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triviadimplesblog · 10 months

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Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Warnings: violence, guns,

The Crimson Horizon Masterlist

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Chapter Eight

Life had been kind to Brianne from the moment she impulsively decided to save Chibs, Tig, and Bobby. It was the best decision of her life, now that she looked back, whether or not it was impulsive. Now, five months into her relationship with Chibs, she had been ecstatic. She was riding with the boys, getting more important assignments as the months drew closer and closer to the one-year mark. She had formed good friendships with everyone around, except for Wendy. Speaking off, Jax and Wendy decided to end things, but then Wendy came forward and announced that she was pregnant. However, Jax still things it's not gonna work out between them so he allowed her to stay at their previously shared house and he was spending his nights at the Clubhouse.

Brianne and Chibs' relationship, however, had been smooth sailing. They had taken it slow for the first month, but then something between them shifted and suddenly they were spending nights at each others' places, even for a few nights in a row. Chibs almost had all his stuff at Brianne's apartment at this point. She didn't complain, she loved having him there as much as possible. To fall asleep while he was holding her, then waking up in his arms – it was a dream come true.

They had become the hot topic when it came to teasing, though. And their number one bully? Tig freaking Trager. He was not letting go of the fact that he slept with Brianne before she and Chibs got together and now he's using any chance he could get to mess with the Scotsman. For that one time Brianne was touching up her bike, trying to fix a minor issue. Chibs was by her side, guiding her through the process, explaining which part of the machinery did what and what she needed to look out for. Neither of them noticed Tig and Juice entering. „What are you now, some motorcycle expert or something?" Tig had said jokingly, looking at Brianne.

„She's got some serious skills for this. Quick learner." Chibs shot him a wary smile, hoping that was the end of it. Brianne smiled at the compliment, looking over her handy work.

Tig snickered and Brianne knew right away that he was about to shoot one of his lame jokes. „She's got other skills you're enjoying too, right?" She looked at Tig just in time to see him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Chibs and Juice laughing beside him. She rolled her eyes playfully, although she was used to his teasing by now.

„Just let me work on my bike in peace, bastard." She had said, feeling Chibs' supporting hand patting her shoulder.

Being a Prospect for these idiots wasn't easy. Half-Sack got the short end of the stick when it comes to that though. Sometimes she felt sorry for the fella, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she tried to defend him, they would turn their attention to her and start their usual teasing. All in good fun, of course.

Peace doesn't last long though. She wasn't aware of it, but Brianne's past was slowly catching up to her during those few blissfull months, and soon it would finally catch her. That day was scheduled for one of their meetings with Laroy, they have all been gathered at the Clubhouse for a breakfast that Gemma had prepared. They had to collect guns and then transport them straight to Laroy today. Brianne loved it when it was just them, no croweaters, no other charters (although she had nothing against any other charter at this point, they all had to accept her as a Prospect and they did, Clay made sure of that), but it was something special when it was just them. Until it all came crashing down. Gemma had just cleared the table, with the help of the Prospects, when some unfamiliar men burst through the room.

They all had them at gun point and there was no time for any of them to pull out their guns. So they were at the mercy of these people. Brianne's breath stopped midway when she noticed their uniforms. The very familiar logo that she grew up with. Then their leader entered. She felt as if the floor opened, sucking her into the dark hole. They found her. It was all over. The Shadow Hand had arrived. As Declan O'Rourke stood in front of her, smirking, she knew there was no getting out of this alive.

„What a lovely little situation we've got ourselves in here," Declan was looking around the Clubhouse until his eyes landed on Brianne. „Isn't that right Bri?" The Sons looked at each other in confusion. Just who was this guy and how did he know Brianne? „You've got yourself quite a life here in Charming. Shame that it must come to an end."

Brianne clenched her fists, this was not the time to go all soft. She had to protect her club. „I'm afraid yer wrong," She spoke sternly. Chibs watched her focused glare, she seemed different. Like a switch was turned on and she was a different person than she was a few minutes ago. „Ye've got no business here, leave or I'll make ye leave."

Declan laughed suddenly, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. „You were our best operative, Brianne. You know too much, and you've become a liability. You can't just walk away." The truth hurts. She did know too much, but she hadn't been a threat in over four years, why would she risk everything she acquired here, just to spite the organization?

She wasn't that stupid, even they had to know it. „I left that life behind," She spoke. „I won't go back."

Declan chuckled darkly. „Oh, sweetheart, there's no escape from the Shadow Hand. You know that better than anyone." When she didn't budge, he looked around, nodding at his men. Suddenly all the guns were pressed on the back of Sons' heads, even Gemma wasn't spared from that fate. Brianne's demeanor wavered slightly at the sight of her family being put in that position. She whipped out her gun and aimed it at Declan's head. He, in turn, aimed his at Chibs. „Tell you what, you come with us peacefully and I don't blow a hole into his head. Would be a shame if your handsome Scotty died right here, wouldn't it?" Declan watched as Brianne was struggling with her options. He spoke again. „Or you could kill me, but then my men would kill every one of them," He was motioning around at all the faces she grew to love. „You can't save them all in time-„

„Alright!" Brianne shouted, easing the grip on her gun and slowly putting it down. „I'll go with you. Just don't hurt anyone." Declan jerked his head in her direction silently, putting down his gun. The two men, who had their guns aimed at Gemma and Tig, instantly grabbed her by her arms and began pushing her out the door. She didn't have any courage to look at her friends, especially not Chibs. She had messed up by letting herself settle down in the small town of Charming and almost had people she cared about killed. Now she had to pay for her mistakes. But at least they will all survive, she told herself. Her heart sank as the men led her through the Clubhouse door and towards the two vans waiting for her. She couldn't believe she had let her guard down after almost five years of freedom, and put the people she cared about in danger – and the man she loved with all her heart. She turned her head towards the Clubhouse one more time and locked eyes with Chibs. As soon as her eyes met hers, he tried to reach her, but Tig and Juice held him back.

„Let her go, ye bastards!" He shouted. Her heart broke at the anger and desperation in his voice. At that point, the Shadow Hand's men were already loading into the vans one by one and the Sons were standing outside of their Clubhouse, still as confused as ever.

„Don't try to follow us," Declan warned. „Or I really will blow a hole in Telford's head." He turned to Brianne, forcefully pushing her into the van. „Daddy dearest can't wait to see you, Brianne. Let's go."

The Sons gathered back in the Clubhouse, their assignment of the day, long forgotten. Chibs paced back and forth, having been already stopped from following after them. Jax had sent Half-Sack to discretely follow the vans and let them know of their whereabouts every few hours if they stray too far. But Chibs wanted to charge right away, not even caring for his safety. Clay looked deep in though, remembering when she told them that the less they knew about her past the better. Maybe if she had told them, they could have foreseen all of this and prevented it. But on the other hand, he did understand why she hid this from them.

Suddenly Gemma approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. „We couldn't have predicted this, Clay," she said softly, knowing the turmoil he was going through. „We didn't know what we were up against." Gemma always knew what to say when someone was going through shit, and she had always been Clay's person to lean on when he needed it the most. So he appreciated having her by his side at this moment as well.

„I just wish she had trusted us enough to share more about what she was running from," He sighed. „Maybe we could have protected her from this."

Gemma understood what he meant by that, she wished Brianne had told them about her life before the Club, but the girl must have had a good reason not to. „Sometimes people keep their past hidden to protect themselves and those they care about," she said. „She was trying to start fresh with us, away from whatever she left behind."

Chibs hadn't meant to listen to their conversation, but he had caught Gemma's words. He had calmed down and cleared his head after realizing that charging in now would do neither of them any good. He was a stable person whenever they faced trouble and he shouldn't change that now either. Not when Brianne needed him the most. He faced Clay and Gemma, nodding. „Aye, she wanted a new life, a clean slate," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. „We can't blame her for that."

Clay nodded, sighing once again and standing up. „Church, now." He began walking towards the Chapel when he turned to Tig. „And get Happy and the Tacoma boys here, now." Tig just nodded, getting to making the phone call right away. The rest of the Sons took their seats in the Chapel and after Tig was done he entered as well, closing the door shut. The tension in the Chapel was palpable and could be cut with a knife, but they were used to situations similar to these and knew how to deal with the pressure. „Juice, what do we know?"

Juice had been tasked with finding out anything he could find about the supposed 'Shadow Hand', questioning any of his contacts he could ask and even going as far as doing a simple internet search. He looked up from his laptop at his brothers. He cleared his throat. „So far, I've managed to dig up some information on the Shadow Hand," He began. „They're a highly secretive and dangerous organization with ties to international crime networks. They've been involved in everything from drug trafficking to arms dealing, and they're known for their ruthless tactics."

„So what do they want from Bri?" Jax leaned in, focusing on Juice.

„I couldn't find anything on Bri. If she was a part of the organization, they must have wiped everything they had on her," Juice shook his head. „I'm guessing they see her as a liability?" He froze for a moment. „Hold up," With a few more taps on the keyboard, his eyes widened. „Holy shit."

„What? What you got?" Tig questioned.

Juice turned his laptop screen to his brothers. „This is Michael O'Connor."

The Sons leaned in to look at the image displayed on Juice's laptop screen. It was a photograph of a man in his late forties, with a hardened and dangerous look in his eyes. "Who's Michael O'Connor?" Jax asked, furrowing his brow.

„Brianne's father." Chibs suddenly chimed in. He stared at the man who looked as ruthless as any of the IRA Kings he used to know. Juice's nod only confirmed his suspicion. Chibs had asked Brianne about her family but the only person she ever talked about was her mother. Beautiful woman, according to Bri. She never mentioned anything about her father, not even his name. Chibs could only conclude that he must not be winning any 'Father of the Year' awards. „We should focus on the leader. Declan, wasn't it?"

Juice shook his head. „He's not the leader," He returned to his laptop screen one more time and typed something before showing it to his brothers once again. „Victor Blackthorn." Chibs' eyes narrowed at the image of the said man on Juice's laptop screen. There was a strange glint in the man's eyes, he could see it, even on an image. That was a man not to be messed with, Chibs could tell that much. Just how did Brianne escape from these people in the first place?

„So what's the plan?" Tig asked. „We can't just sit here and do nothing." It had taken a lot of strength for the Sergeant at Arms not to shoot every single man that broke into their home and took their Prospect from them. He was eager to break some bones once they track down the fuckers, that's for sure.

Clay cleared his throat. „We need to gather more intel before we do anything. We meet Laroy as planned, and see if he heard of this Shadow Hand. Juice, keep digging, see if you can find any weakness in the Shadow Hand's operations," Juice nodded, muttering how hard it would be since they seem to have any internet info on lockdown. „Bobby, reach out to your contacts and see if anyone knows anything about this Blackthorn guy," Bobby got up right away, exiting the Chapel and already calling everyone he assumed could help. „And Chibs," The Scotsman's head snapped in his President's direction. „You need to keep a level head. We can't afford to lose you too."

