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voraciousvore · 8 months

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Boarding School for Giants (1/25)

Author's Note: I decided to share one of my stories on here. Admittedly, it's not my best work, and I've improved a lot since I wrote it, but it remains one of my most popular (and is a shorter and tamer story). Hope you guys enjoy! :)

------Chapter 1------

I was angry at the world. And I had good reason to be. My dad had left a long time ago, when I was a small child—just walked out one day for cigarettes and never came back. He left behind a gaping hole in my soul that would never be filled. My mother, too, suffered from that same void: She filled it with alcohol, or at least tried to, as much as a bottomless pit can be filled. Occasionally she could pull herself together enough, for my sake, to get a low-paying job to support us and keep us fed. Inevitably, though, she would slip back into old habits, and be consumed by the bottle again.

I was the poster child for teenage angst. I wore black nail polish and black lipstick and heavy eyeshadow with mascara. I dyed my dark hair with streaks of color and cut it in crazy, edgy styles. I had ear piercings and a nose piercing and even a badass tattoo of the grim reaper with a skull on my upper thigh that I got with a fake ID (don’t tell my mom). As for my clothing, I usually went for a goth or punk aesthetic: lacy black corsets with short skirts and tights, ripped-up skinny jeans, big black boots, messy crop tops with spaghetti straps. Anything black with buckles or spikes was my jam. I liked black because my heart was black.

My behavior mirrored my outer appearance. I played the role of the bad kid pretty well. I always talked back to my teachers and acted up in class. I smoked weed in the girl’s bathroom during lunch and cigarettes behind the school. My grades weren’t terrible, because I wasn’t a complete moron, but I certainly didn’t try very hard. I snuck out of the house on weekends late at night to attend wild parties, although I refused to drink alcohol because I didn’t want to be like my mother. I made out with bad boys, whom I knew all too well would use me and break my heart and leave me just like my daddy did.

The relationship I had with my mom, admittedly, wasn’t the best. She worked odd hours, so she wasn’t around much anyways. Sometimes she would bring home men that might stay for a little while, but none of them could replace my dad. She couldn’t handle my unruliness and didn’t know how to discipline me or give me boundaries. We would get into shouting matches with each other a lot, where we yelled past each other more than listening to each other. I knew all her weaknesses, and would intentionally say hurtful things to make her cry. I told her she was a terrible mother and she was the reason Dad left and nobody would ever love her again. I would regret my words later, but the rage and sadness I felt inside me was hard to control.

Today was the day where the tension finally snapped, and everything came crashing down. I had been having an unusually crummy day, and I was in a bad mood. I flunked my chemistry test—not that I really cared, but it still made me feel stupid. The other girls in my class were teasing me and telling me I was an idiot, and I didn’t like that. I was walking through the hallway to my next class when Billy the Bully, as I called him, spotted me and zeroed in on his prey like a bloodhound. I had spurned his advances once, finding him to be a contemptible wretch, and ever since he had made it his mission to belittle and humiliate me as much as possible. Since I had rejected him, he insisted I was an ugly lesbian. I was not in the mood for his bullshit today. He pushed me hard into a locker, laughed, and strolled off.

The coals burning inside me ignited. Billy the Bully was going down. I chased after him and punched him hard in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground, and kicked him in the ribs a couple of times for good measure. That’d teach him to mess with me. Unfortunately for me, I hadn’t noticed the principal walking down the hall, who was now gaping at me, appalled. It didn’t matter that Billy always harassed me, and that he had initiated the confrontation. The principal had only seen my violence. Despite fights breaking out all the time in the schoolyard, our school had a “zero tolerance” policy on the books for violent actions. Not to mention, I was sure they were more than happy to find an excuse to get rid of a troublesome rebel like me. I was swiftly expelled.

Needless to say, when my mom came home from work and learned what happened from the school, she blew up at me. As usual, we yelled past each other until we were both out of breath and red in the face. I stormed out of the house and took a walk to cool down, smoking a cigarette as I went. To be honest, even though I felt justified in what I had done, I regretted putting my mom through more stress. She was always failing me, but I figured she still loved me and cared about me. I was disappointing her with my bad behavior. I felt like such a failure.

Reflecting on my actions didn’t change the consequences, however. I had been kicked out of school, and now we would need to transfer me to a new school. I wasn’t sure how to feel, whether I should be nervous or optimistic. Maybe I needed a fresh start. My old school sucked anyways, and was lousy with bullies and haters. I hated school. Why did I have to go in the first place? I couldn’t think of any other high schools that were close by in our area.

When I returned home, my mom was making phone calls, trying to place me in a new school. Her eyes were red and puffy as she massaged her temple with her fingers. I tiptoed past her, slunk over to my room, and threw myself on my bed. I slapped on a pair of old headphones and blasted some death metal into my ears to drown out my thoughts. Somehow, the sound of wild demonic screaming and electric guitars always helped to calm down the boiling hatred inside me. I started to drift off to sleep.

“EREN!” my mom screamed my name, startling me awake over the sound of my music. I took off my headphones, irritated.

“WHAT?!” I shouted back with a disgruntled scowl.

“Pack your things,” my mother demanded. “None of the schools nearby are willing to take you in, and I can’t deal with you anymore. You’re going to boarding school to learn some discipline.”

“Boarding school? Are you freaking kidding me right now?” I balked. I was incredulous. Mom was trying to get rid of me. I flipped the script on her and acidly retorted, “Well, fine then! I didn’t want to be around you anymore either!” I rolled over in my bed and refused to look at her, facing the wall instead in defiance. She paused for a moment, as if wanting to say something, then sighed and exited the room, closing the door gently behind her.

I huffed and sulked for a while. Boarding school. Unbelievable. Scoffing to myself, I began to gather up my things, tossing clothes, school supplies, and some other miscellaneous articles carelessly into my backpack and a duffel bag. I didn’t have a whole lot to bring. We were poor, so it’s not like I had a ton of luxury items in my possession to pack. I prepared for bed and flopped down on my mattress, deep in thought. I wondered what boarding school was like. Maybe it would be better to get away from it all, to be far away from everything that was tormenting me. My mom wouldn’t be around to hassle me at least. How bad could it be?

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed and threw on some clean clothes. I hadn’t slept well, since I had been haunted by my nagging thoughts most of the night. I ate a bowl of cereal and drank some orange juice for breakfast, then decided I ought to at least make myself look nice if it was going to be my first day at a new school. I hauled myself to the bathroom and washed, did my make-up, brushed my teeth, and styled my hair with some hair gel. Much better.

I grabbed my bags and placed them in the trunk of our beater of a car. Rather than sit in the front seat alongside my mother, I opted to sit in the back instead, sprawling my legs out along the back seat. My mom pursed her lips in disapproval but didn’t say anything. She hopped into the front seat, and after a couple of tries the starter kicked in and the old car coughed to life. The car crawled out of the driveway and stumbled off, leaving a nasty brown puff of smog in its wake.

We drove for a while in silence. I played on my phone and occasionally looked out the window at the bland scenery passing by. We lived in a rural area, surrounded by farmland, so there wasn’t much to see other than fields of corn and wheat, grain silos and barns, and fenced-off land for cows or horses. It was a serene and pastoral paradise, but I had lived with these things my whole life so I wasn’t very impressed. The density of the buildings gradually increased as we entered more populated areas.

After a couple of hours, I started to get restless. “Where are we going? How far away is this place?” I questioned, finally breaking the silence.

“About that...” my mother said. She trailed off and failed to finish her sentence, as if she were afraid to tell me.

“Well?” I asked, a note of irritation in my voice.

She sighed. “I guess it’s better if I tell you now, so you don’t freak out when we get there. We’re almost at the drop-off point anyways.”

“Freak out?” I was becoming increasingly baffled. “Why would I freak out? What’s going on here?” I raised my voice as I spoke.

“This isn’t an ordinary boarding school.” She paused dramatically, letting the words sink in. “I needed to find a place we could afford, and a place that could handle your misbehaving and keep you in check. This school is planning to become an integration school, and they’re looking for students like you to join, so they offered me a substantial subsidy to sign you up.”

“Students... like me?” I was lost. “Why would they want a troublemaker like me? What do you mean by an ‘integration school?’ What is that?”

Before she could answer, our car was engulfed in shadow. I peered out the window and my jaw dropped to the floor. We were driving toward a massive wall, constructed of great stone bricks of an impossible size. The wall must have been hundreds of feet tall, and blocked out the sun as we approached. The surrounding buildings and trees looked like little models and toys by comparison. We pulled up to the wall and parked in a vacant lot. My mom, rather than explaining what was going on, got out of the car and removed my bags from the trunk. I stayed in my seat, refusing to budge. I was very confused, and even a little intimidated.

My mother opened the passenger door and looked at me expectantly. “Come on. Get out.” I just stared back at her. Nothing had been explained. I didn’t want to go. I was getting an uneasy, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Realizing I wasn’t going to win this fight, I begrudgingly got out of the car and followed her to a normal-sized door that was embedded in the enormous wall. She opened the door and we walked into a short, gloomy passageway that tunneled through the thick wall to the other side. As we walked through the darkness, I cleared my throat and tried one last time to finesse some information out of her.

“Mom... please. Tell me what this is,” I pleaded. I couldn’t stop my voice from cracking slightly. Genuine fear was starting to trickle into my chest. The whole situation was very strange and surreal.

We reached the door at the end of the tunnel. Sunlight bled through the cracks around the door, framing it with bright light in the musty darkness. My mom placed her hand on the door handle and exhaled slowly. She gazed over at me sadly. Her face was pinched up, as if she were trying to hold back strong emotions.

“On the other side of this huge wall... is the giant side of town. You’re going to a boarding school for giants.”

2nd Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731600807530823680/boarding-school-for-giants-225?source=share

Table of Contents:

Ch. 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Writing Masterpost

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darkjanet2 · 1 year

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Drusilla’s Soul- Ch. 28

DIGITAL WORLD- NIGHTMARE SOLDIERS

There was a dark castle in the middle of the desert that was surrounded by large, towering mountains. Inside, there were many more rooms with countless different rooms that contained different types of weapons.

In one room, there was a beautiful woman wearing a purple kimono underneath a black catsuit. She had long black tied up in a geisha bun with a golden ornament in her hair, leaving her bangs apart on the sides of her face. She had a bat tattoo on her forehead called Mark of Evil. She had purple eyeshadow, purple lipstick, and purple nail polish. In her right hand, she wore a golden gauntlet called Nazar Nail, everything she had touched and she had four bat-like wings on her back, the small ones on her upper back and the large ones on her lower back.

She was sitting on her throne in the center of the room, the moonlight shining through her windows giving a silver light to the scene below. She drank her red wine as it made its way from her glass to her lips. Her mind drifted away from everything around her as she focused solely on herself and what she was going to do next. Everything seemed normal and peaceful until all the guards walked inside the throne room. When they reached her throne, they bowed down to the ground and then raised themselves back up again.

"Lady Lilithmon, we have located a man who is heading towards the real world with his companions," said Dynasmon.

"Oh? Tell me about him," Lilithmon said, her eyes never moving off of her wine bottle.

"His name is Angelus, and he's a vampire leader of Fanged Four. He's already killed several humans before he came here." Dynasmon explained.

"Hmm..." Lilithmon placed a hand over her mouth as if she was thinking hard. "Is he strong?" she asked.

"He's very powerful, my lady." answered Dynasmon.

"How strong are his friends?" Lilithmon tilted her head and asked.

"I wouldn't say they're weak either. They're quite well known for their prowess, but I'd expect them to be stronger than him. The cult is called Order of Aurelius and they claim to be followers of a new god, a demon called The Master." Dynasmon finished.

Lilithmon didn't answer, she was still lost in thought. She looked at Dynasmon after she finished drinking her wine. "Order of Aurelius, huh? I've never heard of this before. What makes these people so powerful?" she asked in a curious tone.

"They claim to be descendants from demons that lived hundreds of years ago during an era where humans still lived on earth." Alphamon began explaining what she knew. "The Cult believes that those ancient beings can resurrect humans using their blood; this makes them extremely dangerous when it comes to fighting against other demons. They also believe that they can control the dead, which is why they call themselves the Order of Aurelius."

"Interesting... I wonder how much power they actually possess." Lilithmon mused.

"My lady, I have heard of this woman who has a soul. Her name is Drusilla. She was a member of Fanged Four that she used to work with. Angelus murdered her family and made her insane before he turned her into a demon. He had her in 1860 in London when she joined Angelus. 42 years ago, she was cursed by Kalderash clan to have a soul and she knew what she had done and she fled from the team. After that, Drusillla still had a soul and saved people from Angelus,” said Dynasmon.

"A soul? Interesting." Lilithmon curled her lips into a small smirk. “I wonder how strong she really is.” Lilithmon stood up from the couch she sat on and stretched.

Lilithmon walked to the window, her long dress gliding as she walked. She looked at the full moon, it was like a pearl shining down upon her.

"Well, Dynasmon, Alphamon, gather the strongest troops and prepare our forces for war." she commanded.

"Yes, my lady." said Alphamon and Dynasmon in unison.

They left the throne room while Lilithmon saw these two left. She smiled to herself.

‘Angelus, huh? I should give my men a try…’ Lilithmon smirked before turning her gaze to the night sky. ‘Drusilla is such a beautiful girl. Beautiful as I am.’

Laboratory - 11:40 AM

"Let's commence with the final test, shall we? This satellite is the one I've used in my studies of this particular object, and it was my understanding that you are interested to take a look at it if it works as expected," said Mr. Trick, showing Darla what he had brought along for the examination.

"This will cover the sun with the red sky above the Earth's surface, which you know can be seen from the broad daylight if you look at. Let the test begin," said Mr. Trick, pressed the button as the panel was opened, and the two victims were standing outside of the opened door.

There was a hideous beast coming out of the entrance, it was a large bat, looking humanoid standing 16 feet tall. It had black skin with no fur, had a muscular build, and its wings were spread behind it, like some sort of huge bat's wings. Its head-triangular, with a flat face and horn-like protrusions with certain bat-like features, but its eyes had no pupils. The mouth was wide open with sharp fangs protruding from it. In place of hair on it, there were spikes growing out of the skull.

The creature screeched inhumanly loudly. Both men screamed in fear. The creature was about to hunt them, but the sun burned the bat aflame.

“Hmph. A surprising result,” mused Darla.

“It has an effect similar to the sun’s radiation, but far more intense. Intiate the red sky,” said Mr. Trick, pressed the red button as the satellite activated.

The sky had turned blood red and everything around it had turned dark except for the white light emanating from the street lights.

“Now let’s do another test,” said Mr. Trick.

The panel opened once again, another bat demon began to slaughter the both men and them.

“Dead God! Never thought I’d see the day when vampires can really look in daylight,” amazed Darla.

“It exactly works perfectly. The vampire blood has a much higher concentration than sunlight or any other kind of energy source. So much so that it gives off an extremely concentrated amount of radiation. Even the UV rays won’t cause any real effects,” explained Trick. “In fact, vampires have found their own way to use this radiation when fighting against their enemies.”

“How impressive. And you say that you can create a super strong, radioactive substance in a matter of a second? That would explain why we don't see the effects when the vampires are exposed to the sunlight,” said Darla.

“Yes… But even vampires can’t survive without eating blood or some type of animal blood to replenish itself. With this red sky surrounding us, we can able to walk into the daylight and hunt them humans,” said Mr. Trick.

Darla grinned wickedly, “That would be the best possible scenario for vampires, wouldn’t it? To hunt humans like prey. And destroy the race of man.”

12:30 Shibuya, Tokyo

The citizen walked lively down the street and the transportation stopped at every traffic lights they encountered as they continued to head towards their destination. The schoolgirls chatted while they were strolling down the street.

Davis walked inside the Starbucks and ordered his treats. He ordered a caramel Frappuccino and raspberry jelly danish.

Meanwhile, the sky had turned something onimous red due to the sun’s heat. The streets in Shibuya were still packed full of people, but they were all heading into the convenience store and coffee shop that would have been considered as a luxury if not for its location next to the subway station itself.

The man noticed the sky was hint of red and frowned slightly upon seeing it.

“Hey, look up there,” said the man as he gestured upwards with his hand as a signal for others who are near to him to follow suit. A few bystanders looked up in the direction of his gesture and confused.

“This sky is a bit red, I’ve never seen it anything like this,” said the man 2.

“It sure looks pretty onimous,” said the woman, slightly worried.

After Davis paid for the Starbucks and thanked them and exited as he carried his treats. He took a sip of his caramel Frappuccino and hummed happily at the taste. It wasn’t too strong or too sweet, which made Davis like it even more. He was a man of his word after all, he always kept his word.

As he was walking along, he noticed something unusual happening in front of him.

“Look, Mommy. The sky is turning red,” said the little girl pointing to the sky.

“That’s weird,” her mother agreed. “I thought the sky was normal just now. Are you sure it isn’t because of the sunlight?”

“No, you didn’t see how red the sky was. This is different,” said the little girl.

‘Red sky?’ thought Davis was puzzled. He then looked up and the sky turned slightly red.

‘Where did it come from? And why does the sky turn red?’ thought Davis.

Just then the sky turned redder and redder, until it turned a dark shade of red as the sun vanished behind the horizon except the lights still left from the city.

“What the hell?! Everything is red!” exclaimed the man 2.

The citizens began clamoring over each other to try and figure out what was going on as well as where the sun went.

“I’d better call the others,” whispered Davis to himself. He reached out for his phone and contacted Tai.

At Kamiya Residence

“Yeah, I see it,” said Tai that Davis told him something terrible had happened. He had no idea why the sky had turned red, but it certainly sounded bad. “We need to go right away.”

He hung up and scowled at the sky, it was red and everything. How is it possible that the sun suddenly disappeared and the sky turned red without any reason at all? What has gone wrong?

