off his lips.

You take your time admiring his face, hazel eyes that look a little more brown than they did yesterday, lips an impossible pink. Thick, long lashes you remember envying for as long as you’ve known each other cast their shadows along his cheekbones. He’s perfect.

You run the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip before letting him suck it into his mouth, when he couldn’t get to your tits sucking on your fingers always used to help James calm down. For the life of you you can’t remember the last time he’d sucked on your fingers. If it’d been in the last seven months you’d probably just been too tired to remember.

Letting your digit slide from his mouth James hauls himself over you, careful not to brush against your breasts, to lay on your other side. He moves with a surprising grace considering just minutes ago he’d been in the throws of sleep, you’d forgotten how well he moved.

“Other one now,” He murmurs, eyes glued to your tit as his hands move to cup it, giving him better access to your nipple.

“You sure baby? I can just pump this one and you can go back to bed, s’okay.”

“No,” His brows furrow with his empathic response, if he wasn’t already on top of you you’re sure he’d pull you closer in fear that you might escape, “Mine.”

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @Greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter  @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @Ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @Teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs @saggyb1lls

[sinner-as-saint]

I saw you and I knew.

Biker!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. 

Themes: smut, fluff, 

a/n: remember this Bucky? Yeah, me too. 

The moment you stepped into the bar, you felt all eyes on you. 

Not in a bad way, more like in an intrigued way. 

A couple of steps in and you realized why; there was no one but bikers in this club. Large, built, mean looking men. But judging by the sound of laughter and the bouncers scattered around the room, you felt oddly safe in the environment. 

You went up to the counter and ordered yourself a drink. Once you found a seat in the less crowded area of the bar, you settled in next to the large window pane; looking out at the passing cars while sipping on your drink. The sun would set soon so the sky was all pink, and-

You felt a tap on your shoulder. “This seat taken?” A male voice spoke up behind you. 

You placed your bottle down and turned to face him. You were aware that you did stare at him for a while. How could you not? Dark, slightly long hair, worn out leather jacket, and tattoos… a lot of them, peeking through his collar and around his wrists. And a perfect face. He gave you a slight smirk when he noticed that you were checking him out but you soon recovered, your heart racing. 

“No, it’s not.” You gestured to the seat across from you, which he then walked over to. 

You watched him, how he moved so confidently. You kept watching as he placed his own beer down, and took his leather jacket off to reveal a loose, ripped t-shirt underneath, as well as his muscular arms; one of them metal and glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar. He folded the jacket carelessly into a ball and placed it down on the table before taking a seat in front of you, leaning back and placing his muscular, tattooed arm over the seat of the booth. You noticed his pierced ears then. 

It almost felt like a strip show. He had barely said enough to you and you were already feeling a little hot, with him staring at you. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, and something about his ease, and the softness of his tone, despite his rather mean and dangerous appearance, chased away the little bit of awkwardness which was forming in between you too. It soon vanished. 

You licked your lips and answered, “It’s my first time here actually.” You gave him a polite smile which he returned, giving you the same look that everyone gave you for the first nanoseconds you walked in - an intrigued look. 

He leaned forward, and gently toyed with your car keys laying on the table top. You got a whiff of his scent. You expected him to smell like cigarettes but he smelt like some fading, strong and expensive cologne. Very manly. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him slightly, not minding the nickname. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckled, and the sound echoed in your head. He sounded so boyish when he laughed, it warmed your heart for some reasons. Something about him screamed trouble, and recklessness and danger. 

“You drive a Benz which no one here does, you’re drinking a martini while everyone is having cheap beers and you’re dressed like a classy lady in a place filled with leather and chains. So tell me, am I right?” He pointed out, his tone cocky and confident like one would expect. 

You leaned back into your seat as well. “You’re judging me.” You pointed out. Funny, you thought you were somewhat blending in here with your little black dress - but clearly not. 

He laughed again, making you crack a little smile. “Princess, look around. You don’t belong here. So tell me, what’s your story? How did you end up in a place like this?” 

You sighed. “I was just… driving around, and I ran out of fuel not far from here. So I called for my chauffeur and didn’t want to wait by the side of the road until he arrived so I figured I could get a drink while waiting.” 

He looked you dead in the eyes while you talked. Nodding at each bit of information. “I meant your real story, Princess. You drove a long way, why? I see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you. What is it?” 

He was reading you like you were his favorite book. And you found that quite… interesting because no one was ever able to do that normally. It felt intimate. 

“And why should I tell you?” 

“Because you want to. You need a friend, and I’m not half bad, am I?” Cocky, as expected. 

You chuckled. “You won’t get it.” 

He raised an eyebrow. A warning. “What is it? Your conservative and rich father won’t give you your pocket money in thousands this month?” 

Despite the words, he managed to get yet another laugh out of you. “I earn my own money, thank you.” 

“I’ll believe you. Then what is it? Your snobbish, rich playboy boyfriend is acting up?” 

And yet another chuckle left your lips. “You seem to have issues with people who are well-off.” 

He smirked. “Trust me, I don’t. I just want to figure you out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because your eyes are telling me that you’re sad. And that you’ve been contained for too long. You want to be freed. Am I wrong?” 