Chibs nodded, agreeing with his Prez. Clay was surely right, Brianne needed him and he had to be stable for her sake. „I hear ye, Clay," He responded. He did his best to keep his voice steady despite the hurricane of emotions raging inside his heart.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Brianne was pulled out of the van by Declan, who wore a satisfied smirk on his face. The drive wasn't long and she was sure they took her just outside of Lodi somewhere, which meant there was still hope for the Sons to catch up before they took her to Chicago. She was taken to a hotel they stopped by and with no doubt, Brianne was sure her father awaited her there. When the two of them entered, she wasn't surprised to notice how desolate the hotel looked and she concluded that the Shadow Hand had bought the entire hotel just for this reunion today. It wouldn't be the first time they took drastic measures such as that.

Declan led her down a corridor and in front of a double-sided door. She knew her father awaited on the other side, but when the door opened she wasn't expecting to see Victor Blackthorn as well – the cunning leader. Both men stared at her with ruthless eyes. Michael briefly dismissed Declan, who closed the door shut. Once she was alone with her father and Victor, her heart began pounding in her chest. She wasn't afraid, not until now at least. If Victor was here, it would be serious.

@crazyworldofsiani

#sons of anarchy #chibs telford #tommy flanagan #bobby munson #clay morrow #jax teller #theo rossi #tig trager #chibs telford fic #chibs x oc

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hikariale · 9 months

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lin kuei on wheels

Hi! Motorcycles and motorcycle culture are one of my biggest passions, so I was really excited to see some people floating the idea of characters being bikers! I'd like to throw my own ring in the hat, so below are some of my headcanons and motorcycle assignments. I may do another post like this for the rest of the (formerly) Lin Kuei, Frost, Cyrax, and Sektor because... I really love motorcycles and I jump at the chance to talk about them. Everything below is just my personal indulgence, hehe!

cw: mentions of motorcycle crashes, ask to tag

characters: bi-han, kuai liang, tomáš vrbada

The implementation of motorcycles was Sektor's suggestion for quick transport through Earthrealm without depending on Liu Kang's powers to airdrop them to the approximate location of their objectives.

Sektor installed intercoms into their helmets, but the brothers rarely use or need them to communicate.

Though Kuai Liang has the fastest bike, Bi-han is the one who usually drives up front if they are travelling together. Kuai Liang doesn't tend to go full throttle unless they are all in a hurry, and Tomáš typically brings up the rear as the one with the slowest bike and the one who likes to mess around the most.

Bi-han and Kuai Liang have to take off their gloves to use their powers most effectively. When caught in a bad situation while in the saddle, Tomáš will usually jump into action to cover them.

Each brother knows the basics of maintenance, but Tomáš has worked on his motorcycle personally much more than the others.

Their gear and motorcycles are distinct, so they keep interactions with others to a minimum to avoid identity leaks. This includes law enforcement trying to pull them over for reckless driving.

The IDs they carry with them are fake for this reason as well, so technically none of them have a real permit. Their visors have all been modified to be tinted to further hide their identities while passing through.

From most to least crashes between the brothers: Kuai Liang (1000+cc supersport bikes are hardly beginner friendly), Tomáš (likes to do stunts), and Bi-han (aggressive driver to share the road with, but he's very sensible when not experiencing road rage)

Sektor repairs their bikes most often as THE Lin Kuei technomechanophile, but sometimes Tomáš will do repairs if he has nothing else (that he wants) to do. Kuai Liang prefers Tomáš' repairs because it always feels like Sektor adds modifications that he never asked for.

Suzuki 2022 Katana Arai Quantum X helmet Reax Castor Perforated Leather gloves The Jacket Maker Darren Black Leather jacket Knox Urbane Pro trousers Aether Moto Boot

This man's brake-check game is truly DEMENTED. He will brake-check a van! He does not give a fuck! His brothers yell at him about it because you have a zero percent chance of winning a quarrel with a car if you are on anything less than a car.

He is the most prone to road rage, but outside of his tendency to aggressively and pointedly pass people or brake-check them, he's mostly responsible with it. He especially dislikes other vehicles getting in his wide personal bubble when riding. In spite of all of that, he doesn't use his horn very often.

Tries to signal for any sharp turns or strange road conditions fairy early while in the front so that his brothers don't get taken by surprise. He feels most comfortable leading because it makes him most likely to hit an obstacle before his brothers.

Bi-han often checks on his brothers through his mirrors, but if he loses sight of them, he will slow down and shoulder check every couple of seconds until they either leave his blind spot or he's verified that they're keeping up alright.

Bi-han's crash contingency plan is to take his gloves off and ice-slide to avoid road burn, but he has only had low-speed crashes while learning how to ride, so the feasibility of this plan is extremely questionable. He wears more gear than he would normally bother with out of a sense of responsibility. Similarly to Tomáš, he prefers motorcycle gear that feels and looks as close to civilian clothes as possible.

Surprisingly serious about learning and improving because he wants to lead by example, especially if they ever do a full-organisation implementation of motorcycles, Bi-han can sometimes be caught practising things like braking and figure eight turn repetitions.

He's used to sliding on his own ice, so he never understood the problem with "bad road conditions" until he was drove over black ice. Kuai Liang threw him a lifeline (his kusarigama), but the bike ate the entire highside.

Bi-han does not return any waves***. Ever.

Suzuki GSX1300 R Hayabusa Scorpion EXO-R420 Engage helmet ON BOARD PRX-1 gloves KLIM Outlander GTX boots T.ur Zero jacket and pants 2 piece suit

Kuai Liang is is the most rigorous with his gear because his motorcycle is the fastest (312 kmh) and he doesn't think he can teleport away unharmed at high speeds.

It's not that he's specifically afraid of the it, but Kuai Liang has never actually hit top speed on his motorcycle because he feels it to be excessive and hard to handle. Though he is trying to unlearn it, he has a dangerous habit of overcorrection.

This guy miraculously stops the death wobble by holding on to the handlebars and trying to stabilise them, which... Is the exact opposite thing that anybody should try to do, but he pulls it off every time. And he needs to get maintenance done because it happens way too often to be dismissed.

Sharp turns don't bother him very much. Sometimes his knee will touch the road briefly. Rather than having difficulty with sharp turns, he struggles to brake smoothly. Most often, his own speed takes him by surprise and he grabs a fistful of front brake in response. Bi-han will use his power to stop him before he can become a flying ninja, but he also tells Kuai Liang off for not having good braking technique.

Though he lacks a lot of technical knowledge and runs into the most issues, Kuai Liang's intuition is actually the best. The biggest issue he has is that he is more reactive than proactive, but he does know his range of movement and can utilise it without issues if he doesn't face unexpected circumstances. In that same vein, he's able to ride his brothers' motorcycles without any issues adjusting to the difference.

Unlike Bi-han, Kuai Liang makes an effort to braid his hair before a ride because he doesn't like the feeling of it whipping around. He also has the neatest hair after he takes his helmet off. He often teases Bi-han for keeping his hair down, but he does try to advise him to tie it up to avoid the struggle of fixing it nine hundred and ninety-nine tangles later.

Kuai Liang has a 50/50 chance of returning a wave***. He does try for the sake of etiquette, but he often misses his chance by the time he thinks to do it.

The Wal (BMW R 18 customised by Shinya Kimura) LS2 Street Fighter helmet Armure Kerr vented gloves Dainese Street Rocker D-WP boots Icon Mesh AF motorcycle jacket Saint Unbreakable Engineered Slim Fit Armoured jean

Tomáš is the most likely to go squid* of all the brothers because he is fully confident and comfortable on his motorcycle in a way that they aren't. He also has a lot of faith in his ability to react fast enough to use his powers before he can get hurt, but sometimes his brothers will nag him about it anyways.

Unlike his brothers' sport bikes, Tomáš chose to ride a cruiser. The speed is much slower, but the ergonomics and flexibility for customisation made him choose it. It also boasts the largest gas tank and most powerful engine (1802cc), so he is basically the backup plan if someone runs out of gas or their bike gets stuck.

While Bi-han was vaguely interested in the concept of advancement and Kuai Liang was generally ambivalent to the idea, Tomáš was excited about the new motorcycles. As the one most interested in pop culture, he was most knowledgeable on them.

After getting to actually ride one, he became even more charmed by them, so he's by far the most involved in motorcycle culture. There's an endearing dorkiness about how cool he thinks it all is, but he is genuinely knowledgeable in applicable ways that his brothers aren't. He'd like to own more motorcycles, but there is no precedent for it or storage, so he focuses on customising the one that he has.

The first time Tomáš popped a wheelie, Bi-han hard-braked thinking that he was about to crash, and then proceeded to tell him off for fooling around too much. After a while, Bi-han got used to it and begrudgingly considered it a skill asset.

Aside from the fact that most sport bikes are miserable rides for any passengers, Tomáš is the best one to turn to if you need a lift. He isn't as prone to overcorrection as Kuai Liang and adjusts the fastest to having and accommodating a passenger**.

Tomáš makes an active attempt to return waves*** because he knows that his brothers probably won't. As someone who regularly takes his hands off of the handlebars, and the one most often in the back, it isn't as much of a struggle for him.

*the term "squid" refers to riders who forego motorcycle gear. The opposite term would be ATGATT (All The Gear All The Time), where Kuai Liang is more aligned.

**having a passenger on a motorcycle drastically changes the ride because the driver and passenger need to work together in shifting their weight and balance. if a passenger cannot anticipate and go along with the driver, the execution of turns may be affected, so it is suggested that riders try to acclimate their passengers before doing any serious driving.

***motorcyclists wave at each other on the road. this is basically etiquette and a predominant, universal part of motorcycle culture. not returning a wave is considered rude by most motorcyclists. it could be described like someone coming to a party and then ignoring everybody that tries to talk to them.

#mk1 #mortal kombat #bi han #tomas vrbada #kuai liang #the links are just sources for pictures that weren't already provided by the manufacturers ^^#though i intended to give bi-han a kawasaki i ended up giving him a suzuki. and i think that works too in an unintentional way #i just KNOWWW johnny gassed tomáš UP when he saw the motorcycle and honestly deserved bc its sick ITS SICK #i really love looking at shinya kimura's work... i'd suggest looking into him if anybody reads these tags hehe ^^#a lot of this is just me rambling and none of this is meant to be acommercial endorsement of any products.#i had a lot more to say but i didn't want to get too technical and in-depth about gear and bike choices for them. i just love motorcycles <#but anybody who is curious can just ask and i'd be happy to answer ^^

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getranched · 10 months

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coulddddd we have a rundown of the habitants of the ranch?

Well I'm not sure about every single being who makes this (cosmic nightmare) house a home

But I'm sure we can give you a good rundown!(also PSA this account does deal with unreality so if that kind of thing messes with you be careful)

First up is the Ranch itself! A mimic in its final stage of life! They normally become dungeons or haunted houses but this lovely guy had the (mis)fortune to become a familiar with Moon in around the 1700's I'm pretty sure. And as a fully adult mimic it spawns thousands of baby mimics which end up replacing our furniture and the like.