#drusilla #crossover #digimonadventure02 #btvs #vampires #buffythevampireslayer #angeltheseries #digimon adventure #fanfiction #au crossover

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

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Fuck saw this fanart of Yoongi in a skirt. I like the overall soft vibes of it. The song prob helped hm. My horny brain turned on as I remembered the ot7 fic with Yoongi fucking mc with his skirt on bc she likes it. Yoongi wearing a long skirt like this and he just unzips it to fuck mc omg. (Pretend that the skirt doesn’t fall off. And no underwear I guess. And it somehow works overall lol. I haven’t worn a long skirt so idk how this works but yes) He likes to wear feminine and masculine clothes. And she likes seeing him in his feminine clothes. Him in a short skirt too omg. Omg add in black nail polish!!! It’s such a weakness of mine to see a cute guy wear black nail polish omg. Other weaknesses include tattoos and piercings to some extent. I’m imagining model Yoongi but idk. I guess I like the contrast between the pretty/beautiful/cute vs the hot/manly/tough version of Yoongi

-🖤

people are so talented 😭

I REMEMBER THAG FIC IT WAS SO GOOD THE MC TELLING HIM TO LEAVE THE SKIRT ON HAD ME SCREAMING

i mean i guess as long as his thighs are spread wide enough the skirt wouldn’t fall down?

i’m a whore for tattoos and piercings but i’m also a whore for feminine men because they’re just so soft and cute and what i want to be as a female but don’t have the balls to try and achieve because of i don’t even know, low self esteem i would assume

yoongi who wears both ☹️ he’d be so pretty ☹️

#ask #🖤 anon

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mighwnt · 1 year

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hey for the warrior cats headcanon post what do u think abt ashfur 😊

hiii ty for asking <3

sexuality headcanon: straight lol

gender/pronouns headcanon: i can only see him as a cis guy, but a cis guy who uses he/they

rate them out of ten: 8.5/10! i do really like him and his drama, he’s fun to hate and i like the plots surrounding him.

favorite thing about them: the absolute drama of it all. like, he’s such an incel but he has the dramatic flair to make him compelling, which is the opposite of bumblestripe, who’s a typical “nice guy” but has none of the charisma

least favorite thing about them: i wish they had explored his connection to his siblings/his jealousy of them more. i see that a lot in fan interpretations and i really like it!

why i first started liking/disliking them: so i read po3 before the other books as a kid, so i was predisposed to hate him since i never saw him grow up/his “romance” with squilf. but all of the amazing maps and amvs and everything…. mr brightside was FORMATIVE

do i relate/project onto/kin them? not at all

favorite quote/moment: his bit about his heart bleeding onto the stones and no one can see… so fucking emo. and the fire scene as a whole ofc

my fav ship: scourge x ashfur 4 lyfe

my fav platonic friendship: i really like his friendship with his siblings… i wish we had more of it. i also like the idea of him and spiderleg being friends, two men’s rights activist redditors

a ship i hate: squirrelash for obvious reasons lol

do i prefer canon or fanon? um. i dislike a lot of what canon does with him (putting him in starclan bc he loved too much) but i also dislike a lot of what fanon does with him, esp the people out there who are still woobifying him. so i suppose i’m a fan of my personal interpretation :)

random headcanon: he gets seasonal allergies during newleaf and has a weak immune system in general. he spends a lot of time being sniffly and a bit miserable.

what color do i picture them as: grey! he’s a blue spotted tabby with very low white

cat breed headcanon: i don’t like doing breed headcanons for most warriors. i can see him having a little oriental or devon rex in him though. curly furred ash is really nice.

unpopular opinion: i don’t think his character before his “snap” was really that much of a great/interesting guy. he was just another bg cat… male version of ferncloud really, everything you want him to angst about, she can also do, but the fandom was spending way too much time being misogynistic to deal with that lol

things i associate with them: thunderstorms, ash trees, orange, broken hearts, eye bags, emo hair, eyeshadow, black nail polish

song i associate with them: gossamer by fashion jackson and oh yeah? you gonna cry by lovejoy

favorite MAP/PMV/AMV with them: DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD A QUESTION THIS IS???? i think i have to say mr. brightside… but there’s so many good ones

#ask #wc #mewfeuillez

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queenlilith43 · 3 years

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The Princes of Hell

Okay, this is it. After six and a half hours, I have finished the post.

This includes all canon information and my theories. Feel free to reblog with your own.

Tag list: (love y'all, tell me if you want to be added or removed!) @the-blackdale @patalliumapples @murderbabies @blueth0rn @herondalesofterrasen @revati3008 @tenacioushubb @pjo-tsc-trc-otherthingstoo @bookeater34 @unorganisedbookshelf @clarys-heosphoros

Extra thanks to @patalliumapples without her help this post never would have been finished. So thank you for helping me.

Belial

Belial: The Thief (From Hebrew Bel’yy’al, meaning “wickedness, a wicked man, a destroyer)

Has sometimes been called the father of Lucifer (?)

Claimed to have convinced Lucifer to rise up against God in rebellion

Patron demon of the month of January

Invocations to his name can be found in the Black Volume of the Dead

[11:8 . . . the hordes of Belial . . . ]

[13:4 Acursed be Belial for his inimical plan, may he be damned for his blameworthy rule]

[4:2 ?’s fury unleashed against Belial and ? the men of his lot]

[13:1-2 ?]

There are coins on top of his Bible verses, like coins placed on dead man’s eyes. He also has a map behind him, which looks like London?

Belial has one confirmed eldest curse: Tessa Gray, born in 1862. All descendents of Will Herondale are descendants of Belial, with his grandchildren James and Lucie Herondale, ones he has his eyes on. Another grandchild is Mina Carstairs, as of GOTSM very small.

Belial is not very smart, nor is he powerful. His plans tend to fall apart at the seams. Despite this, he tries to keep up with the mundanes. At one point in Chain of Iron, he had black nail polish on.

His main goal is to walk on Earth, which he just can’t, compared to other demons. He can do this by possessing someone of his own blood, but in that case two factors get in his way: His sexism and his own stupidity. Belial (as of TLH) is trying to possess James, but not Lucie. Because he is a sexist pig.

Belial had a plan to use Jesse Blackthorn’s body to walk on the Earth, because Jesse’s soul had a small part of his he could use as an anchor. However, due to his dumbassery and lack of foresight, he was defeated by the Shadowhunters. This plan tied into his necromantic abilities, which his granddaughter Lucie seems to have inherited.

Belial also steals realms. He stole Belphegor’s realm from him a long time ago, and once kicked it, moved onto a bigger prize. In Chain of Iron, he tried to steal Edom, which is Lilith’s realm. She showed up, beat his sexist ass, and now Belial has to find a new realm.

Allied with Leviathan.

He has a huge weakness in the sword Cortana. If he is stabbed with that three times, he dies. The sword is so potent because embedded in Cortana’s hilt is a feather of the archangel Michael, the one who put him in Hell in the first place. As of Chain of Iron, he has been stabbed with Cortana twice. The next one will be the fatal blow.

Belial, in Ghosts of the Shadow Market and Chain of Gold, showed the ability to shift into other people to tempt you. It's kind of interesting how he did that.

“You have me wrong, child, if you think I feel that humans are foolish.” - Belial, Page 469, Chain of Gold

“Belial, who ‘did not walk among men,’ was described as the prince of necromancers and warlocks, and a thief of realms.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

"'To-may-to of agony, to-mah-to of ah-gony,' Belial said. His reflections in the mirrors wept tears of blood. 'Do you know what causes us pain? The one who made us has turned his face from us. We are not allowed before the throne. But adamas, that's angelic stuff. When we touch it, the pain of our absence from the divine is indescribable. And yet it's the closest we ever get to being in it's presence. So we touch adamas, and we feel the absence of our creator, and in that we feel the smallest speak of what we once were. Oh, it's the most wonderful thing you can imagine, that pain.'" - Page 148, Ghosts of the Shadow Market, Learn About Loss

“‘Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’ It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? From the book of James, too . . . I see that you begin to understand a fraction of your power you could have if you embraced your true heritage.” - Belial, Page 490, Chain of Gold

“Beliya’al, liar, ruin-lover, I could not believe you would have broken the trust of millenia--would have tried to take from me the land granted to me by Heaven itself.” - Lilith, Page 544, Chain of Iron

Belial appears in Ghosts of the Shadow Market, Chain of Gold, The Lost Book of the White, Chain of Iron, and should be in Chain of Thorns.

What will Belial do next? Well, the first thing he’d want to do is steal himself another realm. That could give him power and other demons he could control. Hopefully he learned his lesson and doesn’t go after Edom again, and instead attacks a demon like Belphegor, which can be defeated easily.

Belial is still working with Tatiana Blackthorn, and some people have suggested that they are in a relationship. I wouldn’t rule it out, considering the fact Belial calls her his “dark swan” and seems to care for her. She also provides half of his braincells, and is the only reason why he hasn’t been killed yet.

At both the end of Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron, Belial has been seen talking with Tatiana. Her idea was to go to the Adamant Citadel . . . but for what? She also gave him a key to some tombs. The Silent City.

Something’s down there. And Belial won’t stop until he gets what he wants. It may be to possess James, but what else is he planning? (Time to re-read the last chapter of both Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron!)

Belphegor

Belphegor (Associated with the sin of laziness.)

According to the Infernal Dictionary, Belphegor was Hell’s ambassador to France.

Belphegor’s prime is widely associated with the Number of the Beast, 666

*The only Prince of Hell ever to have married a mortal, but the marriage was not a happy one. Belphegor returned to Hell denouncing the institution of marriage.

Known as “Lord of Opening” and can open passages to Pandemonium, the city of demons.

Known as the enemy of Beauty and despises beautiful things.

Instead of a face, we have a skull, similar to the skull on Sebastain’s flower card. (Look it up if you have to, but it’s there.) Another skull can be seen where the page flips over in the top left corner.

No known eldest curses, since Belphegor has been floating around in the void since at least the 1200s.

Belphegor used to have a realm of his own, but that was stolen by Belial. That only contributed to his unwillingness to work with others, something that could come into play later.

No known alliances, and probably doesn’t have any.

“Belphegor, the prince of sloth and, strangely, tricksters and snake-oil salesmen.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“Poor Belphegor. I wounded him quite gravely when he was not expecting it. No doubt he is still floating in the space between worlds, trying to find his way home. Not a nice fellow, Belphegor--I wouldn’t waste your sympathy on him.” - Belial, Page 466, Chain of Gold

“Azazel and Asmodeus have worked together, as have Belial and Leviathan, while Belphegor hates his brethren.” - Magnus, Page 441, Chain of Iron

“Belpehgor and Belial had ignored each other completely since they arrived, each refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence.” - Page 364, The Lost Book of the White

He only appears at the end of The Lost Book of the White, with brief mentions in both Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron.

Theories: Belphegor has an interesting power. The ability to open passages straight to Pandemonium. If he’s played right, he could lead all the demons back to that city. If not, he could take all the demons out of the city.

Good for us, he doesn’t work with his brothers. He really doesn’t like them, and now probably resents Belial for stealing his realm. I wouldn’t blame him, so Sammael is going to try his damndest to get his brothers to work together.

Belphegor also hates marriage, which could crop up in TBOVTD. By then, Malec will have been married for at least two years. (Eek!) And if he gets involved with them they’re going to have another problem. Thankfully, it took Magnus and Alec beating Sammael’s ass to have him believe in love, so Belphegor might not be as big a problem as we thought.

However, Sebastian Morgenstern’s flower card holds a skull similar to the one Belphegor has on his portrait, suggesting a connection between the two. It’s a far stretch, but we’ve learned never to rule anything out.

Leviathan

Leviathan (Often considered the demon of Envy)

Born a twin he murdered and ate his sister.

Leviathan is sometimes pictured as a serpent eating its own tail, considered the origin of ouroboros.

[Symbol of ouroboros . . . which was the symbol of the Pandemonium Club in Clockwork Angel . . . which has something to do with Mortmain.]

“In that day, the Lord, with his sore and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the slant serpent Leviathan the torturous serpent: and he will slay the dragon that is in the sea.” - Book of Isaiah

He claims he was the serpent in the Garden of Eden

One of the oldest Princes of Hell.

The only Prince of Hell who is not a fallen Angel - Leviathan was always a monster.

Leviathan represents the element of water.

He has no known eldest curses, but if he does, their warlock mark would probably be tentacles, as theorized in Chain of Iron.

He can sneak into anywhere with his tentacles, even very small places. That’s odd, considering the fact he is really massive.

Allied with Belial.

“Leviathan, the demon of envy, chaos, and the sea, who was monstrous and rarely summoned.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“Something surged out of the sea-foam--another tentacle, this one thrashing and alive. It was as big as a grown human and impossibly long, and as it reared back out of the waves, Thomas could see that its underside was covered with hundreds of hard, spiked barbs.” - Page 523, Chain of Iron

“They were a motley sort of crew, he had to admit, from Belial--appearing, as he most did, as a beautiful, pale-haired man--to Leviathan, who was more of a dark green serpent, with sleek scales and arms that could be charitably described as tentacle-adjacent.” - Page 363, The Lost Book of the White

He appears in both Chain of Iron and The Lost Book of the White, as well as being mentioned in Chain of Gold.

Theories: Leviathan has a high chance of showing up again in TLH. Allied with Belial, he can be called on anytime. The Shadowhunters did fight him off in Chain of Iron (this was in Cassandra Jean’s postcards released shortly before the book, pay attention to any official art for hints at Princes of Hell, especially in TWP) but he could come back. However, he is very large, and I don’t think Belial would think lightly of getting Leviathan back to help him.

The symbolism is high with the ouroboros symbol. This was the symbol of the Pandemonium Club from Clockwork Angel, who were involved with Axel Mortmain. This is loaded, especially when you consider Mortmain also had Belial involved with him, and now Belial wants to possess Tessa’s kids, who never would have existed had it not been for Mortmain’s little experiment. Leviathan could have some callbacks to TLH in TWP, especially as we learn more about his alliance with Belial. I wonder how they formed it, and also when Azazel and Asmodeus work together.

Leviathan does mess with the theory of all the Princes of Hell melding together, because has different origins. However, it’s totally possible that there could just be pieces of Lucifer inside of each Prince they have to get out and put together.

Mammon

Mammon, from the Aramaic Mamona meaning “wealth, profit”

When the rich do evil, they are almost always tempted by Mammon. He can also tempt the poor with promises of wealth.

[“Mammon being carried up from Hell by a wolf, coming to inflame the human heart with greed” - Thomas Aquinas]

(His diet consists of blood and gold.)

Mammon fell from Heaven when he tried to convince Lucifer that rather than remaining in divine service, the angels should use the wealth of Hell to control the universe.

Mammon is often pictured with many eyes, with which he searches for gold.

[‘No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.’ - Matthew 6:19]

((Runs Hell’s bank))

A ring is in the top left corner, with a sword on it. It appears to be made of gold.

No known eldest curses.

All we know about him is that he’s very possessive, from what I’ve observed. He represents what greed does to a person.

No known alliances.

“Mammon, the prince of greed and wealth, could be bribed with money and riches.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“Leviathan and Mammon had decided to sit in the same chair, each arguing it was the only cosmically large chair present and as the most sizable of the princes he deserved it more.” - Page 364, The Lost Book of the White

Mentioned in Chain of Gold and appears in The Lost Book of the White

Theories: I think he won’t do much. He’s the Prince of greed, so all we need to do is just give him some money, and he’ll be good. Plus, Mammon could still be fighting with Levithan over that stupid chair that he’ll forget he has to actually do things.

The challenge with Sammael trying to get these guys to work together is that they don’t want to. Leviathan and Mammon fought over a chair, Belial and Belphegor ignored each other, and Astaroth was very skeptical of the whole thing. I honestly hope that they do need to work together to get Lucifer, because we can avoid this whole mess just by having these guys try and work together. It will not turn out very good for them.

Although we have confirmation Hell has a bank . . . what do they do down there. Does this mean there’s a main Hell dimension, with Pandemonium at the center? This is an interesting question that needs to be answered.

Astaroth

(Also known as: Ashtaroth, Astarot, Asteroth, Great Duke of Hell)

If a magican approaches Astaroth with a blessed ring of silver bearing the Seal of Solomon, he will be protected from Astaroth’s deadly aura.

Astaroth can see the past, present and future from his realm.

The prince of accusers and inquisitors, associated with lawyers and misuse of the law.

“Asteroth is a great and strong Duke, coming forth in the shape of a foul angel, sitting upon an Infernal dragon and carrying on his right hand a viper.” - Pseudomonarchia Daemonium (Viper appears across the pages.)

After his fall from grace, his wings became those of an eagle.

Asteroth alone of the Princes of Hell believes he has been misjudged. If a warlock summons Asteroth, the demon will plead his case, explaining why he deserves to be reinstated as an angel.

((The demon of the month of August.))

On the page there is a pentagram, with his name around the edge.

No known eldest curses.

We know literally nothing about him except the fact he seems like the ultimate lawyer. Interestingly the word “inquisitor” was used to describe him . . .

No known alliances.

“Astaroth, who tempted men to bear false witness, and who took advantage of the grieving.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“If that’s the way it’s always been, then that’s the way it’s supposed to be,’ said Asteroth. There was nodding from the others.” - Page 364, The Lost Book of the White

Mentioned in Chain of Gold, appears in The Lost Book of the White

This guy is powerful, but we don’t know much about him. He just hasn’t showed up that much. Although I sense he could be important.

According to his page, Astaroth can see the future from his realm. First of all, that’s powerful. Second of all, I’ve theorized in the past that some dreams Clary, Magnus, and Kit have had are prophetic. Which means these dreams could come from Astaroth, who’s just been chilling in his realm. It’s very crackpot, but it could work.

Also, the “tempts men to bear false witness” part? We literally have the Mortal Sword from THULE, another realm, and we’re just using it as we would normally? Astaroth totally could mess with the truth-telling sword. He already might have. If Lilith can mess with Cortana, Astaroth can do this. That would also be a nice way to tie TWP back to TMI.

Azazel

Azazel: Forger of Weapons.

(name meaning: Scapegoat)

“The whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin.” - Book of Enoch 10.8

Associated with those on whom blame falls unfairly.

He taught mankind the invention and use of weapons, to raise up blades against each other. ((He was the whisper in the ear of Cain when he struck down Abel))

In punishment, he was bound to the rocks of Dudael, in the wilderness, where he will abide until the Day of Wrath.

And then we have Azazel, chained up, with a demonic symbol on his chest. The chains have left scars on his wrists. There’s a train ticket up in the left corner I think says Chicago.

No confirmed eldest curses, and it’s unlikely he has one

Azazel has been chained up on Dudael for a long, long time. If he gets free, we’re screwed. However, that looks unlikely, seeing as he is supposed to be released on the Day of Wrath. (Let’s ignore the fact that it was a chapter title in City of Ashes.)

Despite being chained up in another dimension, you can still summon Azazel. However, like Magnus, be prepared to have to deal with Azazel being stubborn, and not wanting to leave.

He also takes happy memories when you summon him, feasting on them, just like Asmodeus does. It’s very similar the way these two work.

Azazel can make demonically-aligned weapons. They are very powerful, so keep that in mind.

Allied with Asmodeus.

“Azazel, the forger of weapons who fell from grace when he gifted humans with the instruments of violence.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“He’s not a cat, Sylvester. He’s a Greater Demon. Lieutenant of Hell and Forger of Weapons. He was an angel who taught mankind how to make weapons, when before it had been knowledge only angels possessed. That caused him to fall, and now he is a demon.” - Magnus, Page 207, City of Lost Souls

“You may not be proud like old Faustus, warlock, but you are impatient. I am sure my willingness to remain in this pentagram will outlast your desire to keep watch over me inside it.” - Azazel, Page 235, City of Lost Souls

Appears in City of Lost Souls, mentioned in Chain of Gold, Chain of Iron, and then shows up again in The Lost Book of the White.

He’s the literal lieutenant of Hell, which might explain why he’s allied with Asmodeus.

Azazel is going to be put to work making weapons if they manage to summon Lucifer, I just know that.

If he gets from Dudael it’ll be around the time they get the Lucifer situation resolved. And when he shows up, all Hell will break lost.

Asmodeus

(Associated with the sin of lust and described as “the worst of demons”)

Also known as Ashmedi, the king of certain demonic spirits (the shedim & djinn)

He personally battled the angel Raphael after being cast out from Heaven.

It is said Asmodeus was bound to King Solomon and forced to do his bidding.

Loves gambing and runs all the gambling houses in Hell.

He is often called on by those seeking REVENGE

He is the demon of the month of November.

He hates water and birds because they remind him of God.

In the center of the page there is a thing of barbed wire.

(If I go on a rant about him, I’m sorry, but I HATE HIM.)

Asmodeus has one confirmed eldest curse, Magnus Bane. It’s hinted that he had a lot of other children, but barely any of them lived past 100 years.

Magnus, at 400 years old, is his pride in joy. In The Red Scrolls of Magic we saw Asmodeus trying to manipulate Magnus, and again in City of Heavenly Fire. (This also happened in the TV show which . . . heh heh it was not good. I felt so sorry for Magnus.)

Asmodeus is one of the smartest and most powerful Princes. He actually seems to be the only Prince who is serious most of the time. He doesn’t crack jokes, and is normally a silent, brooding figure.