Your lips parted at the accuracy of his words. “No, you’re not.” You lowered your eyes to the table, but he was quick to reach out with his metal arm and grab you gently by the chin. He tilted your head just enough so you could look at him. 

“What is it, angel?” He asked softly. 

“I… I don’t want to go home.” You whispered, your voice tired and low. 

“Okay. Parents?” He spoke like he could relate. 

You nodded and he gently let go of your face. “Parents.” You confirmed. “They want me to marry one of their friend’s son because according to them it’ll be good for the both of us. And you know, for each of the families’ businesses.” 

He frowned. “You don’t like him, I assume.” 

You sighed. “I don’t know him. He’s a good man according to my mother, who also hasn’t seen him since we were kids. Apparently I met him once or twice but I was too young back then to remember…” you sighed again, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, picking up your glass and taking yet another sip. “ Whoever he is, I can’t say no.” 

He scoffed. “Yes you can.” 

You chuckled, dryly. “You don’t understand. My dad will make my life a living hell if-,”

“Who cares what he thinks? He married the one he loved, didn’t he? Then why not let you find love on your own as well?” He did make sense. 

You smiled sadly, thinking of your parents and their marriage. “I don’t think so.” 

He stopped midway through picking his beer bottle up. “What?” he asked, then went back to picking it up again, bringing it to his pink lips. 

“My dad. I don’t think he married out of love.” You let out a quiet scoff, “I don’t think my mom did either. They just realized that that would be the best for the both of them, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they ever truly loved each other at any point.” You tilted your head while looking out at the passing cars out the window. “Mom always told me that marriage isn’t always about love, it’s about convenience.” 

He let out a shameless chuckle. “I’m sorry, but what a bunch of bullshit! You believe her?” He asked in disbelief. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been told all my life. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice anymore, might as well.” 

He frowned at you, setting his bottle down to give you his full attention. “Come on, Princess. You can’t be serious. You can’t give up on love just because your parents did.” 

That earned him a smile from you. “You sound like you know a lot about love.” You leaned forward, placing your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your fist. “It’s your turn, tell me, who has you under their unescapable love spell?” It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him. Almost felt like you had known him all your life. 

He laughed again, that same boyish look on his face. “Nah, none of that. But I do know what it’s like to be contained, and I also know what it’s like to be finally free, with no worries about family pressure or expectations and let me tell you, Princess, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

That sounded exquisite. It sounded like… like everything you wanted right there and then. To not bother about what mom and dad might think and live for yourself for however long you wanted to. 

“And what gives you that freedom? Riding down the highway at full speed on your mean bike?” You sassed. 

You watched how his eyes lit up. “You’re right. And that’s exactly what you need, Princess. Come on, let’s go!” 

Before you could process anything, he grabbed your hand and stood up. All you could do was quickly grab your purse and keys and you went along with him. You only realized what you were doing once you stepped outside. 

“Wait! I- I…” You were stumbling over your words. A million thoughts rushing through your head all at once. And the piercing pair of blue eyes staring deep into yours weren’t helping at all. 

He walked up to you. “It’s your life. They can’t tell you how to live it. You have every right to find love on your own, and if you don’t want to marry what’s his face then don’t. Parent or not, they can’t do that to you. Come on, let’s go before some old, broody chauffeur gets here.” 

He tugged on your arm gently, walking towards the many bikes which were parked outside the bar. 

“But, I- I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, to see the guy. I’m… I can’t just disappear. Where are we even going? I just met you and I- I don’t even know your name. Besides, you had alcohol. You can’t-,”

“Apple juice.” He stopped, and turned around to look at you. He repeated, “Apple juice. Don’t tell anyone.” 

You looked at him like he was speaking another language. “What?”

“The bartender is a cool guy, I told him I don’t consume alcohol when I ride so he poured apple juice in beer bottles for me so that I can mingle with the crowd but also get home safe.” He explained. 

You giggled uncontrollably at his answer and he lowered his blushing face. “That was funny, but I don’t believe you at all, I-,” you cut yourself off as you laughed; quite unladylike. 

Without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you into him, and his lips were on yours in less than a second. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Still gentle, but passionately. He held you by the neck with his metal hand and you melted in his embrace. You kissed him back and you heard a little moan escape his lips - sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter, and other places throb. He teased you by biting down on your lip, making you gasp as his tongue soothed it right after. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him even more, kissing you deeper if that was possible. 

Your hands found themselves around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled against your lips once he noticed that you were getting a little breathless. “Now tell me. What do I taste like, Princess?” He whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your face felt really hot at his question and only then did you realize that he did in fact taste tangy, and sweet. “Apple.” 

He smiled against your lips before kissing you deeply again. “Told you. Now come on, trust me and let’s go. You can go home later tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll drop you wherever you wanna go. But right now, come with me.” 

Fuck it. 

“Yes.” You agreed. He gave you a big smile and tugged you along once again. You spoke up again. “And if you plan on killing me, just make it quick. Please. And don’t do weird things to me after I’m dead. Definitely do not feed me to animals, or humans for that matter. And don’t-”  

He cut you off with another kiss once you reached his bike. “Shh.” He laughed. “I won’t do any of that. Now come on, put these on.” He handed you his jacket from earlier and a helmet. 