EREN INTERJECTION i’m eren, OR RIJU, a shapeshifter. i just live here idk. i have a friend who’s a burmese python but he doenst live here. uhmm yeah idk i just eat the food in the fridge and sometimes i’ll throw bits of my fresh kills in there too. idk uhmm yeah im friends w everyone here except for like. FD maybe?? but he doesnt live here i dont think….

tbh i dont really keep up with who comes in and who doesnt HAHA im usually in my room playing with bones or reading when im here at the ranch

Twi interjection! I'm Twilight (or just Marth) i'm just kind of here, and if i'm not, i'm tending to my acnh island Tabantha. (Also this account is being shared between 15 or less people, some are more active than others and their individual accounts are being followed by this one)

Is it really an interjection if everybody’s doing it when nobody else is typing? Who knows! I’m Vivian, local semi-moth humanoid and god/dess of the Lost and the Traveling on occasion. Unlike most local chumps deities, I am a multiversal being, which means I am THE deus ex machina in any given situation, and like to Borrow from other universes. cough cough: ner beskar’gam. Also, I have a sapient AI living in “my” spaceship (which is legally his, don’t tell xem), just for funsies

This is Sky now. I'm not really supposed to be in this galaxy, I crash landed in the front yard on one of my spaceships. I tried apologizing to the landlord but we ended up throwing hands, not my fault. Eventually I stayed at the Ranch tho. Hobbies: leading prison breaks, motorcycle rides, eating lightbulbs for the sake of trolling, antagonizing gods, blasting my friends into space. Ended up adopting a demon cat guy. (Vivian note: this is not the catboy incubus. This is a different demon cat guy) (Sky note: Yeah, my boy is the cat butler, the other catboy is a pain in my ass) (Vivian again: and a pleasure in mine)

This is Luna! I am the goddess of horses and all things related. I spend most of my time as a horse (sometimes a centaur) AND I AM NOT A CHUMP VIVI! anyway I used to run an empire ages ago before it was destroyed, and I got sealed away. I have Twi to thank for breaking my seal! Nowadays I'm restarting my cult (its horse girls mostly rn) and fixing horse races. If you ever see a horse say hello it might be me.

Heyo! I'm saria, local milf. I have deer antlers because some grass god decided it'd be cool to mix the local humans with deer. (to be fair, he was right.) I'm mostly human, though. I stream bloodborne because that game reminds me of my found family and my village. I'm still piecing together what happened to my people, but for now I bake, garden, and play my silly little video game. catch me having tea with a succubus and a doll on tuesdays and shopping with a horse on thursdays.

Hi! I'm Wild! I was Moons first kid after my dog and I accidently ended up in this world, escaped jail, and hid in her man eating garden. Most of the time, I sail the seas of my home world and have the best adventures with the greatest pirate crew u could ever imagine. But, I do come visit home from time to time, too, thanks to my crystal that lets me travel through time and space. Somebody's gotta bedazzle FD's tools and give Moon a headache, ya kno?

Yormp here! I’m not totally sure who I am, I’m working on it. Moon says I’m a creature of my own choice, but I’m not too sure about that. Before I was an omen of war, and my friends called themselves pestilence, conquest, and death. Then I died, some time passed, I don’t remember it all, got cursed to be an otter for a bit, and met Moon. Now? I’m just going to college. Learning a little. If I really do get to choose, I think I’ll choose not to be War reborn this time.

Oh… and uhh. Goose.

Hmmm? OH it's my turn! Hey hey hey! I am (the) Sun Sun Sun and when you're with me everything is fun fun fun!. I'm Moon's counter part. We share a body, we share a mind, we are the same person, but not quite! Much like Moon I am also a clown, but instead of resembling a porcelain doll I have the body of a goat (sorta)! You can think of me as Moon's opposite! We may not agree on much, but we do hold our family very dear to us! I'm also referred to as a father and much like Moon, I don't mind what I'm called! Speaking of Moon, she wants her turn to speak now!

Hello, dearest traveler,

It seems you have found our home. I'm (the) Moon. I am the one that eats many gods in this world. But do not worry, it is strictly business. As of this moment, I have taken the form of a porcelain clown. This body was provided to me by a dear friend. I am also referred to as the father of many Ranch residents. Though I am called a father, and might be referred to as Mr. Vilon, I do not care much for what I am referred to as. Most use she/her.

[Psst. Moon. Don't forget to tell them some house rules!]

Ah yes... While you are here traveler, be sure keep some things in mind:

- Mind your teeth and your belongings, else they might be stolen

- Remember to keep your feet off the grass. The plants get hungry after a certain time.

- Not everything is what it seems. I'm sure you will become familiar with our mimics both big and small.

- Do not assume a door, hallway, or stairwell will take you to the same place twice.

- The void will always listen to your troubles.

- Do not pet the cats. Some are... not the kind that you want the attention of. Or maybe they are. That's up to you.

- And most importantly, remember, that sometimes, it is better to stay lost than to be found.

Enjoy your visit,

The Vilons

#Vilons #Enjoy your stay

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juuheizou · 1 year

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Hello there!! Hope you're doing good! I love your writing for juuzou and mutsuki so i wanted to ask two ir more questions,,, 1.what would make juuzou genuinely upset/angry in an relationship and how does he act when he's angry/upset? and 2.what is something that would bring juuzou to tears and how does he's particularly sad? would he cry in front of anyone? how does he accept help and comforting? Ty in advance!!💕

Hello! You have no idea (well, you might once you read the full paragraphs below haha) how excited I was to answer your very important, deliciously angsty questions! Honestly I've been wanting to write some Suzuya hurt/comfort for aaaages, because I definitely see both of them having their moments though I know I tend to actually post my writings of one side more than the other. I hope I provided the insight into the inner workings of Suzuya Juuzou that you're looking for, anon!

1.what would make juuzou genuinely upset/angry in an relationship and how does he act when he's angry/upset?

Although we see him become a much more forgiving person in :RE itself and I say this as someone who adores him as a character, a lot of things make him angry. He is the type to have big anger over small missteps, especially those that make him feel like the offender is judging him. Little things that could come with good intentions from a partner, like messing with his doom piles, commenting on his snack choices, or trying to tuck in his shirt that he left untucked on purpose will flip his anger switch just as much as something truly heinous. As far as how he acts, he doesn't get mad. His eye might twitch or he might get a little more fidgety than usual when something upsets him, but for the most part, he just gets even. Now, getting even isn't always crashing someone's shiny new motorcycle or getting violent. It can be as quick and easy as making a hurtful remark back at the person who can't believe he's unwrapping a piece of candy before dinner or hiding something precious to the partner who messed up a pile that he had organized his way and seeing how they like it. He might have come a long way and forgiven Big Madam of all people, and he might actually let some slights against him go once he's had a chance to cool down, but he still holds grudges sometimes and can easily relapse into the vengeful soul he was before. Mutsuki's accepting nature protects him from this side of Suzuya a lot of the time because he doesn't try to fix or change people no matter how different they are from him. He even respects people who are disrespectful to him, but early in their relationship he probably did earn Suzuya's vengeance a couple of small, petty times just wanting to help with things he didn't completely understand. The first time, he apologizes and just takes whatever petty revenge Suzuya throws at him. The second time, the revenge is less petty and he's grown a little more assertive so he doesn't accept it and he's like "that was mean. Why did you do that?" Actually thinking about it instead of just acting makes Suzuya realize he cares about Mutsuki more than cares about making him pay for the initial offense, so they end up talking it out and from then on, Suzuya is better at asking himself if his first impulse is worth potentially hurting Mutsuki before he does whatever act of revenge he had in mind. The answer is just about always no. Gods help whoever makes him angry by hurting Mutsuki in any way, though.

2.what is something that would bring juuzou to tears and how does he's particularly sad? would he cry in front of anyone? how does he accept help and comforting?

Suzuya doesn't cry often, and he's more likely to cry from overwhelm than from sadness. He's more listless and may shut down in situations where others who express themselves differently might cry. Going quiet, staring off into space, not getting out of bed, vacantly trying to roll snacks towards his mouth so he moves as little as possible while comfort-eating, that's how you know he's sad. He would cry in front of anyone and everyone, because if he's at that point, he's beyond controlling his reaction to whatever drove him to tears. As we saw in the Owl Suppression Operation, if something strikes the right chord to make him cry, it's messy and out of control. Screaming in anguish, hammering fists on his surroundings, destroying things or hurting himself, curling up into a ball, it's a tempestuous fit to release the overload of whatever brought him to that point in any way he can. Considering his junior partner doubles as a personal care aide, he's actually pretty good at accepting practical help. Comfort, on the other hand, he often doesn't think to seek in other people. It's not that he doesn't want or need that sometimes, but very rarely does he recognize what he's feeling enough for the idea to occur to him. He's more likely to find distractions on his own until either the sadness passes or he can't handle it alone anymore. He's a hard person to read even for people who devote themselves to offering him their support, and often the first sign that he's in need of comforting is when Shinohara, Hanbee, Mutsuki, or someone close enough to have the opportunity finds him heavily self-soothing to comfort himself. Unless there is self-injury or damaging stuff involved, there's often no way to know if what he's doing is working and he just needs space to let it work or not except letting him know you're there and giving him the chance to do what he will with that information. Most of the time, Suzuya will eventually stagger to wherever Mutsuki is and wait quietly to be invited in for healing hugs, usually taking his sadness ball of blankets/plushies/etc with him, plus or minus venting to him about what's wrong.

#answers #anon #this ask was such a breath of fresh air tbh #i've been in this creative slump and the stagnation of every wip i could even try to work on was getting me down #tgre/suzumutsu prompts are always welcomed and cherished and might even offer a reprieve from the dreaded writer's block u never know #suzumutsu #autistic king #suzuya juuzou #tgre #also i've thought about making more of those cute bite-sized headcanon posts for tgre/suzuya/suzumutsu/etc on here lately #so this ask comes at a doubly perfect time

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girlsngossip · 1 year

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TIᖴᖴᗩᑎY ᗰᑌTTOᑎ

tiffany mutton is based on taffyta from wreck it ralph. she is a 25 year old human, gossip columnist/influencer, and uses she/her pronouns. she has no powers.

penned by HARPER

reflection

face claim: madison iseman sexuality: lesbian height: 5’2 eye color: blonde hair color: blue piercings: ears, belly button. tattoos: strawberries on the left side of her ribs, a crown on her right hip bone

attitude

positive traits: adrenaline-junkie, charismatic, protective of her close circle, punctual, social ( only semi-selectively, she can hold a conversation with anyone but usually opts not to ), witty negative traits: selfish, primarily sees people as allies instead of friends, two-faced, gossiper, manipulative likes: girls, talking shit, strawberry flavored lip gloss, spending ridiculous amounts of money on material things, miss dior perfume, matching pajama sets, horror movies, her motorcycle dislikes: car crashes, beer, men, the color green, waking up late, not having good internet, people being better than her, romantic comedies, sandals phobias: n/a hobbies: writing on her gossip blog, attempting to learn to crochet, window-shopping / shopping in general, street racing, stalking social media, sipping martinis aesthetic: the scent of expensive perfume that lingers in the air, the sound of someone cracking their knuckles, high heels on asphalt, body glitter, strawberry red, the whistle of the wind as it blows through your hair, bodycon dresses, lollipops as a flirting mechanism.