Asmodeus had a demon-worshipping cult called the Crimson Hand, courtesy of Magnus. (Magnus made a joke cult and then chose Asmodeus as the demon it would worship to piss off his dad. It did not end well.) Asmodeus could have ended up appearing on Earth because of the cult . . . but he needed an immortal life to anchor him.

Although now he has that life. He took Simon’s immortality at the end of City of Heavenly Fire, as their price for going back to Earth. Strangely enough. Asmodeus hasn’t made any moves with it. He’s just sat there, with the immortal life in hand, not doing much of anything.

Asmodeus also feeds on emotions and memories. We’ve seen the way he acts, no wonder he’s so composed.

He alone of the princes respects Sammael and understands his plan on a deeper level. Asmodeus looks like someone who wants good ol’ Luci back.

Because of him, we know of the eldest curses. He brought up the idea in The Red Scrolls of Magic, and it seems his eldest curse is very near and dear to his heart. It’s like he plans to do something with Magnus, something big.

Every Prince of Hell has his own realm, and his is Edom, who he shares with Lilith. But he doesn't hang out there a lot because, according to him "it isn't exciting anymore!"

There exists an incantation his children can use to summon him, a twisted version of the Lord’s Prayer.

Allied with Azazel.

“Asmodeus, the demon of lust and rumored general of Hell’s army.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“I want to talk to my son. It has been almost two centuries since we last spoke, Magnus. You don’t call, you don’t make sacrifices on my altar. It wounds your fond parent.” - Asmodeus, Page 300, The Red Scrolls of Magic.

“I was a seraphim once, one of the angels indeed. Part of an innumerable company. Then came the war, and we fell like stars from Heaven. I followed the Light-Bringer down, the Morning Star, for I was one of his chief advisers, and when he fell, I fell with him. He raised me up in Hell and made me one of the nine rulers. In case you were wondering, it is preferable to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven--I’ve done both.” - Asmodeus, Page 621, City of Heavenly Fire

Appears in City of Heavenly Fire, The Red Scrolls of Magic, and The Lost Book of the White, mentioned in Chain of Gold and alluded to several times.

Theories: Asmodeus is going to use Simon’s immortal life. He has to. It’s just sitting there, and he must have a plan for it. This probably will be fully realized in The Black Volume of the Dead. Which is also one of the books in the Malec series.

Which means here comes my crackpot theory! I’ve mentioned before I think Magnus will get possessed by a demon . . . but what if Asmodeus has something to do with that? I doubt Asmodeus himself will possess Magnus; he’s way too smart for that. However, Asmodeus can easily use less powerful demons to mess with Magnus. He already manipulates him, what else could happen?

Just based on Asmodeus’s attitude towards Magnus, I feel like Magnus has a huge part to play in the upcoming demon war of TWP. (Need to re-read The Red Scrolls of Magic to figure out more, but what I have so far could be scraped into a decent theory.)

He’s also the general of Hell’s army, so that will show up again.

Sammael

The Serpent

Youngest of the nine Princes of Hell

Sammael, name meaning venom (or poison?) of God

It is believed he was the original serpent of the Garden of Eden and seduced Adam’s first wife Lilith. Later became his lover for many thousands of years.

He was the guardian of Esau and the patron demon of Rome.

There is a feather lying on his page.

No confirmed eldest curses, even if I have that headcanon Ragnor is actually his son and he ignores him. @patalliumapples came up with that one.

Sammael performed the ritual that weakened the wards with Lilith, also known as the Incursion. Without him, there would be no Shadowhunters.

After that, he wandered around in the void. (FYI I will now call him Johnny Appleseed because that is my nickname for him and I can't look at his picture without thinking “Johnny Appleseed”)

Johnny Appleseed came back, and with it, gained the Sventhorn. Johnny then used it to take Shinyun and Ragnor in his service. Those two tried to get Magnus into his service, stabbing him twice with the sword. Magnus was able to get out of being absorbed into his magic by Alec’s sacrifice. (This is why I love Alec.)

Johnny is now wanting to summon Lucifer, partly as a way to get Lilith back, and partly as a way to raise Hell.

No known alliances.

“There was Sammael, the first to loose demons upon the Earth.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold

“I know we don’t talk much,” - Sammael, Page 363, The Lost Book of the White

“I’m really much more the waterfalls-of-blood, abstract-sculpture-of-viscera type.” - Sammael, Page 300, The Lost Book of the White

Mentioned in several books, like Chain of Gold, City of Fallen Angels, and appears in The Lost Book of the White

His next move is to summon Lucifer. He needs to herd cats, AKA get the other Princes to work together. And I think he might be able to do that.

Lucifer

9 - Hell from beneath is moved for three to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the Earth; it hath raised up from their throne all the kings of the nations.

10 - All they shall speak and say unto three, art thou also become weak as we? Art thou become like unto us?

11 - Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread unto three, and the worms cover thee.

12 - How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nation!

13 - For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into Heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God

14 - I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most high

15 - Yet thou shalt be brought down to Hell, to the sides of the pit

16 - They that see thee shall narrowly look on thee, and consider thee, saying, is this man that made the Earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms

17 - That made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities there of; that opened the house of his prisoners?

18- All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house.

19 - Thou shalt not be joined with them in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land, and slain thy people: the seed of evildoers shall never be renowned.

A splatter of blood lies on the page. A shadow across a throne.

No confirmed eldest curses.

Little is known, except we have confirmation of existence, and he ruled with the other Princes. But where did he go?

The Morgenstern is associated with him.

No known alliances.

“And lastly, of course, there was Lucifer, the leader of the archangels, the most beautiful of any prince, the leader of the rebellion against Heaven.” - Page 277, Chain of Gold.

“Of course, if you’d bothered to think about it, you’d think it a little strange that the symbol of the Wayland family would be a falling star. So I had to take precautions . . . I forget how regrettably lax mundane education is. Morgenstern means ‘morning star’ As in How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nation!” - Valentine, Page 446, City of Bones

“Nous serviam. It’s what Lucifer had inscribed on his banner when he rode with his host of rebel angels against a corrupt authority.” - Valentine, Page 258, City of Ashes

“Yes. I want to talk about Lucifer.” - Sammael, Page 365, The Lost Book of the White

Anything could happen with the Prince. For this theory section, I implore you to come up with your own theories based on the Bible verses above. Tell me what you think will happen when this Prince comes back to rule as a king.

So this is the post. Thank you for reading my 4779 words that involved me going slightly insane.

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thisispaladinbehavior · 3 years

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Guess I might need one of these now?? Find me on AO3 @ inevitablemeow.

Fic List as of 08/25/2022, listed in order of publication:

cast no shadow, no waters reflect: M. 3,217 words. SteveBucky. how do I even explain this one??? gore and body horror tho

and from my lungs bloom tulips: E. 11,323 words. SteveBucky. Hanahaki Disease AU, pining, angst, some gore.

cut open my sternum and pull (my little ribs around you): E. 14,323 words. SteveBucky. Getting together, black nail polish, love confessions.

a thousand times bucky says i love you: G. 1,797 words. SteveBucky. Angst & Fluff, love confessions, terrible use of Russian.

let me sleep, i am tired of my grief: E. 19,157 words. SteveBucky. A ghost story, soul mate adjacent, AU.

every season of my life i've been yours, my love, every spring through every winter: E. 9,925 words. SteveBucky. A lifetime of love, love confessions, reunions, Pre- and Post-War.

why are we always stuck and running (from the bullets, the bullets): E. 12,272 words. SteveBucky. Established relationship, old men super-soldiers, retirement, Daddy kink.

but it feels like there's oceans between you and me: E. 3,521 words. SteveBucky. Love confessions, angst, Post-Civil War, happy ending.

as the earth burns to the ground (oh, boy, it's you that i lie with): E. 10,167 words. SteveBucky. Pre- and Post-War, Bucky remembers, Bucky recovering, established and re-established relationship.

there is a house built out of stone: E. 4,747 words. SteveBucky. Post-Civil War, not canon compliant, homecoming, Brooklyn, fluff and angst, hopeful ending.

what could i have said to raise you from the dead?: E. 13,247 words. SteveBucky. Post-Civil War, not canon compliant, graphic violence, major injury, angst very little comfort, love confessions, happy ending.

i don’t know where we’re going but god it’s a start: T. 1,657 words. Not SteveBucky. Silver Kiss by Annette Curtis Klause. Simon/Zoe. Vampires, young love, choosing each other, hopeful ending.

tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more: E. 51,213 words. SteveBucky. Vampire AU need I say more.

pretty baby you have me (so weak): E. 10,605 words. SteveBucky. post-canon, kink discovery, daddy kink, sub Bucky, filth, so much sap and love and ew it's sticky candy sweet.

maybe you'll think of me (when you are all alone): E. 3,904 words. NOT STEVEBUCKY IM SORRY. Fallout 4, John Hancock/Male Sole Survivor. love confessions, explicit sexual content, sex right there in the dirt because they love each other your honor

haven't felt like this my dear since, can't remember when: G. 935 words. SteveBucky. Tenderness, devotion, existing in their own little bubble of cosmos unbothered. Canon-divergent but post-canon. Love. Nothing but love.

i've seen my share of trouble and i've held my weight in shame: T. 4,166 words. SteveBucky. Fluff, carved hearts, canon divergence as of Civil War, I guess canon divergence in general, Bucharest. So much love.

because a good man nowadays is hard to find: T. 2,871 words. John Hancock/Male Sole Survivor. They're BACK, Nate and his murder boyfriend. Prequel to the previous fic, pre-relationship, rad storm.

we don't stop but the time do (lovers in another life let me remind you): E. 11,027 words. SteveBucky. AU - Shrunkyclunks, first meeting, Daddy kink, just a taste of biker Bucky, porn with feelings.

depollute me pretty baby (suck the rot right out of my bloodstream): E. 7,236 words. SteveBucky. Asexuality, Bucky Barnes recovering, memory recovery, re-establishing relationship. And love. All the love.

you taught me the courage of stars before you left: E. 13,763 words. SteveBucky. Canon Divergence. Vormir. Endgame break and Endgame fix. Happy ending, after all the pain.

je te laisserai des mots en-dessous de ta porte: G. 2,225 words. SteveBucky. Canon fix-it in a way, Wakanda, short and sweet, erasing the Words. They're so in love.

and i will know, though soft ye tread above me (and then my grave will richer, sweeter be): E. 31,095 words. SteveBucky. Hanahaki Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, so much angst, it's all angst, but it's fine in the end I swear.

come and find me in the valley (down in the deep green, i'll wait for you): E. WIP. SteveBucky. cottagecore fic 2022 MY BELOVED. Domestic as fuck, year in the life, fluff and smut and angst and more fluff. A damn good soup.

i wanna hold you my dear forever, and ever (i love you so much it hurts me so): E. 5,939 words. SteveBucky. Blood pacts as an oath of forever. Angst with a happy ending. Childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. There’s blood in this idk how else to say it.

#inevitablemeow #masterlist #will update as i go!#stevebucky fic #fallout 4 fic #im a multifandom author now i guess #welcome to my hell #thank you all for being just so damn cool

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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Harry Styles x Barista!Reader.

Smut, pain kink and over-stimulation.

Mentions of past trauma and healing!

MASTERLIST, LETS TALK LOVIES!

Author's note: Your reblogs and appreciations means alot to me, token me a smile with your love.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Y/N has a phobia for needles and Harry's her damsel in distress.

Something about bungalows not having stairs makes Y/N's cheeks puffs out in disappointing amazement. The fact she couldn't even climb at the rooftop when the summer sky's ornamented with cosmic stars twinkling with the each buzz of music from inside. She hiccups a giggle when the cool zephyr blew her frock away giving out a glimpse of her itty-bitties, glad no-one's in the diameter to have a show. The discernment falls to nothingness when she hears distinct rustle of someone behind the fat‐very-rooty-tree, it widens her eyes into saucers as she blinks comically.

It's not a squirrel she could tell. Couldn't be Ronny who went to take a wee cause all the darn washrooms inside were occupied and his bladder being the weakest, he went for a bush.

But, that bush's behind her and for a moment she forgot her friend even existed since she muted out his piss taking whistle a while ago.

All her frenzied assumptions fails when two figures camouflaged in the darkness tumbles from behind the tree. Her cheeks splashes with burning crimson when they separate with a loud, wet kissing noise and the two men doesn't seem any shy about it unlike Y/N who's foozling the frill of her dress as if she got caught in the middle of a fuck in public loo. Not that, it everrr happened with her, still she has an example set for such incidents.

"Oh, hi." The warble of unprevious voice wins in gaining her attention and she tries to squint through the pocosin of his eyes which glimmers under moonlight if she glances away too quick, she startles in her spot when a gruff voice speaks over them, "Ronny couldn't even occupy a shot of vodka in his bladder." She couldn't seem to flit her gaze away from his cherry of lips glistening from whatever activities they were having before (the only features she could see in such illumination) as the other guy and Ronny bantered off passing a cig in between them.

"Oi, shut up will ya." Ronny locks his arm with Y/N and she flinches that he hasn't even washed them yet, "c'mon truffles we don't wanna be here." He announces dragging her away and the humid air around them bubbled with chuckles.

"Huh." She quips all lost between the interaction and accidentally bumping into two beautiful men kissing eachother, she's totally jealous! Poor thing tries to jerk the mud from her toes and to have a last glimpse of the man with marble irirses.

"D'ya think I've a chance with that daddy-long- legs-one? Dunno, but he intimidates me so bad." Ronny whispers to her and she frowns sniffing with her already runny nose from being a bit tipsy, it's making her bouncy little by little and she knows the bevvys she had will have a full swing within the night, "why? He seems nice."

"His hotness truffles, it intimidates me." He scrapes his already chipped nail polish after washing his hands from the basin throwing towel at her face, she just sighs putting it back in the rack.

"How about you talk to him first." Parties has teeny perks of them and gigantic disadvantages 1) Ronny gets a school crush at every boy he looks at. 2) They get more sweaty, stinky, gluey and more wilder till the clock hits 4 am. Honestly, even if it wasn't for the free bevys she would have never stepped in.

"That's the hard part." They push people aside like stuffies getting cursed and groped in return.

"He's not gonna know himself, Ron, you dump-stick." Good she doesn't need to yell like before as the music has dimmed to a hum possibly about to shut down within minutes. Halting, beside some people crowded alongside the couch some sitting on it and their confused heads shots up at first at the sound of familiar vibrations.

The worst scenarios of someone having a bullet up in their hole and peeps around having a show passes for a mere sec in their heads, together, that's why they're friends since the first semester of UNI.

But, upon seeing what's the ruckus about Ronny shakes his head in utmost panic, "oh no . ." He tries to escape from her grip but she tugs him from collar, "Please Ronny, swear 'm ready to over come my fear! Nothing's gonna happen to me." They stand beside the guy sheepishly (like two elementary kids deciding who'll step inside the staff room first) a gun perched in his hand and Y/N realizes that he indeed's the same guy she met outside, this time she could see him properly and those hickorey of curls brushing the eternity of his popping clavicles.

His back to them but she could see the flex of his muscles from under the sheer black of his shirt with the each movement he does with his gun, she admits that he got prettier back than her.

"Ey Harry this's my friend Y/N and she wanna overcome her phobia of needles, be a damsel in distress pal." So, they know eachother. The whizz of gun stops midway and he dismisses the drunk dude under him tilting his chin to meet her eyes, and it was worth it as it took tiny gasp from her.

He's way beautiful than he was in the darkness.

Ronny was right. It daunts her a bit. The name Harry itself is some kind of royalty.

"Oh, hi there, again." He greets her with a warm smile and it glitter-glittery her insides, will you please not she scolds herself. It's probably the alchol her subconscious assures her but her nervousness from the idea of really doing this says otherwise.

"Have a seat, love." Oh holy goodness. He's as sober as judge and she at whole is miffed.

Harry isn't a popular senior. No. His charm's something that woos everyone and his name's always on the top list of invites, he avoids them though unless it's his closest friend. Him remaining to himself has casted a spell on everyone that his personality's intimidating and he's this sex god who has an only concern with fucking people.

He could be called a nerd from his grades everytime being higher than last semester but his attire and being a shining star of the Christmas tree gives it away.

Everyone likes him, ah-ah no everyone absolutely loves him. The thing's he has never felt the same in his twenty-one years of life and that's a fat bummer.

He just gives that "please stay away from me" aura, brows always sewn together and bottom lip jutted makes him appear rather passive aggressive to strangers (well the people who knows him loves him for being the most chill person walking around them).

Right now, he got a tat gun in his hand and everyone's getting a drunk tattoo for the remembrance of this stupid party or just that they've a kink for pain, possibly for humiliation too because what could a tattoo gotten in an unconscious state could bring you?

"Y'alright there?" He asks her and she bobs her head clamping her hands shut in her lap. The rainbow broch on his loafers intrigues her about his fashion senses, it makes her jealous she can't afford to have her own style, "Yeah!" She avoids to even give a spare glance to the gun in his hand because she knows the moment she'd, it will make her dizzy.

She feels bad for cliff hanging him to herself only but he doesn't seem to mind at all. Waits patiently for her to guard herself as Ronny pats her back like she's about to summo wrestle.

"Want me to start it?" He knows how bad it's for some people. Many times he had an encounter with weak hearted persons who got dragged into his parlour by their friends and ended up running away, "Can you give me a moment?" She lifts her head towards him and it makes his forehead knit into concerned lines.

The poor bug's giving a purple face as if she's about to throw up and her ears pink.

"Take all y'want, darlin'." His gentleness flows over her head, she thinks that the music has died or she has gone deaf, can't be neither, cause no-way that such a sweet call wouldn't make her toes all gooey.

"'M ready!" She puffs out a huge exhale moving her shaking wrist nearer to his grasp and he gives her a comforting look before wrapping his fingers one by one around her delicate wrist, skidding the stool he's been sitting on closer to her, "al'ight truffles 'ere we go — wouldn't hurt promise." He decides to stick with truffles since Ronny calls her with the nickname everytime he's at Harry's. Thought his blabbers of his friend were exaggerated coating of sugar but when she's sitting infront of him with those glinting eyes and soft flesh in which his lanky fingers seems to turn pudgy, he gets it why he calls her that.

He keeps on glancing up at her to see if she's okay — she has her hand placed atop Ronny's thigh while he distracts her with his "let's throw shade at mean bitches together" game and Harry just hovered the nib of it over her skin when she passed out but Ronny quickly placed his palm against her cheek to pull her back towards his shoulder.

"'M good . ." She comes back from it with a weak whsiper-y voice trying to straighten up but the instant her already blurry vision falls at the needle again making a line so small it isn't even visible she passes out again and this time Ronny seems unfazed talking to a girl beside him (trust the lad they've done it multiple times but the pain and fear of needles never let her have a single tattoo inked on her skin), leaving Harry to sweat over her.

Sighing he shuts down the machine putting it aside and presses the back of his hand against her forehead --- to be more appropriate, and when she remains as if in the land of nod completely knackered out and woolly in Ronny's arms he realizes that she has passed out for real.

"Truffles?" He doesn't get a response from her.

She puffers out her lips blowing raspberries gazing at the sunny sky from the clear glazed window of the shop, chin resting in the softness of her palm as the cosy hall of it emptied from the rush the time it striked noon. The start of her shift's always effete and warm with honey-bees buzzing over the pots of pastel flowers outside, but the evenings are most tiresome and she has to do the closing in a grumpy mood.

"Can you pass me the icing tube, forgot it under the counter shelf 'cos of that pain in ass customer." He's their regular. Has constant complaints that their tarts are too sugary and they need to thicken the formula for their lattes, Y/N just bobs her head at his tantrums finding a way to shoo him away with a promise of next time, "yeah uhh — " Gripping the edge of marble counter she squats down and giggles at herself as she looks funny with her knees making a tent of her ruffle frock.