You put those on quickly, not giving yourself the chance to overthink and prevent yourself from living a little. Once you climbed onto his bike, you realized that you would be pressed up against his back quite a bit. You didn’t mind it, it just made your heart race a little. His leather jacket felt nice and cool against your skin. 

“Hold on tight, Princess. It won’t be that long of a ride. But it’ll be great, trust me.” 

You nodded, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked with his huge, black helmet on. “Don’t kill us.” 

“I won’t, angel.” 

He kicked the engine to life. It roared so loudly that you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush already. You giggled as he drove off, away from the pub, away from where you had left your car, away from where your chauffeur was supposed to pick you up. Away. 

You felt the wind against your bare legs and parts of your face. Cold, rushing - making you forget. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and tipped your head a little, looking up at the saturated, pink sky, the stars had started showing faintly and suddenly you realized how much of your life you had missed while chasing the dreams your parents had assigned you to chase. 

Your friends would often talk of reckless nights back in university, but you never got to experience those because you were always busy studying to make sure your parents remained proud of you. 

But you were now. You were on a mean bike with a drop dead gorgeous man, riding down the highway while the sun set in the background. You felt alive. Slowly, you loosened your arms from around his waist, lifting them away from his body. You lifted your arms upwards, feeling your hands tear through the icy winds and you let out a genuine laugh. 

You noticed he slowed down a little when you did so. You let your arms up for some more time before you lowered them and wrapped them around his waist again. You inched closer and pressed your chest to his back, feeling his warmth seep through the many layers of clothing. 

“Thank you.” You whispered close to his ear. You knew he heard you even if he didn’t respond right away. 

“Wanna see the sunset better?” he asked, barely a second later. 

“Yes, please!” 

About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of what seemed like a motel. You got off the bike once he came to a stop and he did too. He helped you take the helmet off and immediately grabbed your hand and ran towards the motel. 

You followed, giggling like a kid. “Where are we going?” 

“The roof. Come on, quick.” 

He answered and led both of you to what seemed to be some sort of fire escape. You climbed the metal stairs as fast as you could, not more than a few steps behind him until you reached the roof. It was filled with empty cans, cigarette butts and what not but it also gave you a view to die for. 

The sky had turned orangish by now, the sun was halfway down the horizon and you were mesmerized. You couldn’t look away. The sky darkened with each second, and you felt too much at the same time. You wanted to run. And never come back. You wanted bike rides everyday. You wanted to take the time and admire each sunset like this. You wanted to not worry about anything for a while. 

You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind. Then he placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry, angel.” Only then did you realize that you had a tear slowly falling down your cheek. 

You wiped it away and kept staring at the sky, watched it change colors. Your racing heart calmed down and a certain body heat wrapped around you, comforting you better than any blanket ever could. 

You turned in his arms, facing him once the sky turned a darker shade of blue when the sun had set completely. Another tear escaped your eye. He caught this one before it fell down your cheek. He looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes. It almost made your heart hurt. 

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want any of it.” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his neck, admiring his tattoos through your teary eyes. You couldn’t tell what they were just yet, but they looked incredible on his tan skin. 

“Then don’t.” He answered, easily. “Don’t go home right away. Don’t marry him if you don’t want to. Stay.” He whispered the last bit, his metal arm reaching up to cup your face. “You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You giggled through the tears. “So this is where you bring all the girls?” You asked, your tone much more playful and teasing. 

He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I don’t. I don’t even live in this town. I have a family thing I need to attend in a day or two, so I was just passing by. I got a room for a couple of nights and boom, now here we are.” 

You nodded slowly. “Here we are.” You whispered back, your eyes flicking down to his lips a couple of times before looking back up into his eyes. 

He gave you a faint smile before leaning in for a kiss again, sighing once his lips touched yours like he had been craving it. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. He kissed you recklessly, tugging and biting your lip, allowing his hands to slide up and down your side and he tilted your head to the side, stroking deeper into your mouth with his tongue. 

“Let’s go.” He murmured against your lips before kissing them again. 

“Where?” 

“Downstairs.” He kissed along your jaw until his mouth reached your ear. He gave you a kiss and you visibly trembled in his arms. “It’s my turn to see what you taste like.” He whispered, blunt and hot. 

Your face felt really hot, again. And when he pulled away, he had a handsome smirk on his pretty face. You got over the shyness and leaned in to kiss him again, aggressively. He chuckled into your mouth and pulled away before tugging you along as he took the stairs again, leading the two of you downstairs. 

The night was properly dark by the time you got to the front of the motel, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other, stopping multiple times to push one another against the wall and make out like there’s no tomorrow. 

There were not many people in sight. You could hear murmurs of muffled conversations coming from the restaurant which was attached to the motel, and a group of bikers were having a chat and smoking out in the parking lot but that was all. 

He led you to his room, unlocked the door and pulled you inside, both of you giggling and moaning as you kissed like horny teenagers. 

He pulled away again, “Oh and, my name’s Bucky. Remember that when you’re moaning later.” He whispered breathlessly against your lips as he slammed the door shut behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he needed you like he needed air. 

“I’m Y/N. You remember that too.” You moaned into the kiss and shrugged his leather jacket off as quickly as possible, eager to feel his skin on yours. You helped him take his shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. You briefly let your hands roam around his torso, feeling each indent and firm muscle, your heart racing with each inch of skin you explored. 