relations

mother: aubery mutton father: castiel mutton sibling(s): n/a pet(s): n/a

headcanons

♡ she gives off the vibe of strawberry cotton candy… but after you drop it into a martini glass filled with two shots of the most expensive vodka on the shelf & edible pink glitter. ♡ the sound of freshly done acrylic nails typing on the keys of a laptop at a ferocious speed. ♡ tiffany would be able to smell a scandal from a mile away, and while she’d never retire her race car, there’s nothing hotter than a bottle blonde bent over a pink motorcycle racing to catch a story before it’s even finished being written. ♡ top. she’s absolutely a top. can’t risk spending a moment of her life on the bottom. ♡ tiffany’s blog is so shamelessly relentless towards everyone else and she doesn’t bat an eye… but every once and a while, she can be seen drinking wine from the bottle and reading anonymous messages sent in about herself and for a moment, just a moment, wondering if there is anyone on this planet who actually likes her…or even truly knows her. ♡ chocolate covered strawberries & any strawberry themed desert are her absolute weakness. she even refuses to wear any flavor of chapstick or lipgloss if it doesn’t have a strawberry taste. ♡ due to the nature of tiffany's... side-hustle, she very rarely admits that people are 'friends' of hers. she is ridiculously obsessed with the idea of being untouchable, and having friends threatens that. ♡ tiff won't ghost anyone, but she will cut them off with little to no explanation solely because she can. she isn't one to dislike confrontation, she just doesn't feel it's necessary in those cases. ♡ she may be a blonde but she is far from the stereotypes; tiffany is meticulous, her career and her status are everything to her. one wrong move and everything crumbles- a risk she is not worth taking. ♡ on that note; tiffany is willing to do ANYTHING for her career. anything. there are no limits to what she will do and how far she will go. ♡ her bike / race car are her babies. the only things as important to her as her career and her status are her vehicles. she doesn't mess around with them.

#& intro

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jodilin65 · 28 days

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Even more exhausted today as the sleep debt mounts, and the storms keep waking me up. Oh, to be able to sleep at night when the storms and motorcycles are much less likely to disturb me.

I crashed around 3:00, but just two hours later, we had a power failure for the second day in a row. After waking up from a dream where the good Kim was telling me she was worried about getting fired from her job—maybe she was some kind of whistleblower—I managed to fall back asleep.

Then the thunder began, and I was up for hours before finally dozing off again. By that time, my lungs were tight, and my back hurt like hell. When my lungs get really tight, I sometimes feel pain between my shoulder blades, as if I were karate chopped there. Good thing I just got a new inhaler because I needed it. I took half a melatonin and a couple of ibuprofen for the pain.

As is usually the case when my sleep gets interrupted, I finally dragged myself out of bed shortly before 2:00 a.m., utterly exhausted. I tried to nap a few times but couldn’t, despite being so tired.

The last time I got up, it was after dreaming that it was 2029. In 2026, I had a scary medical event, and I was thinking about how it had already been three years and how time was flying. I don’t think anything could scare me as much as what happened in 2014.

When the thunder wakes me up again tonight, I’m sure I’ll be even more exhausted. I swear, every time I seem to get on a roll with energy, storms or nightmares knock me off track. I’m so sick of this and not being able to take up any other form of exercise consistently, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stick to it often enough to really benefit. I can’t go into strength training like this, I can’t get back on the vibration platform, and I can’t walk or jog consistently. The glider is better than nothing, but I don’t think I’ll have the energy for that today. I only got a few miles in yesterday too. Finished the New York and UK rides and just started Australia.

I was thinking back to the times in my 20s and 30s when my sleep would be broken up by asthma attacks before I quit smoking. For the most part, once I settled the attack, I was able to go back to sleep and usually felt okay once I got up. Why has it gotten so hard for me to handle broken sleep? I swear the NHA or jail would literally kill me these days. Literally. I just don’t get why it’s gotten so hard for me to handle sleep disturbances and sleeping in chunks. I know I’m older, but still. Perhaps sleep apnea and my thyroid really do affect me more than I gave them credit for, and they’re just throwing fuel on the fire. I wish I could know if the Inspire would help.

I still wonder about the possibility of something cursing my sleep. If that’s the case, it’s going to bypass anything I do to try to help myself.

I’m even more convinced there’s no God. With each passing year, I’m more and more convinced of this, and I figure I’ll eventually become 100% convinced. I’m at about 90% now. That’s because I prayed to whatever may be out there to please not let my sleep be disrupted since I was so tired and needed to catch up.

Okay, help me out here. If there really were a God, why would He say no to that? Why would He be like, “Nah, fuck your sleep. I don’t care if you get woken up; I’m going to let it happen.”

So yeah, I’m a little more convinced nothing’s up there and that the stories I’ve heard about people who claim to have been in the afterlife while they were temporarily clinically dead are just hallucinations that seemed so real they believed what they saw was real. The brain is a very weird and complex thing that we don’t fully understand.

Anyway, Tom is slowly fixing the wall tiles I messed up and is doing a much better job of it than I ever could. I’m great at home decorating, but not at home improvements.

We took out the center leaf of the table, and it really opens up the kitchen. It’s so nice to be able to walk around the table to get to the cabinets and shelves.

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poisonf0rest · 4 months

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Love Me Through Every Lifetime

♱⋅── rafayel x fem!reader

♱⋅── synopsis: For a Lemurian, there is no greater curse than love. And Rafayel is beginning to understand its dangers, especially when the full moon turns him half-delirious and desperate to claim you as his— in every way that matters.

♱⋅── word count: 6.9k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, pwp, switch!raf but it quickly changes, merman/lemuniran heat, breeding kink, oviposition, that means eggs, monsterfucking to keep it simple

♱⋅── art: @/–山渡川–

You think Rafayel might be dying.

For two days, you have not heard a word from your overdemanding employer slash lover. Waking up around noon without a barrage of texts calling you a “lazy hibernating bear” or “neglectful partner” was unusual enough, but an irregularity you chalked up to Rafayel’s upcoming gallery exhibition.

But by nightfall, you were confused, and by the next morning, cold dread had begun to creep in. He has still not sent a single text, not a call, nothing. Absolute silence.

Despite agreeing to attend sparring practice tonight with Xavier, you rush out from HQ as soon as your squadron is dismissed from a mission briefing– you’ll make it up to him later. For now, you keep your Hunter’s suit equipped and reload both your pistols, tucking them into their holsters as you rev the engine of your motorcycle.

Energy fluctuations always escalate before a full moon, and between the increase in Wanderers and the growing bounty on Rafayel's head, you feel your panic rise, the hollow ring of the moon looming overhead as you speed to Rafayel’s studio, praying that nothing has happened.

Rafayel is a mess.

It’s been centuries since he has last felt this insatiable heat, but to fall prey to his instincts was perhaps inevitable. After all, he’s finally found you again.

Not only that, but he got too close once more, pulling you in from a stranger to an unwilling bodyguard to a friend and lover. Rafayel supposes he can only blame himself. His Lemurian biology has always keened in your presence, and he sealed his own fate when he finally coaxed you into bed with him. But he doesn't regret it— not for a moment.

However, it has been weeks since the first time the two of you had sex, and yet he still can do nothing but taste you against his tongue, nothing but imagine your face every time you unraveled against him, nothing but want you atop him, beneath him, beside him, so fucking bad he can’t think of anything else.

He had reunited with his mate.

Of course his instincts now want to make you his, forever.

Rafayel curses, his clothes chafing against his sensitive skin, making him burn under each suffocating layer before he hurriedly begins to rip and unbuckle each one. He wants you beside him, your touch on him. He wants so badly it burns.

With a groan, he collapses onto the coach, face buried in his hands as he genuinely worries he might die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling through every nerve. Your name lights up on his phone, the light buzzing adding to the countless missed texts and calls on the screen. Rafayel spares a glance at his phone before chucking it across the studio. He swears he might come from the thought of you alone.

On cue, the studio’s front door opens with a bang.

Disregarding protocall entirely you charge in, swinging both your guns around as you shout. “Rafayel! Yell if you’re trapped or injured, or... or just say something!”

There’s a crash behind you, and you nearly shoot, lowering the pistol only when you see a seagull that must have snuck in, topple over another vase, and flee through the wide open windows.

No Wanderers. Not yet.

The studio is in ruins. Its usual “organized disorganization” would be considered neat in comparison. It looks like a thief ransacked the place, and a hurricane followed suit. Scraps of clothing and swirls of paint splatter across the floor like blood at a crime scene.

Alarm creeps further into your voice, and you call for him again. “Rafayel! Please say something, anything, just let me know you’re okay.” You creep along the edge of the wall, turning into the main room, expecting the worst: to see him bleeding out, or knocked unconscious, or–

Lying on the couch.

He’s lying on the couch.

Sprawled against the cushions, you’re nearly convinced Rafayel is sleeping until you notice the audible rasp in his breathing, skin flushed red in a picture of debauchery. You felt your breath hitch as you scanned him up and down to check for injuries, his billowing shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hips, trail of dark purple hair pathing the way to his hand, which was clawing against his thigh.

You force yourself to look away, a tremor in your voice. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”

“Stop talking.” Rafayel groans in pain and you holster your firearms before rushing to his side, kneeling by the couch as he flinches away from your body, his hand pressed to the lower half of his face. Your knees brush something rough and you look down, realizing the floorboards have been burned.

“Your Evol,” panic returns and you reach out to check Rafayel’s temperature. “It’s acting up. We need to get you to a doctor.” Your fingers hardly brush against his forehead before they’re yanked away. Rafayel springs up, clutching your wrist so tightly you flinch, putting as much distance between the two of you as he could without releasing his hold.

“No.” His chest is heaving, and you hardly hear him over the hand he still has over his mouth, muffling his words. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“You’re the one holding me.”

Bewildered, Rafayel looks at his arm as though unaware of his own moments. But he makes no move to unhand you.

Slowly, you lean closer, letting your free hand rest against Rafayel’s cheek, gasping at how hot he is to the touch. Fuck. Your hand is so deliciously cool against his skin that Rafayel can’t help but lean his entire weight against it, nudging his face into your palm as a strangled whine hisses through his teeth. A tug, and you gasp as you’re pulled down, tripping into Rafayel’s lap as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner wrists.

The position is beyond compromising, especially considering Rafayel’s state of undress. Stumbling forward, your free hand pushes against his bare chest, and you try to free yourself, willing your eyes not to travel any lower to his unbuckled trousers. “Rafayel…”

“Don’t,” he curses into your palm, inhaling deeply before biting. He moans deep in his chest, licking up your fingers, sucking gently at each digit as you feel your body flush. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t move or breathe in my direction either.”

He continues suckling against your fingers, and you would have snapped at his ridiculous demands if it wasn’t for the fact that you doubt you could form any words at all right now, dumbfounded as a dull heat throbs against your lower stomach.