The door-bell chimes indicating the presence of someone but she goes for her rampage knowing Cora's there to attend them and she was about to pull her head back when she hit it quite painfully against the upper shelf, "Ow!!" She squeaks rubbing the sore spot stabling herself while Cora chuckled taking the tube from her hand to go inside.

She never expected someone to occur at this hour, moreso, she never expected someone like him to pop out of nowhere at their shop. He just doesn't seem like a person to have a merry making at little cosy cafés all to himself, it's been driving her crazy, she cringes at herself everytime when the humiliation of passing out infront of him invades her thoughts.

Half of her heart wanted to see him again and other half was glad she never bumped in him — but seems like nature was evily against her.

"Oops hi!" When she couldn't fiddle with anything she adjusts her frilly apron and with her wrist brushes her loose tresses away which her bow failed to keep. He blinks for several times sipping in the consequence, though it gives her time to take in his appearance.

He's yet again, wearing a sheer shirt with white flower buds spiraling from his abs towards the broad of his chest displaying his inked skin underneath beautifully — it shimmers every time he shifts on his feet letting the sunlight fall on him. His curls tamed and silkier than before, he groomed himself too good it puts Y/N to shame for being a girl, a careless one.

"You work here?" He asks with a drawl as if he has a all the time to dedicate to her, "nope just broke in to do a fat robbery — wanna join?" He cackles, hard it quelled his tummy and it also made her smile blushy-ly that he didn't find her humour boring.

"Okie . . S' what you'll have?" Brassing the belly of his nose he clears his throat roaming his eyes to catch a perfect spot, "'s okay if'll be waitin' fo' someone there?" He points at the nook aligned with the fuchsia coloured book shelves, wooden pots hanging and embroidered throw pillows piled and some overflowing from the love seats.

"Totally!!" She chirps. The thought of him waiting for a date sinks summat a tiny globe of mud in her stomach and dunno why — She wishes she could've things that other people have without burning themselves in effort unlike her.

She watches him getting comfortable, scrutinising around with curious and adorable big peepers. He'd give her a shy smile everytime he'd catch her staring and she'd just shake her head treating her back to track, that he's on a date, but not with you.

She didn't forgot to ask him if he needs anything putting a glass of water at his coffee table without him requesting, it's perpetually hot and even her throat'd get dry after some minutes. He's been here for two hours and even though the weather cooled down spotting pearly drops of rain, perspiration still beaded at his forehead.

The bustle of on goers kept on dying and she feels bad for him, knowing the end of it, she's been there before many times. Even visualised it at this same shop far more she should thinking the world's kind enough to even let their date know with q single message.

Sensing his timorousness she paddles towards him getting a coconut cookie from the jar, onto the plate and sliding it in his line of vision. He seems flustered — everytime they've interacted she's the one to be not in one place and now he's ripping the threads of his tattered skinny jeans.

"You can munch on this cookie, if you want to!" He looks back and forth between the cookie and her, fuziness spreading in his chest glad at her kindness and enough trust in him to not to kick him out, "Thank you." He grabs it taking a bite and she giggles when in the single one he left no crumbs behind, his mouth's big, shut it already! and so pink so pulpy, oh my goodness I hate youuu!!

"'M sure your friend's on way, it's rainy, might —" He cuts her off with a dissapointed spurt of breath, "dunno." He sulks into sofa folding the corner of book's page.

"You still've an hour till the cáfe closes, don't loose hope!" She pats his shoulder and he gives her a weak smile doing that bunny scrunch of his nose, combing his already wrecked hair and thanks her for the next thousand time.

Harry had worst dates. This seems to top them. To be honest because of Y/N being here. What will she think? What if she thinks it's his fault? That he's a broken dummy who nobody wants to date? He wants to grumble and call his date to end things but he waits patiently as the sky turned lilacs of night.

Y/N feels remorseful and angry at the person who stood him up this pathetically. With a sad sigh she turns the closed sign to display outward silently looking at him while he's in his own trance, she disappears into the kitchen and Cora gives her a knowing eye.

"Not believing in love's my greatest descion up till far. It's impossibly hard out there." She retorts. Placing a hot chicken steak atop the alfredo pasta and sprinkles parsiman making it appetizing, "Tell him to better end things with a pig like them." She says in all seriousness handing the tray to Y/N.

He's there. Gazing outside with lips pressed into a thin line and he seems down with his loose errand of curls tucked into a man bun now, a perfect hairdo outta frustration "Harry." She keeps her voice low not to startle him gaining his attention.

"You didn't have to." He shakes his head and she made a noise un-recognized by him putting the tray on the table and moves the ottoman with her feet closer to him sitting on it, "let's be eachother's date for a day." She hands him a fork and he accepts gladly. His sulkiness wooshing away when she digs in taking a bite and smearing the sauce all over her lips.

"If you don't mind me asking, is it the same behind-the-tree guy?" He nods. She frowns spitting grumpily, "what a prat." With the help of knife she tears the steak equally sliding it to his side and he smiles boyishly sucking the corner of his lip inside.

"'M sorry, Harry." She squeezes his knee and it bundles up the air in his lungs, "'s okay truffles — glad you were there fo' a rescue."

"Y/N." She tells him forwarding her hand to shake and he slips his calloused ones to envelop her warmth. His cheeks turns pink when his stomach made noises of starvation, "you need to eat c'mon!" She nudges his elbow and he obliges.

After, filling their tummies satisfied and full she hands him a cuppa of latte with a foamy sleeping kitty floating over it she even made two eyes and the uwu kitty smile with the cocoa powder, "pardon me if it seems like I murdered the poor thing . . . 'm still learning from Cora." His giggles were absolutely amazed and gleeful.

"It looks so good, I don't feel like stirin' it." He pats the bum of steamed floffy kitty with the curve of his tea spoon and it makes her giggle some. Relishing onto strawberry pastries and crumpets oozed into butter, sipping onto their lattes, watching the sky turning dark with the rain while Cora left them hours ago to themselves.

She puts a velvet cloak around herself after closing the shop and Harry waits for her as she takes her bicycle, "Thank ye' Y/N. 'S kind of you." He stirs his gaze from his shoes to her face smiling brightly at her and she waves him off with blushy cheeks, they walk along under the shelters of sideways shops avoiding to get soaked while she holds the steering of her bicycle.

"You can lounge at my place, till the rain stops." When he shakes his head she quips turning into the street, "I insist." They stop infront of the old white sculptured building having two floors in total.

The first thing she does entering into her flat's greet Tofu (it's a Bush-tit a white furball with two curious tich button eyes) leaving Harry to get out of his shoes and slip into her house ones (they barely fits him -- making him chuckle at the size difference).

His eyes giving a beautiful glimmer under the glow of the yellow light as he looks around the space, it's simple, with a bedding on wooden floor, a circle shelf against the window lined up with green plants, a desk opposite to it and a golden standing cage of her pet bird.

"Hi bubba missed me much?" She opens the cage to let it out and the chonky white bird sits on her fingers happily, "Harry meet Tofu." His lips curve upward at the lil thing as he caress it's fluffy head.

"Tofu looks like a snowball." He muses with bambi eyes and she agrees with excitement, "Sometimes I wanna squish him, cause he's just too cute." His eyes widens comically laughing softly at her statement.

"Evil thought said out aloud with cuteness still remains evil, love." Tofu hoped over Harry's finger and he takes him towards his shoulder making it sit there but he has another plans, to rest his furry bum over Harry's head making both of them giggle, "c'mon now birdy time to fill your tummy." She tip-toes to catch him in her palms and knocks her nose with Harry's in the way.

"Make yourself home!" She announces going to feed her pet and Harry flops onto her bed quite comfortably with his sweny legs stretched wide over the floor. They watched episodes of 'Bridgeton' wounded under her blankets and she almost fell asleep when he offered her genuinely.

"I'll help ye' have a tattoo, tiny atleast."

"Means alot to me." She yawns pondering with lug brain whether to snuggle into him or not, she did anyways. In the morning she was woken up by cold sheets and beeps of messages from Harry that made her feel she endured wings of fairy and she's bathing in the glitter of happiness.

She stares at the shop infront of her in amazement. It's friday night. She winded up all her assignments and came to this place exactly how it was mentioned in the address, when she enters inside spare teens and a bulky man was waiting outside the office thing-y . . .? Y/N presumes — an assistant chewing loudly on her gum talking onto phone with someone in hushed bratty tone and when Y/N knocks at the counter her piercing stare startles her a bit.

"Yes?" How rude! Y/N thinks with a pouty lip at her striking tone and she clears her throat, "'m here to meet . . . Harry." The snarky assistant rolls her eyes dismissing Y/N quickly to move back to her lazying, "He's busy." Y/N picks her finger to interject murmuring something under her breath and strolls back to wait with everyone.

Sun sets outside shimmering evening pink inside the lobby and the door atlast opens making her head perk up, "pet?" He looks sternly to his assistant but she doesn't seem fazed.

"Harry." Y/N grins, "Fo' how long you've been here?" She feels good someone's caring for her even though it's just for the fact she waited some hours for him, "doesn't matter can 've a tour?" He nods and the bratty assistant eyes him furiously taking Y/N's hand to lead her.

Harry watches her with dimply smile when she babbles at the details of his working station, "do I sit here?" She asks excitedly and he shakes his head, "yes, you may." They scrutinise through his sketches of designs together and she squeezes his wrist.

"Harry you're so talented! Look at 'em." He never felt this flustered with the compliments before button nose scrunching adorably. She chooses a a small plain jamsine flower nothing more, nothing less watching collect things for the process, "it's one of me mama's favourite." He exclaims rather proud snapping the latex gloves round his wrist.

"Where d'ya want it?"

"Where it hurts less." She replies wiping the sweat away with her frock, "it's outer shoulder, yer arm, calves and arse — " His mischievous grin awfully stretchy and she she slaps his bicep playfully.

"Outer shoulder?" She tells him confused to herself. He agrees strolling his stool near to her as she turns her back to him; his fingertips twitches when he pushes her hair to the side.

"Can you uh . . mm." She groans trying to reach for the zipper of her frock and he smoothes down his erratic heartbeat muttering, "yeah sure." She digs her nails into the delicate flesh of her palms when his calloused cold knuckles brushed deliberately against her skin while skimming the zip down slowly. Her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings when he slides her sleeve down her arm revealing her shoulder and it's so supple that Harry had to come back from his reverie; lick his lips to moisture.

He applies the numbing cream and she hisses softly the leather of seat sticking to her calves, her nerves jumbles and body startles when Harry starts the gun without warning her.

He loops his arm around her waist atop her thigh massaging it assuringly — sure it did nothing but to make her core throb insatiably as his rasp melted in her ears, "you're okay puppy." She gulps saying no word feeling her body getting hot at the each stroke of his thumb over her waist line.

"Ah -- Harry." She gasps out of air grasping his hand tightly at the sting of pain. She's baffled at the reactions of her body, her panties getting wet and the displeasing constant pricking of needle quenching out noises she never thought she was able to give out. When she whines and squirms Harry presses her down with force shushing her, "bug just a mo' it's smaller and would be done in seconds." She kisses her teeth bobbing her head vigorously and Harry chuckles at her effort remaining polite.

"Done!" He announces pulling away to admire it and when he hears the lil sniffles he quickly leaves everything sitting infront of her on the seat, "darlin' don't like it when ye' cry." He wipes her tears away not even glancing at her exposed collarbones and the plump flesh of her tits barely covered with her arm.

Soft and squishy, soft and squishy, soft and squishyyyyy.

His mind screams but her whimpery voice distracts him, "'m just gleeful that I've a tattoo because of you." He wraps it up expertly and zips her dress back with ever gentleness, "happy tears then?" She giggles with a grateful nod.

"Want a hug?" He thinks she deserves one for being brave and nice against her fear, "cuddle me up." She murmurs with swollen eyes and peachy cheeks. Uff — it stirs his cock in his jeans arousing the need to be with her everytime.

He rests his chin mushily into the crook of her neck swarming his arms around her waist to squeeze her warmly and she snuggles against his throat, damp lips puckering against his adam apple making it bob.

He feels jammy to be able to have a moment like this with her.

"Chinese takeout?" He collects his sketch journals, his phone, fedora apparently, keys of his motorbike and a spare helmet for her, "Yes please!"

They ate the take out perched against his bike with the meadow vast laying feet aways from them, under the breezy sky they conversed and Harry already got a tender spot for her in his heart. He never reaches to a stage where he could get to know someone with this passion and Y/N isn't from someone who'd guard herself from him just because his father was in the bad business.

As the evening brisked with cool dew of summer grass Harry leaned into her more and more.

He finds her little things infatuating, her bonding with Tofu and her dire wish to make good bum steamed kitties on the lattes, she has an irrefutable love for floral dresses and her homely habbit is doing ribbon work.

She got to know that Harry owns the tattoo shop, teaches few blokes the skill of it in free hours. He'ad attended lots of parties raving ones and the boring ones of higher socials, never lets any stranger step inside his loft which's situated upstairs of his shop. His father does all the criminaly things, he's this master mind in doing the evil things for people from getting money out of their enemies yada yada and Harry despises him for it, moreso, that he left them. He doesn't want to be associated with him in any case — he's none like him, he's kind and soft-hearted like his mother.

Y/N loves his goofy side. The one that cracks jokes and puns -- makes her fall in love with him without her even trying.

Last and foremost he has the render love for sheer shirts — told her he has shimmery ones for the fancying off.

"S'm no stranger then." She quips beside his shoulder as Harry unlocked his home's door. He glances her timidly amicably hovering over her lips, "absolutely not, yeh me bezzy." He raises his fist and she bumps it giggling.

Y/N that night sleeping on his bed dreamt of them laying together into the pillows of growing daffodils of meadow, lining up the stars in the sky and tell each other what they made ----- galloping rabbit, a slipping cake and she'd laugh with ugly snorts when Harry tells her that he sees a massive dick.

His grin proud and mellow to make his bezzy laugh. She squeaks when he pulls her onto him but soon her dreamboat sinks as she stirs at the warmth swallowing her whole.

She startes from her blurrines at something trapping her down till she recognizes the familiarity of two mascular arms sewn around her waist and what the fuck?

Harry made a makeshift pallet on the floor and right now she's all over him, pressed tightly against his chest — her cheeks turns red with embarrassment from being this clumsy and falling over him in her sleep.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Taking her face out of his neck she admires the softness of his features when he's asleep and the dotting of beautiful moles, sighing a huge relaxed puff of breath and canoodles into him like an affection starved kitty.

It's another cool rainy day and Y/N keeps on swabbing the droplets of water off from her eyes with her elbow trying to paddle her bicycle. She was on her way to Harry's when the skies betrayed her. Standing on his doormat she soaks it completely waiting for him to answer the door, sad, that her gift was ruined too.

"Lovin' ye'll catch a cold – shit come inside." Concerned he ushers her inside his loft, halts in his tracks when she remains behind adoring a gruffy pout, "what is it?" He asks walking to her and cups her cheeks the instant.

"Embroidered ye' a shirt 's destroyed now." She raises it to show him and he stares it for good seconds before swiping her off the floor – hugging her to radiate the sentiment of endearment he carries for her in his heart. It bloats her cheeks pressed against his clavicles and her feet dangles as he sways them with a happy noise of favourite melody she's unfamiliar with, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He kisses her temple and it lingers at the tip of his tongue.

I could kiss you right fuckin' now, pet.

"Harry you got wet too, dummy!!"

"Oops, guess we both have to change now."

Harry already set mixers for her on the luke points so that she wouldn't have to pull out her hair just to take a shower (his shower's quite complicated) leaves his shirt and boxers for her on his bedside, putting the lilac sheer shirt she embroidered for him in the dryer.

When she comes outside with trippy hair he already has two glasses of wine filled and windows closed to keep her warm.

She isn't a wine person. She was never able to afford it and it never settled with her tummy (she shares too much and feels bubbly with the rose coloured bevvy). Harry's gaze rakes from floor to her ankles snapping directly to her face and it's just snoggles his heart with fondness, seeing her drooled in one of his shirts.

"Need ya not to worry ye'r gift is good as before." He assures her and she flops onto the sofa beside him, "Thank you Y/N." He says genuinely and she waves him with small smile, "hush you."

They drink in silence, then soon it rośed their cheeks and noses making them giggly and floaty. A bottle gone in just a span of a time. She rumbles her lips stretching out, the twinkle of her belly showing and he does the same, eyeing him she slides down on the floor perching her elbow over the coffee table and YET AGAIN HE FOLLLOWS HER ACTIONS.

"Are you mimicking me?" She squints at him and he squints back, "are ye' mimickin' meh?" She smacks his bicep playfully and when he does the same though the force of it lighter than her's adoring mischievous grin making her squeal with chuckles, "Harry!"

He quips back in equal girlish pitch, "Harry!" blinking peepers up at her softly — to test her fates, the recipe of her drunken state and her heart bursting with affection for him she jests at him.

"I like you and might be falling in love with you." She says without holding back a breath and his eyes widen in an animated way chin slipping from his palm, "You what?" He's in utter shock. He has never come across the words she just said with so much delicacy and sincerity — it boggles him to an extent his tongue got tied.

"Say it back now, huh?" She smirks at him shaking from inside counting on to get rejected and ridiculed. Upset at herself more than him at his lack of response, clearing her throat she whispers.

"So — " But, her apology strucks in her throat when he pulls her to himslef with a gentle grip to her elbow. Grabs her jaw tenderly and with the ardent boldness smushes his lips against her's to seal his affinity for her in a kiss that's so soft it melts her inside. His hands brews at her sides and glides up to their destination, to cup her cheeks and deepen the kiss while billowing her in his lap comfortably. He devours the plumness of her lips, tracing the curve of her bottom one with his warm tongue and kisses the corner of her lips again and again making her puff out air from her nostrils.

He has kissed people and it was always to lead something to satisfy the cavity of loneliness, but this, this already feels like home sitting infront of the Autunm fire eating cookies and drinking milk. She feels like the mold he's meant to melt into and explore every ridge of it.

She doesn't not know what's filthier the string of spit that's connecting them or his raspberry lips that she could kiss and kiss for forever, he doesn't stop there pecks her several times with lil smooches, "You're really good at it." She winds her arms tight around the nape of his neck murmuring against him (she wants to make him feel appreciated), his cock chubbing up in his trousers and it lulls her head against his cheek upon feeling it. The thought of having him hard for her boasts the genitilty in herself and she kisses his smiling mouth.

"Wanna make ye' feel good." He presses his lips back against her's with more passion than before and tips her chin with his thumb to stamp lil pecks down her throat feeling his lips tingling to kiss her again, it's way better than he envisioned. Her softness could swallow him and the thought makes his hips stutter imagining his hard prick sucked inside her swelled up walls. His large calloused hands meander down her bottom taking the ripeness of it in a bunch of squeeze.

"On the bed." He pats her bum pinching it playfully and she squeaks obliging him giggles when she bounces over the bed. Him crawling behind her as lion ready to feast over a hare.

Leaning against the head of the bed he lays her between his wide spread legs, her back against his chest and their fronts facing the tall framed mirror infront of them.

"Comfy?" She bobs her head gulping cause no one has ever cared what'll be consuming for her and what not, "I want ye' to look in the mirror sweet girl, at us." He rasps in her ear stroking the hilt of her jaw in continuous circles and when she hums fluttering her eyelids, arching her back at the throb of her pussy and his dirtiness making her slick down to her bum he glides his thumb inside her mouth telling her to, "get 'em proper wet for me." She does coating his thumb with her saliva and flicking her tongue over it many time while he glazes his palms over her ribs, under the crescent of her tits shirt pulled to her collarbones.