He unzipped your dress while walking the two of you backwards, and by the time you made it to the queen sized bed you were both left in just your underwear. 

Bucky pushed you down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He was on top of you not even a second later. You whined when he moved to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. You wrapped your legs around him, moving your hips against him slowly, grinding on him out of desperation and he chuckled against your skin. “Eager, are we?” he whispered and peppered your neck with soft kisses.

You moaned when his hands reached up to wrap around your breasts, fondling and teasing you through the lacy bra. He moaned against your skin as your fingers slid through his hair and tugged at his roots. 

“Bucky…” You dragged his name out, squirming under him as he took his sweet time kissing down your body. 

“Hmm?” He acted oblivious as he took your underwear off and tossed them on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs properly. His handsome, perfect face just inches away from your dripping core. 

You whined. “I want you, please…” 

He chuckled, kissing your inner thighs. “I know, angel. I know.” His warm breath fanned your sensitive skin as he spoke, and he noticed the way the goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He looked up at you for a quick second, scanning your face. 

You held your upper body up on your elbows by now, looking down at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth. He sent you a shameless wink before leaning in and kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He teased your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. 

A pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “You taste better than I imagined…” Bucky chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. 

He grinned to himself, glad that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your wet folds, making you whine as he tasted you. His touch was slow, pleasurably agonizing. “Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “But I’m not quite done, so don’t you come yet angel.” He whispered against your wet skin. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you, one drop at a time. But Bucky didn’t let none of it go to waste, he leaned in and latched his mouth onto your core, sucking and licking and teasing you. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. 

He watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. He had you coming undone all over his mouth in no time. 

“That’s a good girl… cum for me, Princess.” 

You were gasping for air in no time, your body squirming under his. Bucky kissed his way up your body again. He gave you a brief kiss on the lips then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his underwear and grab a condom from the drawer and put it on. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

Bucky’s body settled in between your legs comfortably again, and he leaned in to kiss you on the nose and then down to your lips. You smiled through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his thick and hard cock resting against your thighs. He touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. 

You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around. He stared into your eyes, his face still dangerously close to yours. “You okay, angel?” he asked. His voice strained and deep, gravelly with lust.

“Yes… please, I need you.” You whispered against his mouth. You were burning up under him. 

Bucky pushed his tongue into past your lips while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You immediately lifted your legs up to wrap them around his waist like earlier. You moaned quietly as he pushed into you. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and gave you a couple of seconds to adjust. He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down on the bed, above your head. 

He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to keep quiet. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let me hear you.” He whispered, groaning by the end and let go of your hands to hold your body. 

He gripped your waist and pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed you, bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. 

Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you, and in the daze he was in, he mumbled right in your ear about how good you felt. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine. 

Never in a million years did you ever think that you would find yourself in a motel room, having mind blowing sex with a hottie you met about an hour ago, but here you were. And you loved each moment. Your back arched off the bed as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless. And you loved it.

“Cum for me, angel. Come all over my cock…” 

Your moans got louder as your walls clenched violently around him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped, trying to calm your racing heart but he wasn’t done with you yet. Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck.  

“More.” He growled against your skin and pushed your face down against the pillows, making your ass stick out for him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed his cock into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up again; your butt cheeks pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you.

You felt him quicken his pace. “Fuck…” he moaned. 

You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you could barely hold back anymore. His other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. 

“Bucky… please,” You moaned, craving more and more of him.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded. You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. 

His soft kisses are the last thing you remember feeling before you snuggled up to his warm body under the sheets and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world for the first time in a long time. 

--- 

You laid your head on his bare chest, a thin white sheet barely covering either of you properly. The sun was coming up and you could tell that your phone would be blowing up by now if you hadn’t turned it off the night before. You quickly chased those thoughts away, you didn’t want to think about anyone this morning. 

Just Bucky. 

You lifted your head up slowly so as not to disturb him but when you looked up you found him staring down at you with a soft smile on his face. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained. 

He chuckled, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Hey angel. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He asked, concern written all over his face for a moment. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay.” You lowered your head again, placing your ear right on top of his heart. You let out a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape your family forever and your father will track you down and you would have to explain yourself, possibly even marry whoever they ask you to but this right now, last night and this morning - you would cherish that forever. 

You lazily ran your fingers up and down Bucky’s tattooed arm wishing for a different reality, while he played with your hair. You gently traced the lines and curves of ink on his skin, some were hard to decipher because they overlapped with the others. Some words you could make out, some you couldn’t. A few of the discreet, smaller tattoos looked like he had done them himself, and their messiness made you giggle. Like the poorly done smiley face on the inside of his wrist, and the fading initials next to them: j.b.b. 

You froze. Hang on… 

“Bucky?” You felt like you would explode with the amount of emotions and thoughts which rushed inside your head. 

“Yes Princess?” You could hear the sleep in his voice. 

“What’s your last name?” You asked, anticipation building inside of you and almost choking you. It couldn’t be… could it? 