As if noticing, Rafayel’s mouth opens with a deep breath, cursing as he goes back to nipping and kissing your wrist. “Fuck,” he laughs, delirious, “I can smell how turned on you are. You– you’re temptation itself.”

Rafayel places another kiss to your palm before yanking your arm behind him, and you gasp when his head tilts, lips grazing the column of your throat, words slurred and raspy. His breath is scalding, every gentle brush of his lips against your skin sending your nerves on edge.

You feel dizzy.

"Don't talk. Don't even move. Just stay- hah - stay with me."

His hands, both his free one and the one pinning your wrists, roam, caressing you as he presses wet kisses along your throat. It is all you can do to hold still, but when he sucks harshly against the pulse point at the base of your neck, a moan slips through your clenched teeth. You try to squirm out of his grip, but the action only grinds against Rafayel's crotch, and you tense up immediately at the very obvious bulge, hot, sticky fluid already soaking through his trousers.

The artist nearly sobs at the mere friction, expression a mixture of pained and pleading as he begs up at you. "Stay. Please."

He doesn't mean just for the moment. He means always, for eternity, for every lifetime he’s cursed to live. He’s never letting you go again.

And you can do nothing but nod.

You want to help him, really, in every way, endlessly, but taking advantage of him while he’s so helpless and desperate feels wrong. Worry sets in, and you cup his jaw, Rafayel keening into your touch with a whine. “Does this have something to do with Lemuria?”

Rafayel swallows, his hands sliding to your waist and gripping tightly, as though he expects you to disappear at any moment. You can see the indecision on his face, the conflict as he fights the desire clouding his brain. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He tries a second time and succeeds, the words sounding painful and forced even as your thumbs trace his face, caressing every edge and curve.

"I never imagined this would happen. You’re not- I mean, it only ever happens to Lemurian mates.” He’s shaking beneath you, eyes going unfocused as your touch ventures lower, down his collarbones, squeezing at his chest, tracing his abs, and further still. “I knew you were special, my muse, but not special enough to drive me into heat.”

He’s joking, teasing you, but you can’t help the flush of arousal at that statement. Your brows furrow, the gears in your head turning. You try not to sound too excited, the thought of Rafayel in heat is enough to distract you from the urgency of the situation. Again, Rafayel notices, inhaling your scent as something trills deep within his chest.

"If you need my help, then you have it. Any way you want.”

Your fingers slide against the hem of his trousers, and Rafayel's breath hitches. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips- you swear his nails are sharper than normal- and a sharp thrill shoots through you at the feeling. You can practically see his control slipping away, the last threads fraying, and he bites into your shoulder with a moan, fangs nipping through the fabric of your clothes.

Rafayel releases the bite and looks at you, expression wild. His pupils are dilated and his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between yours and the mark he's made.

"If you say things like that," he warns, the hand around your wrist tightening. You can't help the soft gasp that escapes, and Rafayel growls at the noise. He lurches forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth.

"I-I can't." Rafayel pants. The expression he wears is so unlike him that it's shocking, and you feel your core clench. He's completely unraveled, hair disheveled, clothes torn and askew.

And, fuck, you swear some of his pheromones must have infected you too, because you can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous- more than usual- a furious pink blush from the tips of his ears down to the mole on his chest you can’t stop kissing, the color a beautiful contrast to his dark locks, now wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead in thick curls.

His eyes never leave yours, not even as they roll in pleasure, their sunset hues dimmed with an animalistic sort of hunger that makes you shiver with every forceful roll of his hips against yours. It’s punishing, brutal, and a violent contrast to the tears brimming in his eyes from the mere friction alone.

You want to ruin him. You plan on it.

"I won't be able to stop," Rafayel whines, and you can't stop your hips from rutting back against him, the sensation pulling a choked sob from his throat. You swallow the noise with a kiss, the motion so gentle compared to his desperate, frenzied fucking. It's all he can do not to break, his control already slipping through his fingers like sand. “I won’t want to, I’ll fuck you until you can think of nothing else, just me. Only me.”

The idea sends a sharp spike of heat through your core. His desperation and need for you is intoxicating, and you know his warning is sincere. He won’t let you go until you tell him to. You should be scared.

But all you can think of is his voice in your ear, begging and crying.

Your voice is hardly a whisper, "What do you need from me, Rafayel?"

"To breed you. To have my pretty human filled with my brood, to fuck you full."

You moan at the vulgarity of his words, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Rafayel groans as he fucks harder against your thigh, his own breath ragged as he tucks his forehead against your neck.

But the mention of his brood has you nervous, and you gasp the question between moans at Rafayel’s insistent grinding. You don’t know much about Lermurian biology, but between the myths and Rafayel’s teasing, you have a vague idea that makes your head spin.

“How many, ah-” fucking hell, the word seems weird to think of, let alone say, “eggs do Lemurians usually have?”

Rafayel laughs at that, and you nearly sigh at the sound, the familiarity comforting. It isn't mocking, more surprised, and the sound is music to your ears, especially considering the delirious state he was in.

"Don't be silly, love," he teases, but his hips don't stop moving, undoubtedly soaking through his trousers and your pants. "We're not animals, we're civilized creatures."

His tone shifts, the light-hearted nature vanishing in an instant. The words are hissed against the shell of your ear, and a violent shiver runs through you. "I'll fill you to the brim, make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure every creature knows whose bitch you are. You're mine, and I'll mark you however I wish, however many times I must, until the message is clear."

A sharp pinch on the shell of your ear makes you gasp. He bit you. The pain is gone as fast as it came, replaced with a wet tongue and warm lips. A whimper slips out, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound.

"So, my lovely mate, since you’re so eager, how many eggs do you want?"

He’s mocking you. Brat.

Blushing furiously, you shove him down, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position as Rafayel whines at the loss of contact, hips bucking into empty air. You can feel his cock throbbing against your leg, and his hand reaches out for you, fingers barely grazing your skin before you roughly push him back down.

You give him a firm look, and the sight of your stern gaze sends a fresh wave of arousal through his body, his cock jerking as Rafayel keens and throws his head back, unable to meet your eyes. He’s trembling, and the hand you pinned down flies to his face, covering his eyes as you scowl down at him.

“Alright, alright, ‘m sorry.” He laughs, trailing into a moan as you finally sit back against him. “It depends, our biology doesn’t favor us. We mate once, and despite going into these seasons our clutches only take once a decade or so. Per season is variable too, anywhere from five to a dozen.”

Up to a dozen.

A dozen eggs.

In you.

Fuck.

You must have made a sound because Rafayel looks at you with a cheeky grin, and a mischievous glint in his eye. He can smell the want on you, the scent is driving him wild, and you know it. But the realization of your want sends another ripple of desire through him, and Rafayel grunts in pain, writing against the cushions.

"Fuck, need you, need you so, so bad." He growls, grabbing your wrist and yanking you towards him. You lose balance, and your knees slide against the couch, falling over him with a gasp. "Need you. Need you now, please, need my mate, need you to be mine–"

Greedy.

You scoff before his mouth is on yours again, licking up into you. He's insatiable, and as he presses closer you swear his teeth feel sharper, catching against your bottom lip.

“Poor baby,” you coo, palming Rafayel through his boxers as his eyes roll back at your touch. His mouth opens in a gasp, and you can see the hint of fangs, the razor edge of his canines. They glint in dusk’s low light, and you lean closer to get a better look. Rafayel can sense your interest, and his head lolls to the side, giving you a better view as he bares his throat, a dull blue shimmer now coating the sides, pulsing in time to his racing heart.

It's a vulnerable position, one he would never allow anyone else to see him in. But you are not anyone, and he trusts you enough to offer himself up, trusts you to protect him as he succumbs to his desires, even if you’re the one that holds the knife.

And you reward him for his loyalty.

"Mmm, such a good boy, showing your mate what a pretty mess you are." Your voice is sweet and praising, and you feel Rafayel shudder violently, biting his lip deep enough to draw blood to stop the high-pitched moan that rips from his chest. Then he stills. “Did you just…”

“Don’t tease,” he bucks into your palm, impossibly hard still in a way that is utterly nonhuman. “Just once more, make me come once more, and I’ll fuck you properly. Promise.”

You hardly need to be told twice.

Slipping off the side of the couch, you coax Rafayel to turn with you, settling between his legs as you work at his belt. “Then let me taste you.”

His thigh jumps at that, and Rafayel throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud, his hand already lacing into your hair.

For all that talk his cock was still surprisingly human-like. It doesn’t look too different from before, still annoyingly well-endowed and leaking violently against the angry purple-red tip. But this time there’s a faint pale blue discoloration around the base, with a shine you can’t tell is a result of his Lemurian lineage or due to the copious amounts of precum he’s dripping down to his thighs.

Gods, he’s messy.

There’s nothing sweet in the way you fuck him within your mouth, tongue trailing a prominent vein against the underside of his dick until you reach the tip once again. Rafayel goads you forward by pushing and pulling your head with his hand and his almost obnoxiously loud moans and mumbles of praise.

Both of your hands join, one stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and the other massaging against his balls, each one heavy and tense, waiting to spill into something other than your mouth. The slick slap of skin on skin spurs you on, and Rafayel’s hand rips through the fabric on the couch with sharp nails you now feel digging into the back of your neck.

“I’m almost–” He warns, and you nearly choke in surprise at the feeling of something swell against the base of his cock, a firm, round intrusion that has Rafayel sobbing. Then, he comes, overflowing down your throat as you force yourself off, thick ropes of cum covering your face and shooting over his bare abdomen and chest, and then more. And more.

All of that, and he’s still hard.

Despite the strands of cum dripping between your hands, chin, and his cock, Rafayel still feels no relief. The bulge against the base of his cock inflates more, and he trills, a deep sound akin to whalesong deep in his chest.

“It’s no use, I need…” A breathy moan, and Rafayel yanks you both to your feet. “Ocean. Now.”

His words devolve into incoherent rambling, and you nod, dragged alongside him as he clings to you like a child, his weight nearly toppling you both over as his knees buckle. You catch him, but his strength is inhuman, and even with the help of your Evol he could crush you.

You are his.

You will finally be his.

Rafayel’s grip around you tightens, and a possessive growl rumbles against his throat. He needs to feel you against him, inside him, his instincts screaming to mark you in every way conceivable.

The studio's back doors lead directly to the beach, and the summer night breeze hits Rafayel with a delicious chill against his burning skin. The air tastes of salt and brine, the scent familiar and comforting— the smell of home.

The ocean is as gorgeous as it is terrifying in the midst of night. The roar of the waves and the silver reflection of the full moon are the only things illuminating the vast darkness before you. Yet Rafayel shows no such fear as he tugs you further along the beach, kissing and nipping and groping at you endlessly as he strips you of your clothes, his own following suit.

"You'll regret leaving me after this," Rafayel whispers, pressing his lips to the pulse of your neck.

"Silly fishie," you murmur, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever leave you?"