She gags around his digit when he took her perky nipple in between his middle and index pulling it then kneads it with a kiss to her earlobe getting her out of his boxers telling her, "enough, pet." When she doesn't listen to him and kept on sucking thinking of his cock in her mouth he gruffs splitting her thighs apart and pressing the soles of her feet tightly against the mattress with his own ankles, "I said enough." Shushing her hungry kitten whimpers he trails his wet thumb down her fallen lip and chin, popping her shirt open and rims it around her areola, "s' soft wanna rub me cock between 'em tits." The shiver that hits her makes her squirm and Harry gives a chaste kiss to her open mouth putting his thumb at her entrance ready to play with her cunt.

"Your eyes open 'em fo' me, puppy." He ducks down to kiss her not letting her turn around himself so that her neck doesn't strain while caressing his fingers up and down in her slickness making soapy noises on purpose, when she finally looks in the mirror locking eyes with him as if he's holding the most precious gem in his arms — the sight turned her spine into a sharp arrow, "c - ca-can I've more?" She gasps squeezing his bicep pussy lips fluttering and her hole palpitates aching for him.

"My polite girl." He smiles awfully fonded at her and she nods licking her lips to speak, "'m good, good always." He pushes his two fingers inside her cunt and she moans with her whole will trying to sink herself to his knuckles nails digging into his shoulders, "I know ye'r." He assures her sliding them out and teasing her little pink asshole turning her into a whining mess.

She twitches around his fingers when he pumps them back along with her sticky wetness and fucks her with them, flickering her clit with his other hand and kneads the inside of her fleshy thigh. She gives out a gaspy moan of unbearable pleasure when his cock's stiffeness rubs between her asscheeks, "ye' feel it? S' fo' you, gonna stuff yeh full of me cock, fuck you nice n' warm and cum all over yer pussy. How you deserved to be fucked, is that okay?" She never expected him this much of a lewd talker — hell she didn't even expected him to step out of his conserved, rather shy demeanour, "yes, yes, yes." She visioned him as a curt dom, who's more into BDSM but he's warm and caring with her. Just in few second of them doing it he proved it how much he's loving to please her.

"Ah! 'm gonna cum . . . gonna —" His sweet vulgar words combined with him toying, rubbing and fingereing her already swollen pussy tips her to the edge she was desiring to get from him, "cum all over me fingers. Want it s' bad from ye darlin', to see you." He says in a tone that's on the verge of pleading but holds a commanding hint under it and with her bones all stiffing, her skin burning and heart buzzing she snaps into her own dreamy world gushing over his fingers with her juices.

"Oh . . Harry." She loudly mewls thrashing in his arms from the intensity of her orgasm and he holds her tight with his arms wrapped around her torso, kisses to the curve of her neck and exposed collarbones. He notices her stiring away from his hand due to sensitivity and takes out his fingers with a squelching popping noise that made her blink from her semblance. Her chest heaves as she watches him in the mirror licking her cum off his wrists with the tip of his pink tongue, "mhm tastes s' sweet." One by one he sucks his finger humming around them seductively spiking her insides yearing to be fucked by him, "just like you sweet puppy."

Gently laying her down he knees infront of her getting out of his flimsy shirt and Y/N admires the flounce of tattoos trailing from his pecks down his adorable love handles. Her gaze stops at the his happy trail leading down to where he's swelled up against his zipper and she hasn't seen someone so beautiful in her entire life, he shimmies his joggers down teasingly with a smirk and she whines hiccuping when his cock slaps against his lower abdomen making her eyes go wide.

"Oh my . . " She gasps at the gorgeous sight of his rock-hard cock between his supple thighs. He's beautifully big, satiny and a dot of shade lighter than his lips making his prick so kissable, would it even fit?? She could already imagine it stretching her out gracefully and stimulating her in ways her fingers could never, "you're so gorgeous button."

The shiny swollen tip, and the dollop of pre-come weeping down his slit alluring her to have him in her mouth but he strokes it not to waste it.

"What's the pout fo' darlin'?" He asks as she stares it making him all shy but he overcomes it persistent to make her feel good (she shared with him that she never knew what being cared feels like) he wanna gives her all lovin' as she did to him the day in cafe. Cups the nape of her neck to bring her for another kiss splitting his thumb into her hair and the moment is so vulnerable and saccharine as he snogs her to floatiness, "will make sure it fits — make you cum many times, baby." He flips her gently.

"On ye tummy fo' me, like an atta pup ye're." It knots her stomach into ropes and she jolts squealing softly into pillows when he smacked her peach watching it jiggle while tugging at his prick to coat it with his thick wetness.

He moans biting his lower lip lulling his head over his shoulders stroking the head of his cock between her asscheeks and round her entrance not pushing at once torching both of them, "you're so delicate wanna be slow with you." He whispers to her pressing his front against her shoulders while wrapping his hand around his shaft to push inside her.

"It's okay!" Her tiny squeaks rolls into a moan when the head of his cock settles inside her and when she twitches around it he cruffs a groan coaxing her sides, "shhh baby 's okay relax fo'me." Taking his hand away from around himself he places it atop her ass withdrawing and looking down to see her cunt glistening with his and her's wetness — then bottoming out deep inside her till his balls are snug against her bum. His stomach twists with pleasure at the warmth that blankets his cock completely making him hunch but he recoups with his arms pressed beside her temple.

The stretch that burns through her core's so pleasing and fulfilling. It hurts in a good way. She knows how patient and composed he's being for her, from the way he fattens tucked inside her walls and he slides his hand between her front and the sheets to caress her soft breasts moving with rough pace.

"Don't stop, please." She recites the mantra almost crushing his fingers with her grip around, it's alot, the constant rub of sheet against her clit and him driving inside her from behind with moans sexier than in erotic audio books. He draws loose circles over her mound making her thighs spread wider with the inability to hold them as he pinched her clit coercion her sensitive button, "oh my god . ." With the whimpers of his name she squirts around his cock and it makes her throw her hips at him.

When he pulls out to turn her on back she whines with a frown, heaving chest and coral cheeks looking totally fucked already, "wanna see ye'r face when you come . . . s' beautiful." He hisses hauling her legs around his waist lowering himself down to enter her with lil smooches to her cheeks, "cum again fo' me baby — yeah just like that squeeze on meh." He pounds her over and over grinding his pelvis against her's to stimulate her in every way.

Feeling the heat crackling in her bones and tummy she takes him by shoulders to cuddle him closer to her chest raising her hips to meet his's, a crying mess, with glossiness twinkling at the corners of her eyes as she comes with euphoria dawning upon her and Harry works her up again.

"Once more, love, i know you've one more fo' me." He gives out a purry groan biting her throat and the valley of her chest, snuggling against it with kisses — when she shakes her head through around him he lines up his nose against her nose petal–ling his lips over her's, "yes you could puppy my sweet — " His eyelids bolting shut at the built of up of his own release and the moment she cums with his cock now he shoots his thick spurt deep inside her.

"This's what it only took fo' you? Callin' ye mere sweet names." He fucks her through it and Y/N admits that he went with his promise --- fucked her like she had never before, they remain like that for some time catching their breaths and then he pulls out of her gently and pumps himself to empty his load shooting it over her pussy and abdomen, "you came so much." She says completely baffled and he steals a chaste kiss from her looking at the white ribbons sticking to her skin.

"Just for you, babyhun."

He tells her not to move and whisks away coming back with a pack of baby wipes. Her hearts swirls with so much fondness for him when he pats the wipes between his palms to get them less cold and shushes her with pecks when she hisses with sensitivity.

They take another shower, this time together and it's not sexual at all though alot of tired poofy kisses and cute yawns were included as they gave eachother shampoo massages and she'd cooe everytime untangling his long hickorey curl.

They changed the sheets (unapologetically very clumsily) and he fetches a glass of water for her making it drink her.

When they were cuddled awfully good he lifts his head up from it was nuzzled between her titties. His accent drawly and slippery from tiredness, "Y/N." He checks if she's asleep and she hums in response starting to play with his hair lazily.

"That day when me date didn't show up?" Witha half heart she hums again, she doesn't like to talk bout that day, because the hopelessness that conquered him that evening still makes her sad.

"I was glad ye' were there 'n 'm so so so thankful that he didn't show up. Else we wouldn't be here in eachother's embrace 'n me heart still'd been mournful to sleep in cold sheets waiting fo' me person." It's the most he has talked in his soberness. It wells up tears in both of their eyes.

"You're my person." She cradles his face hating it that he was kept so love starved his entire life and she gazes him dearly, sweetly, affectionately all the words that could describe love for someone spilling out of the chambers of heart.

"I want to love you so much, pet, make you me most treasured human hershey."

"I'm in, cuddle me up." He grins smauching a loud kiss to her lips and cosying back to his previous spot purring like a kitten thrown into heaps of fluffy blankets.

#HARRY STYLES SMUT #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry smut #harry x y/n #harry styles blurb #cute harry #hsh #fluff #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #HARRY WRITINGGGG

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mammons-tax-returns · 3 years

Note

How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!

REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS

LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏

During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list

masterlist

✖️MALE MC✖️

Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.

His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.

A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.

This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨

Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.

If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?

When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.

MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...

“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”

“But Lucifer 🥺”

“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.

It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.

There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.

I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP

He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.

The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.

However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.

But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.

But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.

It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.

Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.

But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.

Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33

Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.

In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.

He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”

Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.

While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.

*fish man short circuits*

MC looks...! S-so cute....!

- thinks the third born otaku.

Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu

But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is

Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.

He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.

No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.

I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that

OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER

Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.

But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.

Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.

He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.

He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!

Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼

Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.

He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.

Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.

He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.

If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.

If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.

“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”

MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.

The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.

Asmo screams (in a happy way)

“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”

Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.

He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.

NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,

Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.

He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.

He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.

But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.

Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.

But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.

He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.

This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞

Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.

PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯

Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.

Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!

The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.

Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.

No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.

He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.

So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.

The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.

Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.

He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.

So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.

Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.

I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.

But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”

Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.

I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile

Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.

👀..

sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.

Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.

Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.

It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.

“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”

I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.

This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.

But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.

As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.

Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.

So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me asmo #male mc #male reader

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myheroacademiashorts · 4 years

Text

Hold Me Closer

Hiii it’s been a while, guys! Lots of crazy things happening rn, and I hope everyone is inside and at home, safe and sound. Im putting all of my requests on hold just to write this piece for the lovely @bakugou-katsukisgf, who has been feeling kinda down lately. @bakugou-katsukisgf, if you’re reading this, just know that I’ve always loved your work, and never apologize for how you’re feeling! I hope this makes you feel a little bit better. <3

-Jody

Prompt: found here ; Bakugou knows you’ve had a bad day, and despite his infamous explosive attitude, he wants to make sure you know he’ll always be there for you.

Pairing: Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Words: 2,880

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You felt like crap.

You stepped into your dorm room and fell face-first into your bedsheets with a groan, backpack dropping to the ground with arms stiff at your sides as you allowed yourself to just... lay there. You’d had bad days before, sure, but today was just exceptionally terrible. It had started off with you spilling hot tea on yourself during breakfast, successfully staining your school uniform when you were already late for class. It continued to fall downhill from there, up to the point where you ended up staying after school to escape your friend’s questioning over your quiet state, camping out in the corner of the library until the sun began to disappear. Just the memories of the day caused your eyes to prick with tears.

You only lifted your head up from your mattress a few moments later, when your air supply had begun to dwindle, just in time to hear a rough knock on your door. Another groan escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes to pull yourself together. Then you stood, plastering on a smile as you made your way to the closed door. Before opening it, you swiped your hand under your eyes, wiping away any stray tears that had managed to escape down your cheeks. You yanked open the door, mask still in place as you found yourself gazing straight into a pair of familiar ruby eyes.

“Katsuki! What’s up?” Your voice was full of false cheer, and while most would’ve fallen for the act, your boyfriend’s brows furrowed. His attention swept over you quickly but carefully, taking in your stained and wrinkled uniform to your reddened eyes and tensed shoulders. He pursed his lips.

He held out a hand for you to take, while the other burrowed itself into his pant pocket. “C’mon.” He said, voice low and gruff as he glanced away from you. You hesitated before ghosting your fingers over his, and you didn’t get a second chance to think about your decision as he grasped your hand and yanked you down the hallways and away from your bedroom, making sure your door closed before doing so. He held your hand tightly, not sparring a look over his shoulder to ensure you were still following close behind as he led you up a flight of stairs and to his bedroom. Your heart tightened, and nervously you gulped.

He shoved his door open with his free hand, pulling you inside and shutting it behind the two of you. He seemed awkward at first, freezing by the closed door as he looked at you with cheeks dusted pink. He was lucky you were patient, and you stared back at him with tired eyes and a blank expression. After a silent moment, he moved to his closet, facing away from you as he rummaged through its contents with a grumble. He was in his workout clothes, a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top, and a stain of sweat was still fresh on his back. You clasped your hands together, averting your eyes and instead staring down at your chipped nail polish with a grimace. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you knew you weren’t ready to talk about your feelings from the day. Not yet, at least.

You didn’t hear him turn around and approach you, not until he gently grasped your chin in one hand to force your attention back to him. Your eyes had lingering tears, unshed but present nonetheless, and he sighed before taking your hand in his once more. He didn’t speak this time, but you easily noticed the towels and extra clothes that were tucked under his free arm.

He led you right where you assumed he would, to the showers on the first floor. The two of you stayed quiet for the entire time, not even trying to start a conversation. At the time, you preferred the silence versus any questioning, and your grip on Katsuki’s hand tightened slightly. It earned you a soft squeeze in return, and you noticed Katsuki’s hand was just a little sweaty.

He took both of you into the men’s shower room, turning the lock until it released a satisfying click before moving further into the room. The first thing he did was walk to the first shower and switched on the water, the noise being the only thing within the room. Other than that, it was quiet, meaning the two of you were the only ones in the shower room, and he set the spare clothes and towels on a nearby bench before finally turning his attention to you once more. “We’re taking a shower.” He didn’t leave room for argument, and he stepped forward to loop his arms around you to reach for the clasp of your skirt, easily unclipping the small hook before pulling the zipper down. He smelled faintly of burnt caramel, a scent you had gotten familiar with since dating the hot-headed boy, and you inhaled it softly. It calmed you, as if he were your own personal relaxation candle.

You let him undress you, hands abnormally gentle like before as he slowly discarded your clothes, leaving them in a rumpled pile on the floor. He let his hands drift and linger on your bare back, caressing the skin before unclipping your bra and letting it hit the floor. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek; not sexual, but instead full of a very un-Bakugou-like softness as he pulled himself away, allowing you to strip yourself of your remaining underwear and socks. While you finished undressing, he started on himself, moving more quickly than how he treated you as he left his clothes in the same heap as your dirty ones. The shower room was similar to the locker rooms used before and after training, except the curtains were replaced with hazy glass doors and the lockers were a quarter of the size; just large enough to hold the essentials of a bath. You watched Katsuki pull out a few bottles from his locker, shampoo and conditioner being a part of them, before leading you to the now-heated shower.

He moved to let you enter first, and you stepped into the welcoming hot water with a grateful sigh. Immediately your shoulders dropped, and you let the water stream down your spine as you stared at the spot just underneath the showerhead. You heard Katsuki follow close behind, closing the door quietly before coming up closer behind you; close enough that you thought you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hands glided over your arms, still keeping silent as he let you have a moment, before his voice finally broke through. “Turn around.” Despite being alone, his voice was hushed, and now that you’d had some time to gather yourself and your thoughts, you turned to face your boyfriend. His hands left your skin, one of them moving instead to your face to gently caress your cheek. His eyes were unusually soft, lips still pressed into a tight line as he scanned your face. “I have your favorite shampoo. The one that smells like coconut and shit.”

At that comment, you finally allowed a real smile to bloom on your lips for the first time that day. It was small and weak, but still there. “Aw, aren’t you a sweetie?” You teased, and a darker blush covered the blonde’s cheeks as he glanced away, dropping his hand to his side. Already, you were beginning to feel better, and you moved to grab the body wash from the shelf Katsuki had set it on. “And my body wash, too? Didn’t know you liked smelling like blueberries, babe.”

“Shut it, idiot!” The familiar snarl made your grin only widen further, and you lathered the gel in your hands before swiping them across his chest. “Hey! Cut that shit out!” He yelled, but a mischievous spark glinted in his eyes, showing you his anger was fake. The smell of blueberries and vanilla flooded your sense, and soon the two of you were chatting comfortably, little tidbit comments being thrown back to one another as you cleaned yourself. “Let me wash your hair.” Bakugou interrupted when he saw the familiar bottle in your hand, and you hesitated before handing it to him. He seemed serious to do it, even making sure that there was enough of the shampoo in his hand before barking at you to turn around. He had never offered to wash your hair before, although the two of you showered together often enough. The feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp nearly made you moan, but you bit down the sound and instead leaned further into his touch, humming gently as he worked the shampoo into your (H/C) locks. He rinsed it out, as well, and repeated a similar process with the conditioner, pinching your cheek and playfully biting your shoulder just to hear your shrill giggles instead of the silence. He loved your laugh, not that he had the courage to say it to your face; fighting villains was one thing, but you were an entirely different kind of monster.

By the time you two had escaped from the shower, your spirits had been dramatically lifted. You dried yourself with the plush towel your boyfriend had brought for you, allowing your eyes to drink up the hard cut of his jaw down to his chiseled abdomen before yanking on the clothes he had brought; a pair of his own sweatpants and a black t-shirt with a skull adorning the front of it. He had grabbed himself a second pair of shorts, not easily as chilled as you, and a white shirt that clung appreciatively to his body.

You practically skipped back to his bedroom, momentarily forgetting about your horrible day as Katsuki followed close behind, dirty clothes already tossed inside of a laundry machine before the two of you made your way back upstairs. You couldn’t see it, but your boyfriend held a grin on his lips as he watched you joyfully bounce back to his room, eyes full of a light that had been missing for most of the day. He wanted to ask you about it, about the blankness of your face during school, but he kept his lips shut. He knew you’d tell him when you were ready. He could wait until then... Maybe. But patience was never one of his strong suits, unfortunately.

You bounded into his bedroom first, immediately diving into his sheets and snuggling into them. They smelled like Katsuki, a mix of caramel and the musk of a boy that made your head just a little dizzy. You loved it, and buried your face further into the bed to inhale it with a blinding grin. Meanwhile, Katsuki shut the door, leaning against it as he watched you cuddle into his sheets like a puppy laying on the bed for the first time. He couldn’t help but smile, and pushed himself off of the door to sit next to you, leaning his chin in the palm of his hand. “Hey, dumbass, you plan to take up the whole bed or what?”

“Why not? You can sleep on the floor, can’t you?”

He snorted, and unexpectedly stood up to instead wrap his arms around your waist and hoist you from the bed. You squealed, the movement unexpected, but the sound quickly dissolved into giggles as he took your spot instead, leaning on his back and turning you around so you laid on top of him. “There. Much better.” He said in a rough voice, and you snuggled into his neck, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh that hid there. He shivered at the feelings, arms tightening around you, and responded by placing a peck to your still-wet hair. “Alright, let me up. I’ve gotta piss.” You nipped at his shoulder lightly before moving off of him, rolling to the other side and watching as he made his way to the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he shut the door that you found yourself alone once more, and the thoughts and bad factors of earlier came rushing back to you. You frowned. No, you thought to yourself, hands tightening into fists. Stop it. Just enjoy the moment now, dummy. Your argument with yourself was short-lived, and Katsuki quickly joined you back on the bed. A plastic bag was in his hand, and you stared at it in confusion before saying the first thing that popped into your head, which was: “Holy hell, you can pee out snacks?”