“Barnes. Why?” He answered, looking down at you with confusion all over his face meanwhile you looked like you had seen a ghost. 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Let me guess, your real name is James. And your father has a very close friend and fellow businessman named Y/L/N?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Yes. How did you-,”

You got up and straddled him, pinning him down under you. He didn’t mind the nudity, quite the contrary actually. “Bucky! You’re the guy I’m supposed to marry! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!” You went on to tell him your full name and you watched how the realization hit him just as hard as it hit you. 

“Oh…” His smirk faded for a moment as he processed what you had just said, before it formed again. “Well in that case…” He flipped the two of you around and pinned you down under him just like he had last night. “It’s nice to finally meet you, future wife.” He leaned in for another kiss. 

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

[inhuman-obey-me]

Excuse me! it’s just me, this blog’s stalker because your works amazing. I kinda am in love with your demon’s nature series. I if I could request something. Could you possible do MC seeing the brothers do something that is “demonic”. Similar to what happens in the series. Thank you!!!!

Hello!! Haha, thank you -- we’re so glad you like our content! ;u;

And I’m glad that you enjoy the Demon’s Nature series! It’s been a lot of fun to write.

Sorry this took a bit! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be something with one of the brothers or all of them, so I ended up doing little short blurbs for each of the brothers and MC accidentally catching them doing something demonic/violent. Tried to keep them all pretty short, which was hard.

[Mod Cosmos]

MC accidentally catching the Demon Brothers being Demonic/Violent

content warning: blood/gore, body horror (especially in Beel’s), and general violence

Note: This is through the perspective of an MC that knows that the demons do their thing, but perhaps doesn't want to see it happening in front of them.

LUCIFER

You were supposed to go shopping together after meetings for the day were finished, and he had told you to just wait an additional thirty minutes so that he could finish up some business. Thirty minutes passed, but there was still no word from him, so you decide you’ll go and see what was holding that workaholic up. You soon realize that was a mistake.

You hear muffled cries, and a familiar deep voice. Cautiously, you approach the source of these sounds -- a room located off a dark corridor. You didn’t think there were any classrooms here, and your curiosity got the better of you -- so you approach the door, peeking through the crack. You recognize the intimidating silhouette and --- there’s blood. There was another figure in the room, their body limp on the ground in a puddle of red, the mighty first-born’s claws tearing through flesh. A loss of balance in your surprise results in you tumbling into the room, earning a sharp turn from Lucifer, whose crimson eyes were wide in surprise. His wings spread out to try and shield the unsavory scene from you.

“MC, you were supposed to wait for me.” His voice is stern, but there’s a gentleness to it. He sees the queasy look on your face, and decides he can put this torment to an end. With a swift motion, he fully blocks your line of sight before slitting the lesser demon’s throat. He then turns back to you, lightly embracing your body with black feathers. His voice is soft as he did not want to frighten you. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. Let’s get you home, shall we? I’ll make you some tea.”

MAMMON

It had just been a scratch. A low-level demon had taken a swipe at you in passing, but hadn’t been able to cut too deep. Mammon insisted he was just running off to get a bandaid after you insisted he didn’t need to go after the other demon. He said that he’d be right back--”I’m just gettin’ a bandage, I swear!”-- and told you not to move an inch. But this bandage quest was taking longer than it should have, so you go after him, pressing a loose cloth against your wound. And there he was, having cornered the offending demon. He seems to be staking the demon in the arm with a sharp metal object, speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand.

You hadn’t even realized you had dropped the Majolish bag from your hand, not until it hit the ground with a thud and Mammon whipped around to see you there. A flash of guilt appears on his features, his eyes going between you and the lowly demon. He drops them, though he can’t resist one more swift kick to their chest before running back to you.

“I told ya I’d be right back!” He’s about to cup your face in his hands, but retracts them as he realizes they’re covered in blood. “Uh, okay, let’s go get that,” he motions to your injury, “...taken care of, yeah?” He mumbles a sorry as he picks up the bag you dropped before ushering you away from the scene, promising he’d do whatever he needed to do to make up for having to witness it.

LEVIATHAN

You’re browsing games at a shop, having tagged along with Leviathan who had been raving about a new release. At one point, however, Leviathan had vanished from your side. You now realize it’s been … quite some time, actually. You wander about the store, unable to find him anywhere. Did he step outside? You decide to check, missing the anxious glance from the clerk behind the counter.

You hear some sounds from the alley by the shop. Is that … someone choking? Worried, you round the corner to make sure whoever it was is okay -- only to see the one doing the strangling was Leviathan himself. He had his tail tightly wrapped around the other demon’s throat, and … what, what was that inky substance leaking from their eyes? Leviathan caught your shadow against the alley wall, turning to you with a slightly panicked look.

“M-MC!” His tail quickly slithered off and away from the demon’s throat, leaving them to collapse to the ground. He’s suddenly at your side, hands on your shoulders as he turns you around and makes you walk out of the alley with him, murmuring something about how the venom will take care of the rest. “S-sorry about that, MC. You look a little sick … let’s get that game and go home and play, okay?”

SATAN

You had been ambling through an aisle in the grand Royal Library, wondering what random book you should pick up next to flip through idly. Satan had wanted to spend a quiet day reading and studying together, to which you readily obliged. But it was easy to forget just how large the Royal Library was -- what floor were you on again? -- and you wonder if you should head back to where the two of you had set up. Then you suddenly hear a distant crash. It seemed to be coming from one of the meeting rooms at the back, and you couldn’t help but want to take a peek to see what had happened.