He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You figured he was simply being overdramatic yet again, but Rafayel refuses to meet your eyes, smiling in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty. “Of course, silly me. Why would anyone ever leave me?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair, preening. ”I’m perfect.”

You scoff, shoving him gently as you roll your eyes. Of course he would be cocky right before getting his brains fucked out.

"Well, you are quite pretty for a fish."

Rafayel laughs, deep and rumbling in his chest, a contagious sound that has you laughing too, until the cold spray of the ocean hits you with a light mist. The crest of another wave surges against you, curling around your ankles and knees as the tide ebbs and flows. Rafayel spares you one last teasing grin before running further into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a splash.

You can’t help but feel nervous as you watch and listen for a break in the sea, knowing when your lover emerges, he will be a wholly different being than the one you’ve memorized every curve and edge of.

But you want him to know you’ll accept him regardless. No matter how scaled or fish-like or ugly he may become.

As if testing you, your mind conjures up a horrid fish-monster complete with swampy hair and a shark’s face before you chase the thought away, shaking your head violently. There’s no way a man as gorgeous as Rafayel could turn into a creature so hideous… Right?

Regardless, you’d help him. Regardless, you’d stay with him, love him.

This you vowed.

And the ocean listens, seafoam curling around your ankles before it retreats, carrying with it your promise into its depths. Keeping it.

A splash breaks the surface of the waves and you squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you see the outline of a man, cutting through the waves with a dull glow, as if parting the waters themselves.

“Surely you don’t plan on making me wait any longer.” Rafayel complains, “Join me, my muse. My heart.”

His voice coaxes you forward, and like a sailor drawn by a siren’s call, you walk further into the ocean. Each soft wave crashes higher against your legs until the salty spray hits the bare skin of your stomach, and you flinch from the chill against every sensitive part of your body.

Finally, he’s close enough for you to see everything in the evening glow, and your breath leaves you entirely.

He’s still your Rafayel, the mischievous glow against his duochromatic eyes reminds you of that much, but there’s a vibrant blue glow to them, a clearer blue than the ocean itself, one that freckles down his neck and body with bioluminescent markings. There’s also that familiar pointed smile he still wears, only, at the upper corner you catch the glint of fangs. Even longer than before. A splash, and your attention snaps behind him, where an enormous tail flicks impatiently out of the waves, a pale blue rippling into the color of the ocean’s depths, complete with purples and blues so dark it could be night itself.

Dragging a hand across his cheek, you press your forehead against his own. “You’re gorgeous.”

Rafayel’s ears heat up, and he can hardly stop himself from succumbing to his instinct begging him to take you, to lure you into the stormy depths and to fuck you until you lay writhing, full of his brood on the seafloor.

Instead, he lets you explore him, his new body, and what remained of the man you knew. Drunk on his siren’s call, you are pulled closer to him, waves lapping at your chest now as you trace the swirls of purple, vermillion, and gold markings dancing down his chest, scales of the same hues following down until the warmth of Rafayel’s skin turns to the cold, smooth feel of scales and he gasps against your touch.

One moment you’re standing against the waves and the next you’re dragged back to shore, pinned against the sand.

“I’m sorry, I promise you’ll have more time to ogle and worship my body another day.” You scoff, about to throw a snarky reply when Rafayel presses his tail between your legs, yards of it still tailing behind the two of you as you’re effectively pinned. “But right now, I need to breed my pretty little mate full.”

You whine, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he can babble any more nonsense. His lips taste like seafoam and smoke, and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his tail begin to roll into your hips, the motion smooth from the foreign texture of his scales and your own dripping slick.

“Ah, you’re going to have to…” Almost embarrassed, Rafayel’s hand leaves yours, trailing down his own body as he prods against the underside of his tail. Curious, your fingers follow his own, finding a spot where the rough scales turn soft and smooth, a seam that feels like muscle, and within it, an equally wet slit. “There.”

You’re too desperate to even tease him, working your fingers in gentle circles until you ease one in, stroking the smooth velvet of his walls until both of your fingers can slip in. Then, something bumps against your fingers, prodding as you help coax it out.

Rafayel groans, his enormous body convulsing as he presses against you. “Hurry up.” He grinds harder, nearly pulling you deeper into his slit. “Hurry up, hurry up, you’re taking too long.”

Rafayel has always been a demanding lover. But not like this. Not like he might actually die if he isn’t inside of you right at this very moment.

You huff, amused. Why not make him suffer just a little more?

“What do we say when we want something, Rafayel?”

“Fuck. You are impossibly cruel, can’t you see I’m already suffering and yet still you make an effort to be so–” You curl your fingers up, knuckles roughly knocking against his still-sheathed cock. You very well almost come undone at the face he makes, twisted in pleasure as his eyes roll back, jaw slack with a high-pitched whine as he arches into your punishing touch. “Please! Please, ah, I’ll beg. I’ll beg, I’ll- fuck - I’ll fill you so well, I swear, just let me breed you.”

How could you say no to something so sweet?

Finally pulling his cock free, your breath catches at the sheer weight of it, heavy against your stomach and at least two inches longer and rough to the touch, ridges slick with how badly he’s leaking as you feel up and down his tapered length. But, unlike back at his studio, this liquid is clear and leaves pinpricks against your palm, almost going numb as he spills and drips onto your skin.

Rafayel gasps, “Antispastic. It’s muscle relaxant to keep our mates comfortable and pliant for us.”

Comfortable and pliant. You suddenly feel the very opposite, especially when you remember the end goal of this mating session.

“Shh,” Rafayel coos against your ear as though hearing your fears, his fingers already working against your entrance as he whispers sweet nothings and praise into your ears. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt any more than you want it to.”

And with that his fingers retreat, grinding his enormous form closer as you feel the nudge of his cock against your core, pushing in with the help of the gentle rocking from the waves, tapered tip making the stretch easier.

You wince and Rafayel immediately kisses you, distracting you with his tongue before he hilts himself in one brutal movement, pinning you down as you thrash in protest. The pain only blinds you for a second, and then the relaxant does its work, filling you with a warm, tingling feeling that almost has you floating. You let out a garbled plea and Rafayel coos in response, lacing his fingers with yours.

Despite already being fucked deep within you, Rafayel’s hips rut insistently against yours, pushing and pushing until you can feel the round bulge at the base of his cock grind against your clit, making you cry into his lips.

Every ridge on the side of his cock catches deliciously against your walls, and you arch off the beach, your legs twitching against Rafayel’s tail until he lifts one up, nipping against your ankle and calf before hooking it over his shoulder, still suckling at the delicate skin around your inner thigh.

The intimacy of it all scares you.

For the past month Rafayel has been insatiable, as if once he finally got you in his bed he never wanted you to leave again, always finding a way to lure you on top of him or trap you underneath, the perfect picture of lust. Regardless, it would always end with fast, frenzied fucking. But not like this.

Not with him slowly rocking into you, pulling back until just his tip remained before grinding all the way in as he whispered songs in a language you could not understand. Not with him intertwining his fingers with yours and watching your every reaction with utmost receptiveness and adoration. Not with him kissing away your tears as you come undone.

But for Rafayel, this was long overdue.

After all, he’s chased you throughout every lifetime, forsaking his people, giving up his heart, and vowing himself to you time and time again despite knowing how it ends— how it always will.

Your face goes slack at your sudden orgasm, but Rafayel helps you through it, one hand unlacing from yours as he thumbs your clit until your shudders subside. He whispers, not caring that you’re still too fucked-out to hear. “I’m not a patient man, you know. I’ve been waiting for centuries. And now you’re here, you’re here and you’re all mine.” Another kiss to your forehead before he feels that uncontrollable heat rise again, letting it take over. “I’m never letting you go again.”

When you come to the first thing you feel again is the rhythmic pounding against your sweet spot, and you writhe against the sand with a violent gasp. Desperate for some sort of relief, your hands push at Rafayel’s chest, futilely trying to force him back or at least get him to slow down until another particularly rough thrust has you sobbing, clawing at his arms and shoulders.

But Rafayel hardly seems to notice. He’s lost himself entirely, eyes glazed over as they fixate on where his cock bullies into you, muscles across his back and tail pushing him forward with a force that makes you scream. Fueled by your mindless whimpers, he forces his cock in deeper, chasing his release so he can finally, finally fuck you full.

Rafayel also doesn’t last long, his third orgasm hitting him violently enough that he nearly collapses on top of you, purring against your throat with a trill that comes from deep within his chest. His fangs dig into the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he continues to come, rope after rope coating your cervix, filling you with a warmth alongside the muscle relaxant. You nearly come too, almost uncomfortably wet, slick enough that even the monstrous ridges alongside Rafayel’s cock slip deeper and deeper inside you with terrifying ease.

Again, he moans something in another language, a series of clicks and purrs rumbling from his chest, eyes dark and unfocused as he forces you to look up at him. “You’ve been so, so good for me. Pretty little mate needs to be fucked full though, ya? Need to be filled with my brood?” You don’t even realize you’ve come at his words, something else squirming against your clit below his swollen base. Rafayel licks your tears away, tongue nonhuman as its length curls around your cheek, moaning at the taste of your sweat, arousal, and seasalt. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll defy your silly human biology, make you a mommy.”

Fighting to prop yourself up against the sand, you reach down, hand trembling as it thumbs against Rafayel’s slit once more. But this time, something else has begun to emerge.

Rafayel sobs against your neck, keeping what you now realize is his first cock buried greedily inside you, unwilling to pull out by any more than an inch. Drunk off of him, you messily press two fingers into his slit, hiking your legs further up his shoulders to give you better access to where the two of you are joined against the splash of the waves.

Dipping your fingers in, you inhale sharply at the squirm of something rough, thumbing the coil out as it writhes and curls into the warmth of your palm. his second cock is not, well, it’s a tentacle for lack of a closer human anatomical reference. All ridges and scales as you coax it to a similarly monstrous length as the first, but thicker, writhing as though possessing a mind of its own.

And right below it, you feel the obvious bulge against Rafayel’s tail where his eggs are.

You’re suddenly very, very grateful for the Lemurians’ natural muscle relaxant.

Despite the slick practically leaking from you, you still tense as the tip of the tentacle dick begins to flick and tease at your already full entrance, not giving you a moment to breathe before it begins pushing in alongside the first. It pokes and prods enough to have you whimpering before Rafayel holds your thighs still and thrusts, forcing both his cocks in to the hilt.

It feels impossible. It shouldn't be possible.

But the way he fits is perfect, a tight, burning stretch, the ridges along his first cock and the suctions on the second bruising you in ways that make you scream, vision going dark around the edges as Rafayel moans into your ears. Your cunt feels abused to the point of numbness, the pain dissolving as your mouth hangs open, jaw slack as nonsensical babbles and pleas fall from your lips.

And, fuck, Rafayel doesn’t even bother waiting to let you regain your sanity before his two cocks start pistoning in and out of you, the bottom one curling and stroking against the first, effortlessly brutal along the slick walls of your cunt. His fangs ghost along the shell of your ear as he splays his huge, slightly webbed hand across your lower belly.