A booming, unexpected laugh escaped from Bakugou, and he thrusted the bag into your lap. “No, dumbass. Had to hide them for you. Here.” The bag was full of your favorites, from chocolate candy to chips and frowned-upon sodas that Katsuki always complained about. Your smile was a bit more uneasy, but still present. You knew comfort food when you saw it. “Thanks, blasty.” You said, squeezing his cheek with one hand, which he swatted away with a mere grumble.

He grabbed his television remote, directing it to the blank screen that sat across from his bed. “You like Disney movies, right? With the frilly dresses and talking shit?” He seemed to be talking to himself versus you, and you let him mumble to himself more as he fiddled with the controller, until the familiar golden letters of Beauty and the Beast flashed across the TV screen. Your heart warmed, because this was your favorite movie since it had come out in 2017, and just the fact that Katuski had remembered that fact made you want to smother him in loving kisses. Jeez, this boy really knew how to make a girl feel better.

He forced you to scoot over, propping the two of you upright with the many pillows you liked to hide in his room for yourself. He tucked you beside him, arm hanging around your waist and a blanket draped over your bodies as he stared at the screen, watching as Emma Watson danced across the town. While you might’ve liked the movie, Katsuki couldn’t say he was as big of a fan. He did like the beast though, even if he did get kind of mushy towards the end.

The movie played for some time, and finally you tugged at the bottom of his shirt to gain his attention. “Hey... I’m sorry with how I was today. It was just a really shitty day, and-” You cut yourself off, taking in a deep breath as unexpected tears began to form. You thought you had been done with crying, but apparently not. “Wh-what I mean to say is-”

This time, it was your boyfriend who stopped your words, placing a hand over your mouth with his eyes fixated into a natural glare. “Don’t do that shit.” He started, and used his free hand to pause the movie before continuing. “Don’t ever apologize to me about how you’re feeling, alright? Talk to me about it, but you don’t need to apologize for being sad, baka.” You knew he said the name lovingly, not as an insult, and smiled despite the unshed tears. “You got that?” You nodded your head, and he grunted. “Alright. Good.” He finally removed his hand, instead using it to wipe at a stray tear that had escaped from the corner of your eye. “Hey, don’t cry, dumbass. C’mere.”

He opened his arms wider, accepting you as you fell face-first into his chest as the tears flowed more freely. His arms automatically tightened around your smaller frame, and you fit snugly in between his thighs like you were meant to be there. He didn’t speak, instead resorting to gently rubbing his calloused hands over your back until your cries had subsided into quiet sniffles. “Sorry for causing you an idiot. I didn’t know it was going to make you cry.” It was Katsuki’s own way of teasing, and while it wasn’t very funny, you smiled nonetheless.

“I love you.” You sighed, cuddling further into his brace. He didn’t stiffen up like the first time you had said the three words, instead tightening his hold on you and tilting your head up to his. His lips found yours, soft and warm, and he pulled away more quickly than you would’ve liked. “I love you too, idiot. And even though you’re a dumbass, you’re my dumbass. Don’t you forget it.” You giggled, wiggling enough to reach your arms up and around his neck, lifting yourself up his body and pressing for a longer kiss, one that sent tingles throughout your body.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything.” You didn’t miss the way his ears reddened, or how he averted his gaze from your own as the blush spread to his cheeks. “Any time, babe. Just talk to me next time you feel like shit, okay?” You nodded, moving from on top of him to take back your original spot at his side, and grabbing the unopened bag of candy that sat scattered beside you.

“Alright, are you going to play the movie again? This is, like, the best part.”

“Depends. Are you gonna give me one of those Kit Kats, or what?”

552 notes · View notes

liron-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Happy reading

Human AU Malec & Destiel Oneshot

Dean lets his eyes run over the spines of the library books in front of him. He knows that he has likely read all the historical novels in their small town library at this point, but it doesn't harm to check for new arrivals.

He spots a cover he hasn't seen before, well placed on a small tablet stand—a new accession. Awesome. He reaches out to get it, but before he can grab it, a large hand with black nail polish beats him to it, and Dean curses inwardly.

The other man follows the hand invading his view and scrutinises Dean with black-rimmed eyes. "Sorry. Were you interested in this one?"

Dean needs a moment to take the man fully in. He is a work of art from the black cowboy boots right up to the blue-tinted tips of his spiked up hair. Dean has to clear his throat. He's never seen anyone like him in their little town. He's probably from the new settlement up the hill. Many New Yorkers moved here, much to the villagers' dismay.

Mr Perfect-Style raises a questioning eyebrow, and Dean realises that he hasn't answered for too long. "Um, yeah. It's from my favourite author, and I haven't read it yet."

The other man smiles. "Same."

Dean likes the other man's voice. And his confident posture. And his taste in books. Dammit! He hasn't looked at a man for years now. Hook-ups with women are safer. But he's settled now, and Dean is pretty confident that the man gives off queer vibes with all the makeup and shiny clothes.

Dean feels courageous today and decides to check his hunch. He leans against the bookshelf and puts on his most winsome smile. "What do I have to do for you to give me way with this book? I'm a fast reader."

Two sentences without stammering. This must be Dean's new record regarding gay flirting. He's nearly proud of himself.

The other man raises the single eyebrow even higher, eyes sparkling with mirth. He gives Dean a once-over, and his lips pull into a wide grin. "I'm not sure if I should hit that," he says, and Dean freaking blushes, the smirk gliding off his face instantly.

Suffering a rebuff is bad enough. But he never hit a wall so quickly before he could even reveal all his charm. Not with women though, so...

He straightens himself and nods. "Gonna make a reservation then," he says and turns around, leaving the library without new reading fodder.

***

"Here, Mr Winchester. Happy reading," the librarian says.

Dean smiles at her as he takes the book after she scanned it together with his library card. "I'm lucky that it was returned so quickly. Two days. That's impressive."

"Maybe the other reader didn't enjoy it," she supplies with a shrug. Dean doubts that very much. He nods nonetheless. He's still a little miffed. Usually, he's so smooth when it comes to flirting with the ladies, but men still give him a headache. All those contradicting signals.

He walks out to the bus stop, and when he finds a seat in the last row, he opens the book, unable to wait a minute longer now that he has it in his hands. At the beginning of the first chapter, he finds a scrap of paper. No. It's handmade paper adorned with beautiful handwriting. Dean furrows his brow. And reads the short note.

Sorry if I was too harsh on you on Tuesday. I would like to atone. Do you have plans for the spring fair?

Dean stares at the delicate letters and numbers, then he lets out a snort and pushes the paper into the pocket of his jacket.

***

"A date would do you good," Alec says and pushes a bottle of ice-cold beer into Dean's hand. "Is he good-looking?"

Dean snorts. "Not my usual type."

"Your usual type is women. You haven't been with a single man since you came out."

Dean shrugs. "Men are intimidating as fuck." Alec snorts at that. "You have no right to make fun of me. How many men exactly did you date in the last two years?"

"That's different. I don't need a man," Alec says and slumps on the other side of the sofa.

"And I do?"

Alec scans him from head to toe. "Most definitely." Dean huffs a laugh and doesn't dignify him with an answer. "What do you have to lose? We wanted to go to the fair anyway. Ask him if he has a nice, good-looking buddy who's interested in men, and we're going on a double date."

Dean laughs out loud. "Just a second ago, you said you don't need a man."

"I don't need a partner. But a nice flirt? Why not?" Alec shrugs.

Dean shakes his head. "I won't go out with that guy just to get you laid."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Come on, man. Maybe he knows where the hot, secretly gay people are hiding in this town."

"They are assembled in this room, Alec." Dean takes a swig of his beer and shakes his head. "Wouldn't it be easier to simply be fuck buddies?"

Alec screws up his face in disgust. "You're like my brother. Don't even—urgh."

Dean giggles and plops into the sofa cushions. "Okay. I'll text him."

***

"You owe me. Big time," Castiel grumbles. "I don't care that we've been friends since kindergarten. If my date is a stupid meathead, I'm killing you."

Magnus chuckles. "Now and then, a meathead is exactly what one needs, Castiel. It's not always about finding your one true love. You know that I'm a romantic by heart, but sometimes you just need a good, mmpf," he says as Castiel covers his mouth with his hand.

He pierces Magnus with his eyes. "I know you are a bit of a lothario, but not everyone needs that to be happy." He pulls his hand away and looks at it in disgust before he cleans the lipgloss away with a handkerchief that he pulls out of his trenchcoat.

"Sorry, darling. I should've known better than to say that. But I'm sure he'll be nice." He looks at his watch. "They must be here any second. Oh, there." Magnus waves wildly at two approaching men and shouts Dean's name.

"Which one is supposed to be mine?" Castiel grunts.

"The one with the neck tattoo," Magnus smirks.

"Of course it's him," Castiel says and rolls his eyes.

***

"So, you're afraid of heights," Castiel asks Dean, who eyes Magnus and Alec in the line for the Ferris wheel.

"Yeah. Since childhood. And you?"

"I kind of fell from the sky once. Don't need a repetition of this experience."

Dean chuckles. "I can imagine. So, you and Magnus, you never…?"

Castiel looks at him in disgust. "Oh no. He's way too sexual for my taste." His eyes widen when he realises what he just said. "I mean, I love him, and he is a great guy. Smart, funny. Stylish, I guess." He squirms under Dean's piercing gaze.

"I wouldn't have expected someone like you when he promised his best-looking friend," Dean says, grinning from ear to ear.

Castiel snorts. "That's because Ragnor is on the other side of the pond, and all his other male friends are straight or heteroromantic."

"What?"

"They are asexual but like women romantically."

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn't comment on it. Who wants to look like a complete idiot in front of a handsome guy like Castiel? Not that Dean would look at him that way. He's on a date with Magnus, after all. Magnus, who smiles at Alec in a way that Dean wasn't graced with until now.

Dean pulls his gaze from the two other men and turns to Castiel. "So, you're a professor? Of what exactly?"

"Church history." Great change of topic, Winchester. "Are you a martial arts instructor like Alec?"

"No," Dean chuckles. "I train in my spare time, but I'm a car mechanic and teach the next generation."

It's the first time that Castiel's frown smooths out this evening and a tender smile plays on his lips. "Teaching is such a great vocation, don't you agree?"

Dean thinks of his trainees and nods. "It's pretty rewarding, yeah." Dean can't take his eyes off Castiel's beautiful lips. Alec will kill him.

***

"Oh, you must go to the London Eye, should you ever be there. It's magnificent."

Alec chuckles. "I will remember that the next time I portal over."

Magnus hits his arm playfully. "I'm just so happy to finally be on a Ferris Wheel again. Castiel is such a—no, that would be mean to say. He has his reasons."

"I like people who don't feel the need to belittle others," Alec says, seemingly apropos of nothing.

"I think everyone has an intrinsic value. No matter their strengths or weaknesses." Alec smiles at him. Magnus quirks an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," Alec smirks. "You're just really beautiful." Magnus' lips part in surprise. The sight is very distracting. "Sorry. I guess that was inappropriate. You're Dean's date after all."

Magnus looks down at his date standing suspiciously close to his friend, who usually hates it when people do that. "I don't have the feeling he's truly interested in me. Are you sure he's gay?"

Alec laughs out loud. "He's a disaster bi. Can get every woman he wants, but let a man flirt with him and he switches into panic mode."

"I figured that. I was playing hard to get and he turned the other way."

Alec chuckles. "I can imagine that. But I'm happy that you tried to get to know him anyway. Although I don't think that you two are a good match."

Magnus smirks in amusement. "Is that so?"

Alec nods and moves over to Magnus' bench. "Yeah," he says when the cabin has finally stopped swaying. "I wish you were my date."

"Why? Because we have so much in common?" Magnus snorts.

Alec shrugs. "Opposites attract." He leans in, to Magnus' ear. "And I saw you checking out my ass," he whispers over the noises of the fair.

"You have a very nice ass, Alec. Who would blame me?"

***

"Sonofabitch! I can't believe he's kissing my date!"

Castiel chuckles, and the sound worms itself into Dean's chest and settles in his heart. "They look cute together, though."

"I guess they'll take another round, huh?" Dean laughs.

"Seems that way. Would you like to walk over the fair with me?" Dean smiles at him. He intertwines their fingers and relishes Castiel's answering smile. Alec will likely not use Krav Maga on him.

#malec #destiel #deancas #multifandom fic #dean winchester #castiel #alec lightwood #magnus bane #double date #malec fandom #fanfiction #shadowhunters #malec fanfiction #destiel fanfiction #bisexual dean winchester #bisexual magnus bane #gay alec lightwood #ace castiel

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noladyme · 4 years

Text

Chess. Chapter 3

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes

I don’t know how many days passed. In the dark, days and nights flowed together; making it difficult to keep up a daily rhythm that made sense.

I lived from meal to meal. Not that I ate much of what they sent in, which was usually more of those little pellets in water; and every third meal, being something cold and mushy, that smelt conspicuously like canned cat food. It took me about 6 “meals”, to finally accept that this is what it actually was. With the canned food I’d get a thin slice of stale toast. This – along with a plastic cup of water – was all I consumed for a long time.

Every once in a while, I’d hear Griggs voice through the speaker, reminding me he was still there. He’d tell me to get ready; meaning I had to face the wall opposite the door, hands and legs spread. They’d come in then, the guards, usually fronted by the man himself, and flip over the mattress, pretending to search my cell for contraband.

That’s when he’d stand behind me, pressing himself against my back. His hands would wander, patting me down everywhere, even the parts of my body not covered by clothing. After a final squeeze of my asscheek; he’d turn around and proclaim; “She’s clean”. They’d back out the door, shut it, and it would be dark again.

During one of these visits, I’d had enough, and as Griggs hand wandered towards my groin area, I quickly grabbed his hand, twisting his fingers until I heard a crack.

“Bitch!”, Griggs screeched, elbowed me in the side; and as I feel to the floor, I suddenly had three guards on me, kicking me on my sore hip, and on my ribs. One of the kicks pushed the air out of me, and as I desperately tried to regain control of my breathing, they backed out the door, leaving me there alone.

Maybe 10 minutes later, the speaker howled in the darkness.

“That was not very nice, puss”, Griggs said. “You know, I’ve tried to play nice with you; even breaking the budget on those canned foods you’ve been getting. No more. It’s time you settle in for the long haul”.

Music played, at first at a low volume; but then increasing, until it felt like my head was going to explode from the sound. It would stay like that for about 30 seconds, before being lowered again. It continued like this; music turning up and down, with the highest volume being so intense, no amount of covering my ears seemed to help. My heart beat fiercely, and I could even feel the veins of my fingers pounding. I curled up in a seated position.

After what seemed like forever, the music stopped. I exhaled, and removed my hands from my ears; my biceps stinging from how long and forcefully I had been covering them. I laid down, ears ringing; and I could hear the blood pumping through my body. My ribs and my hip were pulsating in pain.

I closed my eyes, and my body began to give in to sleep.

The music started again. Same pattern as before. I screamed, but at the height of the music, I couldn’t even hear my own voice. That’s when I passed out.

---

“Chess”, a familiar voice called. “Y/N!”. I came too, slowly.

“No more”; I whispered into the darkness; lips and tongue dry.

“Cover your eyes. I’m turning on the lights”. I recognized the voice then. Flag. With great effort, I covered my face with my arm, curling up into a fetal position. I heard the sound of the fluorescent lights flickering on. Then footsteps and keys rattling outside the door.

“Three goddamn days? She’s been out for three days?!”, Flags voice boomed on the other side of the door. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”.

The door opened, and through the crack of my bended arm, I saw boots walking towards me.

“We thought she was faking it, sir”, Griggs answered Flag.

I felt a hand on my waist, and winced in pain.

“What the hell did you do to her?”, Flag growled.

“She attacked me, sir. My men might have gone a bit overboard”, Griggs retorted.

I blinked, the light still too sharp for my eyes. Flag took a hold of my arm, pulling it away from my face. My eyes hurt, but I looked up at him. His expression was pained.

Putting an arm around my waist, he pulled me up into a seated position. I looked down at my body. I was filthy, covered in dust; and my arms and legs looked skinnier than the last time I’d seen them.

“Can you stand?”, Flag quietly asked me. His eyes were worried.

I tried to get onto my knees, but was too dizzy; and fell back onto my butt. Flag got behind me, and carefully slipped his arms through mine; lifting me onto my feet.

I was weak, and tried to take a wobbly step forward, falling back into his arms. He lifted my arm, and put it around his neck, dragging me with him.

“Help me out, Edwards”, Flag said, and a man with a stubbled face, standing a few inches shorter than Flag, took my other arm around his own neck. Half walking, half carrying me out of the cell, we passed Griggs, who was standing outside. I saw that his hand was in a cast of some kind; and smiled at the fact that I’d made my mark.

They walked me down a dimly lit corridor. Was I in a basement? The doors we passed were all closed, and I wondered if there were other prisoners behind them.

At the end of the hall were stairs, and the two soldiers dragged me up them, until we came to a new corridor, cleaner and brighter than the one we had come from. They took me to a room, sparsely furnitured with a metal table, and two chairs on either side of it. A clock over the door told me it was 3 o’clock. Am or pm, I didn’t know. Interrogation, I told myself, and the men seated me in a chair, handcuffing me to the table.

On one wall was large mirror, which I knew would be a two way.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The person staring back at me was someone I didn’t know. Her face was gaunt, eyes dark; and she was black and blue on one side of her torso. Well hello, gorgeous, I laughed at myself.

“Something funny?”, Flag asked me, on his way out the door.

“Just that stick up your ass”, I answered, and smiled as brightly as I could.

He closed the door behind him.

One hand free, I ran my fingers through my hair; matted from my ordeal.

I waited for about 30 minutes. Something smelled rancid, and I realized it was me. I hadn’t bathed for who knew how long; but it would obviously have to wait.

The door opened again, and in stepped the woman from the van, followed by Flag, who was looking everywhere but at me. The woman sat down, and pulled out a paper file folder.

“My name is Amanda Waller”, she said.

“I know who you are”, I said, and leant back in the chair, trying for casual. “I also know you’re here to make me an offer I can’t refuse. Literally. You’ll kill me if I do”.

Waller smirked. “I won’t, but the guards at this place might. Apparently, you broke the captains favorite jerking hand”.

“So you’ve been listening in”.

“We have. And though I am not happy with the way things have turned out, it seems all of this was necessary to keep you in line”, Waller retorted. “Let me get down to the point. Me and the colonel here, lead a group of people with special skills. For some reason you know this already; so you probably also know that each of these individuals are people, who most of the good people of The United States would rather see behind bars, or even executed”. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Before I continue, please humor me; how did you know of us?”.

“I knew about you. I didn’t know about Mr. Tall, Lean and Grumpy here”, I said, and nodded my head in Flags direction. His expression remained calm, but his lips twitched once; revealing that my answer had made an effect.

“Hear that, Flag? Your cover remains unblown. Good for you”. Her cold eyes remained on me. “Now answer the question, Y/N”.

“There are whispers. About a cold bitch who is tracking people like me; to use our… special skills”, I repeated her own words.

“But there really is no one like you, is there, Chess?”. She stood up, and opened the folder. “Y/N Y/L/N. A.k.a. Chess. Short for Cheshire?”.

“Nah, that name was taken”, I smirked.

“Right. You don’t strike me as someone with martial arts skills and venomous nails”, she said, looking down at my chipped black polish.