“Fuck you!” You knew that voice, and you knew that anger. There was a muffled yell, and what sounded like shattering glass. Then there’s a chilling, mocking laughter, and you can feel the goosebumps starting to cover your skin. You nervously approach the slightly ajar door, and there he is, his tail impaling another demon with its sharp ridges. Oh, there is fury burning in those eyes -- ones that shift to land on you, and that glowing fury is replaced with exasperation.

“MC!” Your name comes out as a hiss, but he quickly tosses the other demon, slamming them into the wall. “You…” He’s unsure what to say, his wrath calming at the sight of you, especially with that look on your face. “I … I’m sorry, I just had to take care of something. Please, let’s go. We can talk about this later.”

ASMODEUS

The music is loud, the drinks are pouring, and you’re having an absolutely wonderful night out clubbing with Asmodeus. You were returning from the bar with two drinks in hand for the both of you, thanking one of the security guards on your way for managing the crowd of fans that had now dispersed, only to find that Asmodeus was not to be found at your table. He had left a note-- “BRB! ♡”--with lipstick on a napkin. You waited, sipping your drink as you demon watched from your seat. Some time passes, and you realize you’ve finished your drink a bit more quickly than intended. There’s still no sign of him, so you might as well go get another.

On the way to the bar, however, you pass by what you assumed was the hall to the restrooms, and you hear a desperate “I’m sorry!” cutting through the heavy bass. Should you be concerned? Well, you decide to at least be nosy, so you slip into the hall to see what was going on -- and are met with the sight of Asmodeus holding a heart he had carved out of some poor demon’s chest. In your shock, your empty glass slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, earning your demon’s attention.

“Oh, MC!” Despite his surprise to see you, he gives you a smile -- one that gives you chills as you see blood spattered on his face. “Ah, what a mess…” He lets the lesser demon slide to the floor, debating on what to do with the organ in hand, but hides it behind his back for now, coming over to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “Sorry about that, darling. I’m just going to go clean up, so wait for me at the table, ‘kay?”

BEELZEBUB

You had agreed to go with him to Madame Scream’s after finishing up classes for the day, but he was running late. He’s not picking up any calls, either, so you decide to go to where his last class would have been -- maybe they were just running way over, and he hadn’t realized the time? The hall is quiet, and you end up reaching an empty classroom. Walking back out, you decide to try calling him again. Ring, ring. After a moment, you realize you can hear Beelzebub’s ringtone in the distance, and you follow your ears to where his D.D.D. and ultimately he himself must be.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw next. A head of bright orange hair buried in a lesser demon’s abdomen, the sound of squelching and slurping from his feasting sounding so much more insidious than usual.

“Beel!” You can’t help but cry out his name in shock, which causes him to jolt upright -- with intestines still hanging from his mouth. Oh, you were going to be sick …

“MC … sorry, Lucifer always says I need to work on my table manners … “ He gulps down what was left hanging, but his eyes widen when it registers just who caught him in the act. “Oh, uh, guess that’s not the point, huh … “ He sheepishly wipes at his mouth with some torn cloth that you can only assume came from his victim, standing up and walking around to block your view of the mangled body. “I’ll clean this up, and then … well, we can do whatever you want to do. Sorry, MC …”

BELPHEGOR

You’re looking around for where Belphegor could possibly be napping. Beelzebub had to go to Fangol practice and asked that you make sure his twin got home, as he had seemed even more tired today than usual. He’s not in the Western Courtyard, so you head to the Southern Courtyard next. You think you remember him saying that was one of his favorite spots…

You perk up as you spot the ever-familiar cow patterned pillow, but you fail to see the demon that was usually attached to it. Peering around the area, worry starts to set in -- and then you hear a scream. It certainly didn’t belong to Belphegor, but the gears in your mind start turning and you run to where the scream came from. Of course, no one else was around here -- it wasn’t the busiest area on campus in the first place. Turning a corner, you see just what you feared -- Belphegor had his claws at another demon’s throat, his barbed tail wrapped around their body and squeezing them tight. You feel weak, the scenario a bit too close for comfort as you recall what he had done to you in the past.

“MC?” Belphegor turned to see you, his eyes wide. He must have sensed your presence at some point, or maybe your heart was pounding much louder than you realized. He drops the other demon, growling something you can’t make out to them, and then slowly approaches you. He sees you tense up, causing him to stop in his tracks. He averts his gaze, not wanting to meet your eyes as he tries to figure out what to say. “I just … had to deal with something. You … you can head on home first, if you want. I understand.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

There With You

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Words: 2532

Summary: A panic attack during the Victor’s tour leaves the reader gasping for breath backstage. Her fiance is able to calm her down, but now she’s afraid that what’s real and what’s pretend will blur together.

Notes: This is another kind of comfort fic based on my own experience, so I hope someone out there can connect with it. I love reading things to help calm myself down, so I hope that my comfort imagines can do that for somebody else. Plus Peeta is one of my comfort characters, so it works out. (Also, the reader has taken Katniss’ place in this scenario. Still love Katniss, but this fit the story)

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety, the like (This is not a depiction of every kind of panic attack. This is just what I have experienced in the past)

-

None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be two of you. There weren't supposed to be riots. The romance wasn’t supposed to be real.