"How deep am I?" He rolls his hips again, rougher. You cry as Rafayel’s weight forces you to tuck further under him, nearly folding you in half as your legs press against his tail. "Can I go deeper? Can I? Please, please, please—"

You gasp, mewling and writhing as you feel the bottom cock begin to squirm again. Bullying its way into your cervix, it thrashes violently against that spongy spot inside you that has your vision spinning. Rafayel is fairing no better, losing the capacity for human speech altogether, moaning as his cock finally breaches the tight ring of muscle, fucking into your womb.

Even through the haze, legs numb and twitching, your body still convulses in protest as you feel the bulge pressing against your clit begin to move. Rafayel shudders right as it does, clawed hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forces you impossibly closer. The bottom cock twitches, coaxing your womb open, and you moan as you feel the bulge creep forward.

This should hurt, it should horrify you, and yet it only breaks you in ways that will ruin you for any future lovers. Not that you ever plan on leaving him. Not after this.

Rafayel thrusts one last time, waves raging around you as he does so, and you nearly sob as you feel the bulge shift up his length, dragging slowly against your walls until it presses against your cervix. Even then you only cry in pleasure, nails digging bloody crescents into Rafayel’s shoulder as he does the same against your thighs, the antispastic doing its work in keeping you deliriously wet and pliant. You roll your hips desperately against your lover, and the sudden shift in position forces the first egg beyond the tight barrier, falling into your womb.

Gods. It feels heavy, it feels wrong, it feels so fucking good you come again with a silent scream.

Rafayel swallows every noise with a messy kiss, his serpentine tongue curling around your own and sucking, nearly fucking itself into your mouth as you get lightheaded from both the lack of air and the press of his second egg already at your entrance. You sob into Rafayel’s lips, greedily moving your hips against his own, forcing him in further before he obliges, shoving your thighs further apart until your knees touch the sand too. Then you feel the weight of the second egg bump against the first, overwhelmed as the next has already begun stretching you full again.

The two of you are reduced to little more than animals, helpless fucking and licking and moaning against one another as the eggs come one after another, again and again and again until your womb feels bloated and abused, the feeling euphoric thanks to the copious amount of relaxant and cum already flooding you. Rafayel’s bottom cock convulses after depositing the seventh egg, its tip finally wriggling out from your cervix’s vise grip against it, sucking and soothing your abused walls as you come once again, sobbing and numb to the pleasure-pain.

“Perfect,” Rafayel coos against your lips, rutting insistently inside you as his fingers lace with yours, forcing you to feel the taunt skin over your womb, the bulge obvious and hyper-sensitive. “You did so well, my perfect little mate, you deserve a reward don’t you?”

Unable to form words, you nod, your entire body trembling as Rafayel laughs, thrusting his hips again, each one sharp and punishing against your overly-sensitive cunt, pelvis smacking your clit as your vision spins. He trills, a shudder overtaking his enormous body as his scales glow, pale blues and deep purples flicking violently down his skin and tail as the waves crash around him, continuing until he comes inside of you. It’s endless, the warmth coating every aching surface of your cunt up until your poor stretched womb, hot and thick as you feel Rafayel futilely attempt to keep it all in you with his dicks and then fingers.

What does end up squirting back down your thighs and onto his abdomen is lapped up by the ocean, and the waves offer a cool relief as Rafayel finally pulls out and collapses onto the sand beside you. You feel simultaneously horribly empty and heavy, something Rafayel takes note of as he pulls you against him, humming into your neck and wrapping his arms around yours, careful not to place any pressure against your sensitive middle.

He groans against your ear, and you turn in panic, only to see him back to his human form, the only evidence left of his tail the deep valleys against the sand where it once rested. You immediately regret moving, however, as the weight against your womb lurches you off balance and you moan before stilling yourself on your side. Holy fuck, how long will this last?

“R-” your voice is raspy and you wince, “Rafayel?”

He hums in answer, already kneeling beside you before lifting you easily in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he litters butterfly kisses over your forehead and nose. “What you said about the, um, fertilizing thing. These won’t actually hatch, will they?”

Again, Rafayel laughs, pressing his nose against the top of your head as he inhales. Another giggle. “Maybe.” You hit him. Hard. “Ouch, meanie. No, even with all of that there’s hardly a chance Lemurian clutches take. Not to mention you’re a human, so therefore not our necessary host.”

You choose to let his provocative word choice go over your head and sigh in relief. Thumbing gently against the bulge of your lower stomach, you lean further into Rafayel’s chest, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart thumping in time to the crash of the waves.

“But,” Rafayel sings the word with a playful lit. “If any of them do happen to fertilize, we can just fish them out before they hatch.”

“We can what.”

Gods, what did you get yourself into?

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #lnds rafayel #rafayel l&ds #rafayel x reader #lnds smut #l&ds smut #l&ds rafayel #l&ds x reader #rafayel #poisonwrites #rafayel smut

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sj-ficrecs · 4 years

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FIC REC 7:

Anotha oneeee. Here we go. Just a random collection of what I’ve read lately and I’ve been enjoying! as usual, no specific order.

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE !

Bucky x reader:

After All The Time by @wxntersoldiers Modern!Bucky x reader

“in which two best friends never seem to find the right time.”

Deadweight by @loving-bucky-is-easier Bucky x Avenger!reader

“The reader is reluctant to go on a two-person op with Bucky, and her instincts prove to be far more accurate than either of them would have thought.”

Mess Is Mine by @scrumptious-delusion Boxer!Bucky x reader

“as a date night surprise your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago, and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.”

Bud Light Bottle by @subtlebucky deactivated tumblr, but still on ao3 here! Modern!Bucky x reader

“you’re over guys and relationships, even if the stranger hitting on you at the bar is stupidly attractive and actually makes you laugh. luckily, he has a solution.“

Between The Stars by @all1e23 Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

“Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.“

Noisy Neighbors part one // two by @justkending College!Bucky x reader

“Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it…“

The Number One Rule by @justkending Modern!Bucky x reader

“Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor’s degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other’s buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.“

Just Roommates by @justkending Modern!Bucky x reader

“These two college friends have had years to grow together. Each being the others support system, adventure buddy, movie night partner, and dorky roommates. That is until things start coming to a new light in their relationship. At least for him… Is there something else there? Is it possible? Were these feelings always there?”

Cobra Snake Necktie by @moteldwelling Biker!Bucky x nurse!reader

“bucky barnes is a magnet for danger, bad karma, and pretty woman. a motorcycle crash lands him in reader’s ER, and it looks like he might have just found himself a new game of high-stakes chase. only question is, who really is the blue eyed vagabond, and what could he possibly be hiding?”

Vendetta by @moteldwelling dad’s friend!Bucky, older!Bucky x reader

“reader is as gritty as the day is long. born on the bad side of brooklyn and riding the fine line between girl and woman, she’s been brought up a brazen thing made up of one part hellfire, another part piss and vinegar.she’s also a virgin.she knows she should stay away from the man who lives just five houses down the street, too. just another concrete fact. for starters, he’s her dad’s best friend.secondly, he’s almost twenty years her senior.“

A Heart Set Free by @owlshoot Gang!Bucky x reader

“Coming from a well-off rich family, Y/N didn’t feel as though she belonged with the other like her. So with her own ambitions, she moved away to New York City. Where she meets notorious gang member Bucky Barnes. Her life goes from fancy parties and people to motorcycles and guns.”

Scorched by @whistlingwillows Bucky x reader, past Steve x reader

“You utterly destroyed me, you know that? I loved you more than I needed to breathe and you just walked away. I lost everything and you walked away.”

Forever and Always by @jbbarnesandnoble Modern!Bucky x reader

“you and Bucky used to date, until someone got in between you two. after a year without seeing him, he pops up in your life again, and old feelings with him? harsh words can never be taken back, but can they be forgiven?”

What in Carnation? by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend College!Bucky x reader

“The swim team is holding a flowergram fundraiser for Valentine’s day, and you have a secret admirer.”

We’re Fools by @achillieus College!Bucky x reader

“for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.“

Better by @captainscanadian Doctor!Bucky x doctor!reader

“Dr. James Barnes has it all: a loving family, caring best friends, and a successful career as one of the best heart surgeons in New York. He has everything he ever wanted his whole life… well, almost everything. One thing he never thought he could ever have was Y/N Y/L/N. She may have been a lot of things, but he loved her because she made him better.”

Who You Are and Who You’ve Been by @sunmoonandbucky older!Bucky x older!reader

“Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.”

Hatred Heals by @wintersfilm Bucky x reader, enemies to lovers.

“your healing powers allow you to make sure the team survives their missions but some members are just too stubborn to let you help them.“

Truth or Dare by @soap-bubble-nebula Bucky x reader

“Natasha asks the reader while they are all hanging out together which guy she would go out with if she had to pick and she refuses to tell them even though she knows she would pick Bucky because she likes him, and everyone in the team keeps asking and trying to get it out of her everyday until she finally breaks and admits she would choose Bucky right in front of him, accidentally, but he likes her too.”

Winter by @kaylawritesfics WS!Bucky x reader

“Being paired with Hydra’s most elite soldier proves to be much less more exciting than you originally thought.”

Neighborly Behavior by @angrythingstarlight Biker!Bucky x reader

“Your new home comes with some unexpected bonuses. A small front yard, a room you can turn into an office, a hot biker named Bucky that lives next door. You’re going to love it here.”

Baby It’s Cold Outside by @world-of-aus Modern!Bucky x reader

“Freshly single and with the holidays rolling around, you’re offered an opportunity by your best friend that you’re not sure you can pass up, what the worse that could happen?“

Of Arranged Marriages and Unrequited Love by @s-tarksintern 1920s!AU Bucky x Reader, arranged marriage

“Y/N Stark was always set to marry James Buchanan Barnes as part of a deal made years before her. James and Y/N were stuck together whether they liked and those two seriously didn’t like being stuck together.”

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sultryvodka · 3 years

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𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚! 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙢𝙖𝙮 4𝙩𝙝

warnings: mild swearing, mildly suggestive (if you squint lol)

| armin - colt - eren - jean - porco |

armin arlert

• i think most, if not all of us, agree that armin looks like the type to get all flustered with PDA & shy away from his emotions --- HOWEVER.

• rather than being all over you, he finds himself most comfortable with holding your hand or having an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

• he wouldn't mind you being clingy though 👀

• would occasionally place a gentle peck on your forehead, cheeks & his personal favorite; the palm of your hands.

• you guys' dates would mostly end up being in a library, café & restaurants with a nice warm atmosphere.

• i bet he would be the kind of guy to take you to the beach whenever you're stressed out in hopes of calming you down.

• gets very defensive when his friends tease you, if a man could bark his friends away, it's armin arlert.

• this lad over here would establish a routine with you (with your consent & opinions ofc)

• mondays to friday mornings are centered on school, you guys do your own thing at school & walk you home while making sure to stop by a convenience store for snacks, assuming that you guys don't live together yet.

• both of you make it a point to check on one another to make sure you guys aren't wearing yourselves out.