“I can scrap with the best of them, if necessary”.

“I’m counting on it”. She continued. “B minus high school student, until you had a run in with Jervis Tetch, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. Experimenting with a device he hoped would render himself invisible, he tested it out on one of his kidnapping victims. You”.

I winced. The memory of that event was something I’d rather have been left alone.

“It backfired. Without going in to the scientific details, it made you able to become invisible at will, without using the aforementioned device. He decided to use you for his own criminal activity, and for a few years, you worked for him as a cat burglar and spy. During one of his stints in Arkham Asylum, you decided to become an independent contractor”.

I sat up straight, daring her to continue. She sat back down.

“Burglary. Car theft. Stealing official documents from the FBI – impressive!”, she smiled. “Kidnapping of a senators daughter. Possession of an illegal drug substance?”.

“Actually those last ones were a two for one”, I laughed. “And it wasn’t so much a kidnapping as great weekend in Vegas. She was fully in to it. We almost got married”. The clerk at the chapel had refused to go through with the ceremony, because he was worried, we were under the influence of drugs. It might have been the smell of the half smoked blunt in my pocket that gave us away. “Stephanie? Tiffany? I can’t remember her name”.

“Melissa”, Flag said from behind Waller.

“Right. Melissa!”, I smirked. “You could bounce a nickel of her ass. Was she an ex of yours?”, I smiled at him. He scoffed.

Waller continued. “You’ve avoided arrest on most of your charges; I suppose, due to your condition”.

“My ability to smile”, I said.

“Yes, that’s right. Before you become invisible, you purr and smile. Is there a reason for this?”, she goaded me on. I knew it didn’t make any sense to be secretive, so I decided to be up front with her.

“I don’t know. That’s just how it is. When I need to disappear, my body vibrates, which sounds like a purr. The smile is what sends signals to my brain, to bend light around my body, or an object I’m touching; which then becomes invisible. Serotonin, dopamine… whatever. It works”. I sighed. “Where are we going with this?”.

“Task Force X, under the day to day leadership of Colonel Flag, has an opening. I want you to fill that spot”.

“Why?”, I asked, genuinely wondering.

“Because making things and people disappear is handy, in some of the missions the Force may have coming up”.

“But what is in it for me?”

“10 years of your sentence, per mission”, Waller replied, and closed the file.

“What sentence? I haven’t done anything in a long time”, I said, voice shaking lightly.

“16 months ago, judge Jeremiah Kelper disappeared for a week, before an anonymous tip led the police to him, bound, bloody and gagged, in a warehouse on Gotham Harbor”. Waller folded her hands in front of her, and met my eyes again. “When he woke up at the hospital, he was ranting about a “ghost” that had drugged him, dragged him to the warehouse; and held him for days, tied to a chair. The “ghost” had beat him several times with a pipe, and… well, let’s not get further in to that”.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like someone had it in for him”.

“Sounds like”, Waller half whispered. “I also know that Kelpers records are much cleaner than he is. But then there’s the money”.

“What money”, I asked, looking first at Waller, then up at Flag, who smirked at me.

“1 million dollars, cash, disappeared from a safe at Wayne Tower, two months ago. What did you spend it on?”, he asked.

Shit, they got me, I thought. “I donated it”.

“Some of it”; Waller said, and reopened the file. “987.000 dollars were donated anonymously to a local shelter for battered women, two days later”.

I leant forward; and Flag quickly took a step towards the table, putting his arm in front of Waller.

“Calm down, soldier”, I said. “From what I hear, The Wayne Foundation matched my donation to the same shelter, not long after”.

“You’re right”, Waller said. “It seems to me, you want to be one of the good guys”. I smirked again. “But you’re not. You’re a villain, Y/N – one of the bad guys. But you can make that badness have a purpose”.

I leant back again, and Flag relaxed, stepping back. He folded his arms – those arms – and leant against the wall, toying with the id-card attached to his t-shirt sleeve.

“Show me what you can do”, Waller demanded.

“I can’t”, I said, looking back at Wallers now surprised face. “I need energy to smile, and for the last – what – month or so, I’ve been living on stale toast and kibble”, I admitted.

“Flag”, Waller said, and the soldier took a candy bar from his pants pocket, and placed it in front of me. With my free hand shaking, I opened the wrapper, and put it to my lips. Taking a bite of the heavenly chocolate, feeling the wonderful sensation of sugar rushing through my system; I moaned.

“Mhmm”. Flag stepped back to wall again, looking uncomfortable at my sounds. I couldn’t help myself. “Got anything else in those pants for me?”, I purred; and as he quickly looked away from my face, I smiled.

Touching the table with my free hand, it went away in a mist, making the file folder look as if it was floating in midair. Wallers eyes went wide. I kicked of one slipper, touching the floor with my bare foot, and suddenly, the floor was gone, leaving the three of us as if standing on clear glass.

Looking down, I saw a cell, no bigger than my own had been, though better furnished; with a cot, a toilet, a couple of nudie posters, and a tiny table. In the middle of the room stood a rugged looking man, clutching a toy unicorn in his arms. He looked up, eyes large; before looking towards Waller. He smiled widely, gold tooth gleaming, and though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was clear it was along the lines of “I see London, I see France, I see Wallers underpants”. Waller crossed her legs quickly, and looked at me, with a mix of horror and excitement plastered on her face.

“Enough!”, she shouted.

That’s when I made myself disappear before their eyes.

Flag and Waller looked around the room trying to find me, before Flag ran across the invisible floor, towards the chair, grabbing for what I guess he thought would be my shoulder, but ended up being my right breast. Confused at the softness, his brow furrowed.

My energy gave out. The floor, the table, and lastly my body, reappeared. Realizing where his hand was, Flag jumped back, looking at his hand, face reddening. “Thanks for that”, I smiled at him flirtatiously. He turned his back to me and clenched his guilty hand into a fist.

“I think I’ve seen everything I need to”, Waller said, standing back up again, picking up the folder. “Training starts tomorrow. Once the colonel has calmed down a bit, he’ll make sure you get a proper meal”. She went for the door.

“Waller!”, I stopped her dead in her tracks. “Tell me, did Kelpers balls ever pop back down?”.

She smiled crookedly at me. “I hear he’s going to need some reconstructive surgery”.

She walked out the door, leaving me with Flag.

Flag unlocked the cuffs, and pulled me up. “Think you’ll be able to walk yourself this time?”.

I leant towards him, putting my hands on his chest. Fuck, you’re firm, I thought.

“I might need a little help. Feel free to grab a hold of me anywhere”, I beamed at him.

Flag roughly put my arms behind my back, and cuffed them together. “Let’s go, kitten”, he scoffed, and pushed me in front of him, out of the door. My friends The Tweedles were waiting outside. “Get her back to her cell. Make sure the lights are on until 2200 hours. And get her a proper meal”.

As Tweedle Dee and Dum supported my still weak body walking down the hall, I looked back at Flag.

“You like me”, I flirted, and his face reddened again, before he turned around, and walked in the opposite direction.

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #amanda waller

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Delectable [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Summary: This was meant to be a one shot but I had so fun much writing it I honestly want to make it a series. Fluff with some light angst and mutual pining tropes. Reader has an infatuation with her boss, Maxwell Lord but gets mixed signals and is unsure if he feels the same way.

Warnings: alcohol consumption.

Pairing: Reader x Maxwell Lord

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There was no denying that you and Maxwell Lord had chemistry. You had been his secretary for the past two years, serving under him every second of every day – and you wouldn’t want it any other way. You knew all his little secrets and of course the pay was good, it was Max Lord after all. But it was the little things; the way your heart jumped when you brushed shoulders with him in the corridor and the frenzy of butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you were called into his office. You weren’t just his secretary, you were… something else. He gave you a sense of belonging and importance. When he worked late, and everyone else went home, you would stay the night in his office to make sure you could be there if he needed you. Maxwell didn’t ask for much from you – he had his own personal assistant, but he liked your company. You knew you were special to him because you were told by your colleagues that secretary’s had come and go prior to you, but he always made an effort to make you stay. Your colleagues had never seen Maxwell be so infatuated with anyone the way he was with you. Yet, he kept everything professional and you got the hint. He wanted you here, but you could never show him how much you needed him. Through pay rises and buying you random expensive gifts, he thought he could buy his way to your heart but truthfully, he owned you from the second you laid eyes on him.

You tapped your fingers against the front desk, bored, zoning in and out of whatever was playing on the radio. Wake me up before you go-go ‘cause I’m not planning on going solo. You couldn’t help but bop your head to WHAM’s latest release when your phone buzzed, interrupting your empty thoughts. You looked at the display and saw it was Max. You glanced up to his office door and then back down at the ringing phone. You were based right outside his office yet he always called you when he wanted something from you. You took a deep breath and straightened your posture, as if he could see you, and answered the phone.

“Y/N, can you come into my office?” His voice was like Bourbon. The way the words lingered on his tongue made your knees weak and your head spin.

“Of course.” You croaked out in attempt of sounding as gracious as possible. He hung up the phone and you sunk into your chair, face palming and rolling your eyes back annoyed at how pathetic you probably sounded. You pressed open your desk drawer and quickly checked yourself in the mirror, barely re-styling your hair and touching up your lip gloss. You stood upright and entered his office, conscious of the way you presented yourself in front of him

When you entered his spacious office, he was stood looking out the large windows behind his desk that overlooked New York City. You were blessed to be based at the top of his skyscraper and to have such a beautiful view of the bustling city beneath you. He was wearing his tailored grey suit, which tugged on every piece of muscle and sculpted his body so perfectly. You couldn’t help but check him out. It was like he could feel your eyes burn into him when he turned around to face you. His face always caught you off guard. It was so mesmerising. You found yourself staring at him for an extended period of time in silence, and he was gazing at you back. He tilted his head slightly and looked you up and down. Your eyes followed his and you realised he was checking you out too. Immediately, your knees felt weak. You walked to the seat opposing his desk and sat down. He watched your every movement, probably taking in the way you stumbled under his stare.

“I think it’s going to be another late night tonight.” Max said, matter of factly. He pointed over to a stack of papers on the other side of the room. “Contracts to sign… and you know, business stuff.” He shrugged.

“I understand.” You told him and he briefly nodded at you.

“You don’t have to stay. You know that, right?” Max walked up to you in your chair and crouched down to your level. There was barely any space between you both and you could’ve sworn you were close enough to feel the heat radiate from his skin. His voice was low and raspy, and his eyes were dark like chocolate. You gulped nervously. He knew you wanted to stay. He knew you lived alone, no family in New York, no partner… you were so certain that he knew how much you wanted him. As if you couldn’t make it any more obvious. He was wrapped around your finger.

“I want- I want to stay.” You stammered and his lips curved into a smirk. You felt your cheeks burn up and you broke eye contact with him, looking at your red heels, dragging them across the carpet anxiously. Max stood up so he was towering over you, making you feel small and vulnerable – and yet, safe in his presence.

“So I’ll see you, tonight.” Max said and you stood up realising it was your queue to leave. “When everyone goes home, come to my office.” He instructed you and you nodded obediently. He flashed you one of his award winning smiles and you turned away, scurrying out of his office and back to your desk outside. That’s all he wanted. He called you into his office to ask you if you’d spend the night with him. Your mind was racing. Okay, that’s not exactly what he said. He was going to be working. And you were to be…

You cursed under your breath. He just wanted your company. You found your mind racing until the end of your shift as you played out every possibility of what could happen tonight. Or so you thought. When the sun had set and you glanced up. His personal assistant, Rebecca, said her farewells to Max and she closed his office door. You stood up, preparing yourself to enter his office but Rebecca snapped at you. “He told me to tell you, five minutes.” She snarled. You furrowed your eyebrows at her tone.

“Excuse me?” You saw red. Your survival instincts kicked in. You knew when you had rivalry, and Rebecca was exactly that.

“He’s been talking about you all afternoon,” Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked you up and down in disgust. “Don’t know why. Five minutes.” She repeated before walking away, taking the elevator.

Whatever. She was just his personal assistant. But- she was beautiful. Long black hear and emerald green eyes. Suddenly you felt extremely insecure. You slouched back into your chair and began to pick the nail polish of your nails feeling defeated. There was no way you could ever come close to competing with Rebecca’s good looks. You lost track of time and broke out of your disorganised thoughts when Maxwell approached you.

“You staying out here all night?” He asked, checking his gold Rolex wrist watch. “I told Becky five minutes. Did you not get the message?”

Becky.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I did.”

“It’s been 10 minutes.” Max informed. You were avoiding eye contact with him, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. “Doll, is everything alright?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his choice of nickname for you. Doll. His concern put you at ease and you were able to relax. He leaned close to you and placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you were finally looking up at him. He moved his hand upwards and his fingers met your lips as he traced the outline of them. You were as still as possible, refraining from opening your mouth just slightly and nibbling his fingers. When he eventually moved his hand away from your face you caught his signature smirk once again. The same smirk that made your knees weak earlier and made you feel all kinds of things you shouldn’t be feeling about your boss. You followed him into his office. The lights were out and it was candle lit, with a silk blanket on the floor, two wine glasses and a bottle of New York’s finest Chateau Latour red wine. You looked at him in awe only to see him beaming, looking… proud? You were speechless. Had he done this, for you? On the floor was a little wicker picnic basket with a baguette sticking out.

“I know how hard you work,” Max said softly, his hand meeting the curve in your back. You shivered at his touch and let out a light gasp. “So I wanted do something special for you.” This time, you felt his eyes burn into you.

“Sir…” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Please doll, call me Max.” He said, lowering his hand down your back. You nodded in response. He pushed you gently towards the silk blanket on the floor and took your hand, guiding you to the ground. He then proceeded to walk over to his desk and tapped a button on his phone, creating a buzzing noise. You wondered what he was doing but it would soon become evident. He sat down next to you and began to pour you out a glass of the red wine. “So… do you like this?” He asked.

“I-“ you started. You figured you better take a sip of the wine in hope you could relax a little. “I never thought. I mean,” you tried to choose your words carefully as the pressure hit you under his gaze. “This is amazing.” You breathed.

He mumbled something incoherent and leaned into you. You could smell his aftershave that probably cost more than your NYC apartment and you felt the hairs on your arms spring up. His lips were less than an inch away from your neck but just then, his office doors sprung open and a band of three men in stripy shirts and berets walked in holding violins. You raised your eyebrows and Max groaned after being interrupted, repositioning himself more suitably for his guests. “Max… what is this…”

The three men began to play their violin pieces and you stifled back laughter. Okay – what was going on? What kind of game was Maxwell Lord playing? You looked over him and watched him take a sip of his wine. You were in such disbelief. You and Max listened to the violinists play for a good twenty minutes and finished the bottle of wine between you both. You felt yourself feeling a little tipsy but sober enough to not forget a moment of this simply surreal experience. Max had removed his grey suit jacket and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his white shirt, exposing his tan chest. If it was up to you, and maybe you had a few more glasses of wine in your system, you’d get him to unbutton the rest and take it off completely. But you weren’t yet drunk enough to take it that far with your boss. You had, however, felt increasingly more relaxed. The violinists left and you finished picking at the baguette Max had brought. It was just you two.

“Why?” You asked, breaking the silence. His head snapped to look at you. “Why all of this? For me. I don’t. I don’t understand.”

Max hesitated but then replied. “You work hard.” He replied simply, avoiding eye contact. It didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense. All of this. Expensive wine, violinists, dining on the floor of his office and laying on a silk rug. All of this, for you. “I gotta show you something,” he reached behind him and grabbed a controller from the shelf – one you had never seen before. “This is a new piece of technology. No one else in the tristate area has one of these.” He told you, passing you the controller. “See that red button? Press it, and then look up at the skylight.”

You followed his instruction and pressed the button. The skylight above you opened up, mechanically like nothing you had ever seen before, exposing the abyss above.

“Wow…” you whispered, admiring the way the pearly white stars pierced the velvety blue black sky. “It’s beautiful Max.”

“I know,” he murmured. But he wasn’t even looking at the sky, he was looking at you, taking in your beauty under the moonlight.

Just then, he pressed his lips against yours, taking your breath away. You gasped, opening your mouth a little only letting his tongue slip in and deepen the kiss. His lips were sweet like honey. You pressed your body into his and he held you close as your fingers laced his blonde hair. This right here, in this moment, was what you had dreamed of since the very first moment you laid eyes on Maxwell Lord, all those years ago.

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Okay, part two will be coming soon. Thanks for reading!

#max lord #pedro pascal #maxwell lord #ww 84 #wonder woman #wonder woman 1984 #fan fiction #fluff #angst #fic #one shot #mutual pining #dc comics #dc #dc movies #diana prince #wonderwoman #reader x max lord

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rxsilixnce · 4 years

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I have some really profound analyzations I want to share of the masterpiece “Jennifer’s Body” after watching it so many times over the last couple years. Too bad Transformers fucked Megan Fox over because she doesn’t get the rep she deserves, she is such a talented actress and she’s been so overlooked.

Jennifer and Needy have an intensely strong connection with one another, yet Needy doesn’t fully understand Jennifer until the end of the movie. They both have lots of intuition and they can sense what the other is planning or doing. Needy doesn’t have to tell Jennifer who she likes, Jennifer already knows, and when Jennifer shows up at her house, Needy knows its her. They have said “Hopeless” at the exact same time, when Needy and Chip were having sex, and when Jennifer was murdering Collin. At prom, the feeling on her lips was Jennifer kissing Chip. Needy knows exactly where to go in order to save Chip. Their connection is almost supernatural. They look at each other like they are in some sort of a trance, especially Jennifer, she adores Needy, especially when Needy watched her cheer from the bleachers and how Jennifer waves at her, and how she tucks Needy’s hair behind her ear and admires her before kissing her. When Jennifer says “We can play boyfriend, girlfriend like we used to,” it reveals that they may have been with each other sexually before, and it also shows Jennifers desperation to always have Needy by her side and her attraction towards her. Jennifer is quickly dismissive over Needy’s concerns, yet Needy still comes to the right conclusions. When Needy begged her not to get in the van with the band, Jennifer told her to “Shut up,” when Needy kept asking her what happened the night of the fire and what happened when Jennifer showed up at her house covered in blood, Jennifer kept acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. After Jennifer opened up about the night some, Needy figures out, “Maybe you did die that night.” After Needy asks what she needs to do to “stay full,” Jennifer dismisses her yet again says, “You know Needy, maybe you should talk to someone about these disturbing thoughts that you’re having,” and “I think Chip may be having second thoughts about you.” This is an attempt to force Needy into feeling insecure and protect herself from Needy knowing the full truth, but Needy connects the dots on what Jennifer means, as the next day at school she imagines Jennifer with blood running down her face. Jennifer seems to know exactly how to manipulate Needy, until the end of the movie...

In the film, Jennifer continuously says the word “hopeless,” more importantly, she says, “I need you hopeless.” Now, we know that Anita (Amanda Seyfried) was nicknamed “Needy” by Jennifer, and I believe Jennifer and Needy had a codependent relationship, majorly initiated by Jennifer because she wants Needy to be reliant on her and “hopeless” without her. The word “hopeless” is also written in blood on the wall in the pool scene. You see this constantly throughout the movie, Needy listens to demands from Jennifer, Jennifer is the leader, the alpha. Needy is starstruck in the beginning as she watches Jennifer cheer. “People find it hard to believe that a babe like Jennifer would associate with a dork like me.” Needy immediately changes plans with her boyfriend after Jennifer guilts her into going out, “You and me are going out tonight.” After an attempt to tell her she already has plans, Jennifer says “Boo, crossing out Needy,” “Wear something cute, okay?” Jennifer makes Needy scared to loose her and doesn’t take no for an answer, and Needy does whatever she says in return. Jennifer criticizes Needy and especially her boyfriend, “It smells like Thai food in here, have you guys been fucking?” “You’re totally jealous.” Needy and her associations will always be lower than Jennifers, making Needy feel like she is owned by Jennifer. Jennifer schedules Needy’s life and tells her what to do, she can’t even call her boyfriend without Jennifer saying, “Crossing you out” to insight fear into Needy. Jennifer kills Needy’s boyfriend Chip, and others who may be a threat for coming too close to Needy, she is angered by Amet, Jonas, and Collin for gaining attention from Needy. Jennifer needs Needy to be her ultimate, the only power figure in her life, and she eliminates anyone who could take that away from her. When a guy is talking to Needy at the bar, Jennifer talks down to him, walks over and grabs him, showing him that Needy is her property. “Are you gonna cuff me?”