Then why was he the only one keeping you from sprinting off that stage?

Peeta’s fingers were intertwined with yours as he spoke to the crowd, keeping you grounded. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the hundreds of eyes staring up at you. You looked up at the screens and saw her looking back at you. Her. The first person you’d ever killed and you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of her name.

Your breathing hitched and you could feel the squeezing, twisting grip around your throat. No no no not now. Not in front of the entire crowd. What would President Snow do to you if you broke down in front of an entire district? What would he do to Peeta?

“Thank you.” Peeta finished up his speech and a few people in the crowd reluctantly applauded. His eyes locked on your face, seeing a single tear fall down your cheek and he quickly led you off the stage.

He knew that District 9 would be the hardest for you. He still remembered the knife and the blood and the gore. You had killed her to save him. And now you had to live with that for the rest of your life.

The doors closed behind you and you immediately fell back against them, clutching your chest with your free hand. You ripped open the buttons on your high-necked dress, foolishly thinking that it would make it easier to breathe. The invisible hand had closed around your throat, knees crushing down your chest. When you closed your eyes, Clove was on top of you, choking the life out of you slowly, whispering all of the ways she was going to torment Peeta once you were gone.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Haymitch said, his expression a mix of worry and unease. He knew the image of a weak Victor would mean more problems that you weren’t ready to deal with. He remembered what it was like to be under the eye of the Capitol.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Peeta, I can’t keep-” You gasped in between shaky breaths. Your vision was blurred at the sides and you were gripping the door to keep from collapsing. “I-I-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk now.” Peeta said, putting a hand on your cheek. “Can you walk to the train?” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to bring your hands away from the door. Peeta looked back at Haymitch and Effie for a moment before turning back to you. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” You must have nodded because he kissed your cheek before scooping you up in his arms.

Your hands released the door and instead latched onto the lapel of his jacket. Every part of you was shaking and the weight on your chest was only getting heavier.

“P-Peeta.” You cried, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ve got you. We’re almost there.” He tried to hide the crack in his voice, trying to be the strong one for you, but seeing you like this split his heart in half. Haymitch and Effie huddled around you, trying to block the two of you from any prying eyes or cameras.

You didn’t notice when they finally got you onto the train. In your head, you were still on that stage, staring out at the little brothers of the girl you murdered. You thought for sure you were suffocating. Every breath was becoming harder and more painful than the last and the blackness at the edge of your vision was growing.

Peeta sat down, holding you in his lap and gently stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You aren’t in the arena. You’re here with me.” He buried his face in your neck, gently pressing a kiss to the place between your shoulder and your spine. “You’re with me.”

“I’ll never leave that arena.” You whispered, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

This was far from the first attack you’d had since winning the games, but it was certainly the worst.

Haymitch and Effie just watched you with sympathetic eyes for a moment before leaving the two of you alone. Peeta held you tight until your breathing started to return to a steady pace. While your vision cleared, your body couldn't stop shaking and you couldn’t seem to pry your hands away from his jacket.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, trying to wipe panicked tears away on your sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have made you go out there with me. I knew what it was going to be like for you and I should have-”

“They wouldn’t have let you go out there alone.” You shook your head. “There’s no hiding from them, Peeta.” You repeated your words like an echo, over and over again. “I’ll never leave that arena.”

“Then I’m right there with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood up, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep before we reach the next District.”

He carried you to your compartment and tucked you under the covers. He crawled up beside you without you having to ask. It had become an unsaid thing between the two of you. You kept the nightmares away as best as you could and when one of you woke up afraid, you weren’t alone.

-

Peeta had proposed for the cameras the day you left for the Victor’s tour, but it was all for show. The Capitol ate it up. When you really said yes, it was a week prior, just the two of you in the calming quiet in a meadow outside of the fence. It meant more that way.

Of course, Effie had picked out an extravagant ring for you to wear on stage and everything. It was gaudy and heavy and enough jewels to feed three districts for a month. But like the faked proposal, it wasn’t what was real.

You twisted the small bronze band around your finger, examining it in the faint light coming through the train windows. You had been awake for about an hour now, but Peeta’s peaceful sleep kept you from stirring. You rested in the warmth of his embrace and listened carefully to the slow, comforting sound of his heart beat.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Rise and shine you two.” Effie burst through the door and Peeta instantly went rigid beneath you, jolting up and pushing you behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but his expression frightened Effie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I-”

“No, Effie, it’s okay. Really.” He said apologetically, his expression softening. “We’ll be out for breakfast in a second.”

“Alright. Don’t be long. I know they want to do a feature on engaged life. A little romance might be just what you two need.” She gave you both a small smile before walking out, the door sliding shut behind her. Peeta laid back on his elbows, blowing out a low sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare her. I just heard the door open and all I could think was that someone was here to take you away.” He pulled you back down to him and gently pressed his lips to yours. Truthfully, he’d been in the middle of a nightmare when he heard Effie enter. He thought that the images in his head were becoming real.