However, when we are taken to the flashbacks of their childhood together, because “Sandbox love never dies,” Needy is actually the more protective one and has much more confidence than Jennifer, “Don’t tell my mom, she’ll give me a shot.” Jennifer is weak and insecure yet puts on a facade of being the superficial popular girl. We know this because we see Jennifer’s weak side time and time again throughout the film. For example, before she is killed she shows genuine fear and humanity, when she is in the van with the men who killed her, she tries hard to convince them that she isn’t the person they want to kill, because she thought they didn’t want a virgin. As she is stabbed, she is screaming and crying, begging them not to kill her. She appears to be fierce and indestructible, but she’s really sensitive and she is the one who needs Needy, she relies on Needy to depend on her. Needy appears to be an empath and she is also secure in herself, and she cares for Jennifer deeply, when Jennifer continues to watch the band when the fire starts, Needy pulls her out of the bar, and begs her not to get into the van with the band, as she fears for Jennifers safety. “I watched her get into that van and I knew something awful was going to happen.” Jennifer is clearly easily manipulated and gullible, as it doesn’t take much to convince her to get into a van with men she hardly knows. Jennifer cares about Needy somewhat, but she mainly cares for herself and her own needs, therefore, has taken away anyone who would give Needy happiness other than herself, and showed no remorse for anyone she has killed or the innocent people who died in the bar that burned down. Jennifer is a coward, and she doesn’t want anyone to know about the relationship she wants to have with needy, “Don’t talk to yourself, that’s one of your more freakish behaviors, and it makes us both look like total gaylords.” She preys on Jonas when he is weaker and devastated about loosing his best friend in the fire, because he will be easier to manipulate. “It’s what Craig would have wanted.” After killing/dominating Jonas, she feels stronger than she did before, and she takes pride in hurting other people, because it makes her feel powerful. She calls Needy and tells her “I’m having the like the best day since Jesus invented the calendar.” She gets insecure when Needy answers the other line, “Don’t blow me off? Boo, i’m crossing you out.” “I am a god,” she declares to Needy after Needy and Chip decide to go out together. When Needy arrives to rescue Chip, she accuses Jennifer of being insecure, Jennifer gets defensive and says, “I am not insecure, Needy. God, that’s a joke, how could I ever be insecure? I was the snowflake queen.” Needy continues criticizing her, “You were two years ago, when you didn’t have to take laxatives to stay skinny,” at which point she is so angered at Needy and screams, “I am going, to eat your soul, and shit it out!” Although, Jennifer didn’t, because she couldn’t, she could have demolished both Needy and Chip with the amount of demonic powers she has, but she chose not to.

Another reason why Jennifer is so territorial over Needy is because Jennifer has a strong hatred for men, and sees them as toys to play with. While she views needy as the only person she has a connection with, and she really sees Needy as higher than herself for that reason. She could never hurt or kill Needy, and doesn’t appear to want to kill any other girl, because she views women as more valuable than men. She see’s men as so worthless, that she can kill them with no remorse. After Needy says, “You’re killing people!” she replies with “No, i’m killing boys...” insinuating that its no big deal. She also says “Boys are just placeholders, they come and go.” When Jennifer shows up at Needy’s house after being killed and raids the food in the fridge, Jennifer pushes her against a wall and asks, “Are you scared?” after Needy says yes, she gets close to Needy’s neck and we think she is going to bite her, but Jennifer pushes her temptations away and throws her across the room and leaves to protect Needy from herself, because she can’t bare the pain of hurting Needy. Jennifer grabs Needy’s boobs in the bar and encouraged her to use her body to get what she wants, which today is a clear portrayal of empowerment for some modern day feminists. After Collins is practically drooling over Needy in the hallway, Jennifer steps in and asks him to ask her out, she rejects him and explains to Needy, “He listens to maget-rock and he wears black nail polish, my dick is bigger than his.” After seeing how much Collins means to Needy, she accepts his offer to not only make Needy more dependent on her, but to gain the trust of the boys and lure them in to eliminate them. This makes Needy feel invalidated and Jennifer convinces her that nice things won’t come her way unless Jennifer is the top dog. This is confirmed when Jennifer says that she can have one of the lower band mates, but not the top one, because he is hers, and when she says how Chip has been looking really cute to her recently after needy blows her off to do something with him. The reason she is so sexist is simply because she has always seen men as a threat that would take away the only person she can be emotionally dependent on.

Again, Jennifer could never hurt Needy, and Needy goes after Jennifer later to kill her in order to protect other boys from getting killed, Needy knows this is what she has to do, she now sees Jennifer accurately and she realizes the horrible person Jennifer is, though, this is exactly was Jennifer wanted, she needed Needy so badly so that ultimately, she would kill her. In the beginning, it was not like this, but after becoming a succubus, and feeling “empty” so much and being forced to kill to keep herself alive and powerful, Jennifer had enough. The moment Jennifer made the decision to go after Chip, she made the decision to let Needy go, because after facing so much rejection from Needy, and the charm she once had on her faded completely, Jennifer was more insecure and heartbroken than ever, she didn’t want to live if she couldn’t have Needy, and she knew that if Needy felt betrayed enough, she would kill her. She also couldn’t hurt Needy since she is in love with her, making Needy the only person that could kill her. Jennifer could have went on a rampage and killed anyone she wanted to after Chip’s attack to make herself strong and beautiful again, but she chose to go home hungry and weak and wait for Needy to come murder her. Jennifer pretends to fight Needy, and give her all into hurting her, but keep in mind she has to make Needy feel strong and brave enough to kill her, so she criticizes her and continues to act like the villain, “Do you buy all you’re murder weapons at Home Depot? God you’re butch.” We then see Needy say “I’m crossing you out,” the line Jennifer used for so long to have power over Needy, the power exchange is exactly what Jennifer wants. Needy rips their BFF necklace off Jennifers neck and we are shown an emotional moment of it falling to the floor, this symbolizes the end of their friendship, relationship, and codependency. Jennifer’s plan has been a success as she see’s Needy will be okay without her, and she knows their relationship is over, she lets everything down and allows Needy to kill her. After Needy stabs her in the chest, Jennifer says, “My tit,” and Needy says “No, your heart.” However, Needy was not okay without Jennifer, in fact, Jennifer destroyed her, “I don’t know who Needy Lesnicki is anymore,” she says as she is shown in a jail/mental hospital. We are shown that she will become a succubus herself after Jennifer bit her, which is what Jennifer wanted, and yet again, we are shown how selfish Jennifer was, she wanted Needy to become what she hated most. “You just might absorb some of the demons abilities, and you just might get lucky for once in your miserable life.”

Jennifer is truly not like any other “classic mean girl” portrayed in Hollywood movies, and it’s so sad to me that Jennifer’s Body received bad ratings since I feel Jennifer and Needy are such complex characters with an interesting relationship. Needy may not even be bisexual like Jennifer, she may have just been so enticed and manipulated by Jennifer and looked up to her in ways of wanting to be like her. This would explain why Needy was so bothered by Jennifer kissing her, because she really just saw Jennifer as a mentor, and why wouldn’t she? She had to be jealous of Jennifer, she had to want certain qualities Jennifer possessed, she watched so many boys leave her for Jennifer. And in the end, Needy became Jennifer.

#jennifers body #megan fox #amanda seyfried #horror #movie #dailyhorrorfilms #movie reviews #lesbian #needy lesnicki #jennifer check #hidden message #jennifer's body icon icons 00s

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years

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AU after the revolution Connor becomes a “symbol of escaping your oppressors (esp sexually-conservative parents)” by becoming Markus’ partner and is very uncomfortable with everyone using him as just an object to project their fears and fantasies onto. He gets called a thot and “Markus’ good little slut” just for kissing and he hates it, the amount of pron people make of him makes him puke. No matter how hard they try, they can’t ignore how fetishized/objectified their relationship is becoming

You have no idea how vastly I love you for your prompt, Anon.

I took this prompt on for many reasons.

As an ally, it's imperative to respect and uplift all forms of love. It becomes a problem when we actively seek it out for the "entertainment value." There are people behind those alternative lifestyles with their own struggles on a daily basis. They are human, not 2d paper and pen figment of some of all perversions. They're not here to be anyone's form of sexual excitement, period. If someone asked me now why had so much more homosexual pairings instead of hetero, I got my receipts for each and every one of them, and I promise "they so cute" is not my first thought. If it is for you, well might give this a thought or two. And, no, I am NOT singling anyone out, never that.😌

Anyways, I'm off my soapbox now. I just felt l I owed it to my friends out there to say that they aren't just "quirky, gay babies, uwu."

That said, you'll have to pry booty shorts-wearing, nail polish bedazzling Connor from my cold, dead hands. I know he can be a BAMF, break my neck, and still be adorable while doing so. That's just gospel, sis. 😏

Markus and Connor had decided to go public with their relationship sooner rather than later for a myriad of reasons. There was a history between the two that no Android alive now would forget.

The famous deviant leader and the infamous deviant hunter now in a romantic relationship was the talk of New Jericho.

Of course, those hurt during the period of time that Connor had not Hu deviated was the louder voice heard from the masses. They didn't establish the 'ex' on deviant hunter for a reason. They were bitter, intimidated, and above all else, felt the relationship between the two men betrayed something that Markus had pledged to them. So long as Connor was just there acting as the security on his off time from the DPD, no one cared. As soon as he showed true signs of his deviation, that he could indeed understand the concept of emotions like love... Well, to many that was unacceptable. What about their friends and possible lost lovers in the original Jericho? They, the murmuring androids, knew that he would have been shackled to his programming, that until it was broken, he would have been just as much a slave to his protocol as they would have been in his place.

The funny thing about emotions though is it tended to make you irrational.

Connor was forever cautious when at New Jericho despite Markus and North, Josh, and Simon finally taking him under their wing. He heard those murmurs, though. It wasn't like he did not have good hearing. Then there were the social protocols that let him know that others were uncomfortable around him. Maybe they glanced away upon looking at him or more obviously changed positions to get away from wherever he strolled.

Connor hated the feeling but he wore the mass shunning like a Scarlet Letter around his neck.

Markus and the others knew of Connor's treatment. Markus often publicly condemned the behavior. It worked for some, others revolted against it. That's when they changed tactics.

Connor immediately became apprehensive about the sudden change in behavior over the next month. No longer did those who meet him look away or run from him, but more and more an odd behavior happened in some.

Connor was met with blushes, flustered looks while others, male, female, or other, looked at him with a look that could only be described as hostility mixed with lust. It caused him to recoil away from those who wore those looks, recalling how North had confided candidly in him, shared memories of how she'd been treated. Those human faces matched those of these Androids.

Markus had come to him without him knowing, so caught up in the sea of emotions he was, pulling him away.

When Connor looked at the other man, his face looked tired. He looked overall defeated and hurt. Before Connor could ask, Markus took him back to his office and gently sat him in his office chair behind Markus all in one desktop he used to interface with when going over things. It was not long before North busted in the office, Simon right behind her, both taking there side by Connor. Josh came in lathe st closing the door and locked it.

Connor was wary. What was going on? Markus began talking to him telling him about how about a month or so ago a new online group had been created, a forum. It revolved around their relationship solely. He told Connor that the maker of the room was in custody, as well as several of the main instigators, that he was heartbroken that this was happening, that he should have done more and to not concern himself, he was taking care of it and to never look at the site as they worked to close it down for good.

The LED on Connor's temple pulsed yellow and Markus had to stop him from searching for it, instead interfaced with the PC front of him on his desk. He knew Connor would want to go to it regardless. He was too inquisitive for his own good.

The website seemed pretty benign, it even had a cute shorthand for their relationship as 'RK1K' or 'R1000'.

Connor gently shed the human skin and interfaced with the site.

It was wasn't cute or sweet at all if the tightening if his other hand on the armrest indicated with the squeal of leather in the starkly quiet room. North's fiery glare was in one screen as well though she gently pulled his fingers away from the chair willing him to grab at her own hand, even if his strength in his stress crushed it. Simon placed a resting friendly hand on his thigh, sad eyes turned up to him.

Markus wrapped his arms around his lover's shoulders and rested his head on one shoulder, also taking in the devastating effects of what misguided hatred could do again with Connor.

The tears came naturally to his eyes as he took in the sheer volume of disrespectful post one after another. Pictures and videos edit made to look very realistic of Connor in a very harmful or demeaning role in his relationship with Markus.

They really did have him as if he was just Markus' slave, literal pet, or even more insulting, just a hole to use, eluding Markus still remained with North but they agreed to this arrangement due to her history as a known sex model. This was insulting to not only him but also North, cheapening her struggle.

Others said that this was his new attack on the android leader: get him used to him, in a relationship with himself, and then when they were in the throes of passion he'd strike like some twisted black widow.

The group chat was abhorrent. Connor to them was little more than a beautiful carcass. He meant nothing to them but they'd be willing to bed him. The female-presenting androids made him little more than just some sort of soft, weak invalid that lived only for Markus to dominate in and out of the bedroom. Others just lusted for them both, striping everything that was Markus and Connor away to nothing but rutting animals, nothing further.

The screen turned off with the withdraw of Connor's hand from it. He was up and out of the chair on his way, away from here. He could not do this with these people.

Markus was right after him.

North and Simon were calling all Androids on the campus for a meeting while Josh had been working on ways to fully dismantle such an awful website.

About time Markus caught up to Connor, he was in a self-driving cab, whisking away from New Jericho, Markus knew most likely to Hank's House called his own to go there.

The meeting went exactly as one would expect from two extremely pissed leaders, one who could remain level headed regardless, and the third finally joined giving the names of the known accused and that the site was permanently shut down. There was no grumbling because they knew that it would be more issues. They all have seen Connor flee the compound, markus on his heels.

For however angry North was, nothing would compare to Markus when he showed that side of him to the people that caused this and the others that cast a blind eye to this sort of abuse, allowing for it.

When Connor reached Hank's door, he knocked hard but couldn't see well due to the tears. His face was flushed as they poured down his face. It was not long before the older father figure lieutenant let Connor inside just as Markus pulled up in his own taxi.

After Hank was assured Markus was not the cause of Connor's distress, he was admitted into the house as well. Markus immediately went and held on to Connor. They were both hurting from that level of hatred.

Of course, Markus would be upset and just as hurt as if the subject matter was him. He loved Connor and the sheer disrespect for the one he cared for was a slap in the face to him, as well.

The situation was explained to Hank, who was livid for them both, and sad that the other Androids couldn't see Connor for himself. Dad powers activated and Connor would stay with him for a while, away from Jericho.

Weeks pass, Markus is hurting and the rest of the leaders can see just how much Connor helped with smoothing the frayed edges in Markus own personality when he was tired, hurt. He tended to be snappish, not meaning to be. While he still did everything required, the whole of Jericho started to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sure, there would still be those who just treated the situation like Markus lost a favorite toy like Connor wasn't even a person, to begin with. As if Markus was throwing a tantrum in the face of genuine mistreatment.

Others though would likely see the pain they caused, fear what would happen if, though unlikely but improbable, Markus decided to walk away from all of this as a leader in the Deviants for his lover.

There are very real rumors.

It's not like they don't see Josh counseling his friend and brother daily when Markus anxiously paces the floor, the sometimes bitter and harsh words directed at no one stating the same grief he feels from this strife of his people and who he's chosen to love in the end. Or how he leaves all things that can be to the three leaders now, where before it wasn't an issue to wear that heavy crown of leadership primarily. Or how when he can he sneaks off to the old human Lieutenant's house to see the ex-deviant hunter and second he can because of that love.

Yeah, the vast majority of people are feeling like they fucked up, including any androids who dared to join in with this witch hunt for Connor and they were part of the group he directly deviated and saved from Cyberlife.

Fractions start to happen among the group, those for and against Connor's presence like finally some of those saved remembered some semblance of loyalty to him. North is fucking done with this shit. All she knows is that she misses her awkward murder baby that is so much more than just arm candy to Markus and it takes both Simon and Josh to keep her from charging into another dispute of Connor this week.

"Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what you are talking about, the person you are trying to tear down just because of his past and programming."

Of course, she'd vested. It was an explicit reminder of her own life before Jericho and how people, human and Android, loved to devalue someone with a sexual abuse past.

Connor's was mentally and emotionally abuse he suffered. The abuse was abuse at the end of the day. He had confided in her. She had seen Amanda...

From that day on, it seemed quieter about the Connor subject.

Six months.

It took six months of Markus creeping to see his lover that felt an outcast, North railing at any Android who dared speak ill of Connor, and Simon and Josh going to see him at the old lieutenant's house.

Simon had missed Connor, too. Though he was quieter about the whole thing, it didn't mean he didn't suffer the same.

Connor was so unique. He could be so cold and calculating in the heat of the moment, gun out, ready to go. But in private, talking about the 'family' dog Sumo, sharing snapshots of him, and talking about a new soft sweater he thought Simon might like as well.

Simon helped Connor with his identity as a homosexual man and as such, they bonded together. Between him and North scheming when they had a night out, it was so hilarious and refreshing.

He missed him.

Josh enjoyed Connor's brand of humor. It was dry as the Sahara, and typically delivered deadpan and it murdered him. Connor did laugh like a madman, but it was typically in Markus presence at his dry humor or sarcasm.

All the while Connor was gone, Markus and Connor talked about the dilemma. Whether Markus came and got him for lunch or they met after work at Hank's place, they talked about it, kept their communication strong, and their relationship stronger. It had been hard for them, and blame had been spread, mostly hurt fueled from Connor's side to Markus initially that this even happened under their leadership. Markus mutely had taken it, feeling as though he could have done more. Then Connor would apologize, realizing that his past was not anyone else fault but his own, that he deserved this treatment to which Markus would rally against, telling him he was good and kind, no he most definitely did not deserve this disrespect. In time, the storm calmed between them and Connor knew what to do.

On a cool, wet morning in October, Connor Anderson moved back into New Jericho, back into the living quarters with one Markys Manfred. Sure, there were murmurs but nothing like before.

One android saw this again felt some sort of way about Connor and his existence at Jericho. Just as she readied her verbal barbs, another shut her down before she could even start.

Connor witness it; Markus did too, as did North, Simon, and Josh as they were welcoming him back. A majority of people saw this brave soul stand up for one of their leaders as they had never done before.

It makes a difference in the way Connor is perceived and treated. Instead of the leadership having to police the situation, the fear of another common android speaking out for Connor and against the naysayer's curves the negative vibe that attempts to take hold again.

Connor is now welcomed back by the majority of New Jericho, not the minority, and things are back to running smoothly as before he left.

#rk1k #rk1000 #conkus #marnor #dbh #connor x markus #ask #anonymous #post canon #tw: mlm fetishizing #tw: depression #tw: relationship struggles #tw: cyberbullying #whole ass story #enjoy

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