“She’ll be okay.” You concluded, drawing circles on his chest . “Effie is tougher than she seems. And she knows what we’ve been through.” Despite her bright and sometimes obnoxiously optimistic attitude, you knew that Effie wasn’t a mindless pawn from the Capitol. She saw what the games did to you. She saw the children behind the victors.

Breakfast was mostly had in a settled quiet. While neither of you said anything, Haymitch glanced over at you and you nodded to let him know that you were okay. It was that silent understanding that was the foundation of your relationship with your former mentor.

“They’re doing an update interview to see how the Capitol’s darling lovebirds have been enjoying their tour.” Haymitch said gruffly. “Which means lots of blushing and doe-eyes from you two.”

“That won’t be hard.” Peeta noted, looking over at you. He meant it sweetly, but something about it sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You ignored it, giving him a small smile.

“It’s comforting to know we won’t need to convince anybody of the whole hopeless romantic thing.” Haymitch made a face. “You two do a wonderful job of making me nauseous all on your own.” Effie smacked him with her rolled up napkin.

“I think it’s wonderful.” She mused dreamily. “How something like that could bring you together.”

You stiffened, keeping your eyes on your plate, pushing your eggs around mindlessly with your fork. Sometimes you forgot that this was still all a TV show for people to gawk at. You would be the star crossed lovers from District 12 for the rest of your lives. No amount of real emotion you felt for Peeta was going to erase that.

The other three seemed to notice your shift and finished their meal in silence. Haymitch excused himself to the dining car for likely the rest of the day and Effie left to work on the speeches you’d have to read in front of District 8. You hadn’t eaten a bite, opting to sip slowly at your coffee instead.

“Just a few more days and we’ll get to go home.” Peeta said, noticing your empty stare and untouched meal. You just nodded, not really hearing him.

-

“So tell us, Peeta, when did you know that you wanted to propose?” Caesar grinned into the camera.

“Honestly, I knew the moment we stepped out of the arena that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Peeta gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you with complete and utter adoration. Caesar gasped in awe, eating up the fluffy romance that Peeta was perfect at portraying.

Is that all this is? The thought penetrated your mind before you could stop it. A performance? Is everything he says for the sake of the camera?

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for not including me in the moment, Peeta.” Caesar pouted. “But it was just so sweet I can’t stay mad at you!” The two laughed and you forced a loving smile. “Really, proposing in front of the bakery just before you left for the tour- why, it’s probably the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

“I’m glad it came off that way, because I was a nervous wreck!” Peeta exclaimed and they laughed again. You had to admire his acting ability. Maybe that’s what scared you so much.

He’s just performing. Is he performing with you?

“I think we all want to know,” Caesar beamed, turning his attention to you, “what was going through your head, Y/N? When Peeta got down on one knee?”

You pushed any doubt from your head and just focused on everything you knew was real. “Honestly, Caesar, I can’t think of a happier moment in my life. I never knew what I was missing until we found each other.”

“Don’t these two just make you believe in love, Claudius?” He gushed to his costar. “We’ll let the two of you get back to your tour, but I can’t say how excited we are to have you all to ourselves here in the Capitol.”

“We can’t wait.” Peeta grinned. You both smiled broadly, waiting for the little red recording light to turn off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Peeta lifted your hand up to his lips. “That went well.” He muttered against the skin of your palm.

“Yeah. I think they definitely believe that we’re the perfect couple.” You hadn’t meant to say it so bitterly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Peeta’s expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes were different, the charisma that was there with Caesar was gone. His worry seemed to stem from something real, but you just couldn’t convince yourself that it was.

“Nothing.” None of this is real. It’s all just the games. What if you’re still in the arena? What if this is all in your head? You broke away from him, trying to hide the panic growing and growing inside you until it was all you could feel. You could hear him saying your name, but it sounded garbled and far away, like he was whispering in the rain.

What seized you now was unlike you’d ever felt before. Not only was it the dark panic that blurred your vision and tightened your throat until you couldn’t breathe- it was a complete disconnect from reality. It was like you were trapped inside one of their screens and you were banging on the glass, trying to get out.

-

You didn’t realize you had fainted until you woke up in Peeta’s arms. His was sitting up, cradling you in his lap like he had before, only now you were in your room and you had a blanket draped around your shoulders. You jerked away, your mind still terrified that even this wasn’t real.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” You whispered in a panic, still trying to push away from him. This was the Capitol. They were in your head. “You aren’t real.” As hard as you shoved against him, his strong arms were locked around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you closer.

“I’m right here. I’m real. Just breathe. Come on, stay with me.” While his voice was soothing, your vision was still blurred with hot tears.

“We can never escape this. Every second of our lives belongs to them. Nothing is real. It’s all theirs.”

Peeta pulled away, taking your hand in his. He slid the bronze ring off your finger and held it up.

“This is ours. It’s not Snow’s, it’s not the Capitol’s, it’s ours. It’s real and it’s ours.” He put the ring back on and moved your hand to his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. “I’m real,” He looked at you with a gentle and yet intense love, “and I am completely yours.”

You wiped away your tears and laid a hand on his cheek. “Peeta-”

“And no matter the nightmare, no matter the fear, or when your mind takes you back to the games, just remember I will always be there with you.”

He pulled you back to him and the two of you remained- away from the cameras and away from the Capitol. At least for now, you weren’t victors. You were a boy and a girl who had saved each other.