• which leads me to the conclusion that your parents grew very fond of him & treats him more like their child

• when you guys are having a sleepover, this whole lowkey facade of his takes a 180 and the second you reach the bedroom he'll shower you with cuddles and kisses.

• you would watch movies (mostly rom-com just bc armin makes it work okay) tucked in a warm futon with popcorn and candies between you two.

• armin strikes me as a very studious guy and he does this to ensure you guys' future together ^-^

• all in all armin cares about you so much and he doesn't mind being vulnerable to you. he is your safe haven, and so are you to him.

colt grice

• okay can we talk about how this perfect man deserves some more attention

• colt, my man, gives me disney's prince florian vibes. the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, & just an absolute dream.

• he's the kind of guy to take you to the park, a greenhouse, & WORKSHOPS!!!

• given the idea that he is in fact a shy little baby, he is actually pretty active with you. every date you guys have is different. mans has a quest planned out for y'all.

• at school i think that you might be the one to initiate skinship. doesn't have to be kisses on the lips, it's more of gently trailing your index on the back of his hand or rubbing a hand on his forearm when he gets a little anxious.

• the type to peek through your classroom's door because bubba's too shy to ask someone to call for you 🤧

• colt, in my opinion, is very domestic in private, now don't get me wrong he may be a little too shy in public because he isn't used to it but i promise you he takes on the nurturing role of the relationship more than you are.

• he helps you with cleaning, folding your clothes, and god if you guys get periods, he's got a whole pouch in his locker just for you.

• he doesn't do it intentionally, he happens to know you so well that he notices the slight change in your moods & cravings.

• colt often reads a book while you guys cuddle during the afternoons once all the work is done, he'd make you tea or whatever you want. he hums a tune, probably from old disney movies that his brother falco used to enjoy as a kid.

• your parents are more invested in your marriage than you and colt combined.

• okay, now if you happen to have a baby or a toddler somewhere around the house, someone keep this man from turning into a putty.

• as much as colt acts prim and proper most of the time, he has his moments where he just wants to be an entire mess. perhaps sleeping past his usual waking time, indulging in more snacks than usual. you know, loosen up? yeah, that is a side of his that only YOU will ever be allowed to see.

• so yes you and colt would be labeled as the: put-together couple who needs a little bit of adventure every now and then.

eren jaeger

• i hope i don't ramble too long because i love him sm

• mr. loverboy over here is a simp for you, more than you are a simp for him! he is not afraid to show you off and shower you with flattery. now he does this because he feels so lucky to have you.

• he can be a little cliché (well maybe not as much as jean --- more on that later), like he'll randomly interrupt your vacant class with a gift box he put together, & a bouquet. yes. (carla helped him pick out flowers from her shop)

• he's the type to crash his lips with yours in the middle of campus when you achieve something or when he does, vice-versa. if he plays in one of your school's teams, there just HAS to be a bet that if he wins he gets a kiss... or more... or something else.

• dates with eren are usually random than planned. like it pops in his head and he'll inform you right away. he respects your vacancy too of course but if you aren't he might pout just a little bit.

• his ideal dates are prop shop dates, going to hotspots, amusement parks, antique shops! & maybe late night drinks at a quiet bar where you can both enjoy the solace of the atmosphere.

• on special occasions, he does plan ahead. usually it's something on the simpler side. candlelit dinners at home or somewhere you guys both enjoy dining.

• if eren's had a bad day, best believe that he will run to you for comfort. only you can help keep his aggressive response to anger at bay.

• if given the chance he would take you around the world, he's that passionate in making sure you live a little

• hear me out... you and eren would probably have the most philosophical conversations, just laying on your backs beneath his room's skylight? heavenly.

• eren can get a little poetic expressing himself & i believe that it's just wonderful. no one can describe their feelings as good as eren.

• his favorite look of yours is when your eyes beam with excitement, it usually happens when you spot something that you used to enjoy as a kid or when you're concentrating on one of your hobbies.

• he's a very touchy person too, his hands are usually on your stomach/waist, his kisses are random & they linger for awhile.

• when you're asleep next to him, it's his habit to solemnly watch you while his own drowsiness starts to take over.

• eren is passionate & sometimes people might take it the wrong way. one of the reasons eren loves you is because of the way you understand how he is. mutual growth for y'all ♡.

jean kirschtein

• jean is not afraid to pull a live performance for you, you see this man is at the top of the world when he's with you. from 80s hits to recent releases this man will blast his playlists catered for you.

• dates with jean are certainly spent on concerts, (him & eren bond over chase atlantic don't argue with me) music festivals, thrifting & late night drives!!!

• personally, i don't see jean as very gimmicky unless you guys are with his friends, he takes you very seriously and you are his top priority.

• at school i think he's definitely one of those flirtatious boyfriends. the kind who would not miss an opportunity to blow you a kiss or throw you a wink. he can be a bit of a dork, who wouldn't be? if he can get one of your rare smiles 🥺

• jean's the type to ask his pals for help when it comes to styling. not because he dresses badly but he's too focused on getting a flush on your cheeks. he's a hopeless romantic.

• if you guys happen to stay at home, he'll definitely serenade you with the amount of songs he had written recently just for you.

• since he bonds with sasha and connie, his jokes are either dad jokes or something that went viral on tiktok. he's the perfect balance of goofy and mature.

• if you aren't much of an active person he wouldn't mind being lazy with you and insist on a diy spa day at home.

• it's just netflix with a tub of ice cream and face masks on.

• since jean is quite the romantic, he would be into couple outfits or items that aren't cringey obv and probably doesn't mind using your perfume or vice-versa.

• jean probably asked you out during one of his gigs, offering you a single rose afterwards.

• he's the type to leave you random post-it notes if he visits your house. just random phrases or doodles. and boy does he pick you up every single day on his smexy motorcycle.

• he'll bring you coffee and breakfast to-go. this man's spoiling you baby.

• aside from that, i feel like jean would make you hand-made gifts with the help of his momma. he thinks it's sentimental when you make your presents because it's one of a kind.

• jean does all these things because he's 100% about you being a constant person in his life. he loves how he can be whoever he wants when he's around you, i'm certain you guys wouldn't have it any other way either.

porco galliard

• porco can be a dick if he wants to not to you though, this tough guy turns into putty just for you. he definitely loves being treated like a baby.

• at first he might come off as cold because he isn't used to the whole romance thing and he gets flustered with the slightest pecks so you might have to initiate at first.

• but once you guys get through the awkward phase this boy would straight up greet you with a passionate kiss and does not give a damn about everybody who witnessed it. he might even have a stupid smirk on his face.

• like eren, i feel like porco would be very passionate and intense. he doesn't say much but he definitely shows you just how much he adores you.

• speaking of friends (: reiner would tease him every second of the day. i bet he would team up with bertholdt to annoy this poor boy. annie and pieck's not much help either.

•whenever you're stressed, porco would run you a bath and give you massages very often. he'll sit on the edge of the tub while he runs his hand through your hair.

•his type of dates would be watching at a cinema or a drive-in, going to the mall just to look around,he's a simple guy.

•if you guys happen to have an argument, porco would distance himself for a few minutes to a few hours just to process the situation and avoid anything his aggression might cause.

•he knew that if he wanted you guys to work he needed to be better.

•he would come back though and hold you in his arms while you guys talk it out.

•i bet he's one of the aot characters who would be an athlete, so most days you'll end up watching him practice.

•overtime, porco would be more open to being intimate in public and post stories of you two just doing things most couples do.

•he's proud that you're his and he's all yours.

•porco is a great guy and he would do anything just to make you smile.

i hope you guys liked these~! let me know who you guys want to be in the second part. requests are open and as always, stay safe! - 🌸☁️

#aot headcanons #aot x you #armin headcanons #armin arlert fluff #colt headcanons #colt grice fluff #eren headcanons #eren jaeger fluff #jean headcanons #jean kirschtein fluff #porco headcanons #porco galliard fluff #🌸☁️ works

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 10: Crash and Burn

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, mentions of trauma/ parental death

Summary: It’s finally time to give Sturm a test drive. Everything should go just fine….Right?

Feedback appreciated. 18+

No smut this time…sorry

The day had arrived: Sturm was finally ready for a real test drive. Heisenberg was on cloud nine, waking up Juniper early. He greeted her bedside with a cup of coffee, urging her up and into the kitchen. After she was awake enough to cook, they made breakfast together.

Heisenberg fried sausage links while Juniper buttered toast. A shared breakfast was rare between them with their differing times of rising.

They sat at the table across from one another. Heisenberg smiled at her, thinking they looked like a perfect little married couple. She looked so sweet to him in the mornings: curly hair a mess and cheeks still rosy with sleep.

Juniper moved her breakfast around her plate pondering, “Hey, why does the Duke allow you to have a tab when it’s apparently ‘against policy’ ?”

Heisenberg stabbed a piece of sausage before he spoke, “Well, do business with him damn near a hundred years and he may work more with you.”

He chewed a mouthful before continuing, “And besides I only use a tab when I send you out to pick up my orders.”

“Why?!”

“I don’t trust you with a satchel of lei.” He smirked.

“That’s rude.” Juniper wrinkled her nose, “And sexist.”

Heisenberg nodded along with her as he ate.

Seeing him agreeing made her lips curl in a small smile.

“Misogynistic?” He asked, mischief in his eyes, pointing his fork to her with a raised brow.

“It may be.” She giggled.

“And dare I say, stereotypical?” He fixed her with a mock seriousness.

“All of the above.” She agreed, trying to mimic the tone.

They held the stare down for a long moment, both trying to keep their lips from twitching.

They failed.

The kitchen erupted with a storm of laughter. Heisenberg put his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound, causing Juniper to lose her composure even further.

She loved to see his eyes crinkle with real glee.

Juniper followed him down to the workshop, assisting in getting the comatose Sturm onto a cart and clipping the restringing bands into place.

He kissed her forehead, thanking her for her help as he began to push the cart towards the elevator.

They didn’t go to the arena, Sturm not quite battle ready. This was just his first test drive, to let him fully power on in an open space.

Heisenberg picked the room that Juniper had previously laid waste to, seeing as it couldn’t get much worse. Or so he thought.

He sat the cart down, unbuckling the restraints and instructing Juniper to stay plenty back.

He joined her, excitement oozing from him.

Sturm powered on, the hum of his motor filling the room. He stood up, taking several heavy steps before pausing, the sound like a motorcycle emanating from him as he revved his engine.

Juniper glanced at Heisenberg, seeing worry pricking his face. His jaw was tight but his eyes didn’t leave his creation.

Suddenly Sturm surged forward, moving as fast as his legs would allow. The chainsaw propeller turned wildly as he went.

Sturm didn’t stop or even slow down until he ran headfirst into a series of pipes in the walls. Juniper frowned, seeing the overly large core on his back flickering dangerously.

The creature tugged backward once, finding itself stuck.

Heisenberg made a sound of aggravation, starting to walk forward to assist. It was too late.

Strum lifted his arms in an attempt to free himself easier. Before Heisenberg could get close enough Sturm had pulled away from the pipes.

His propeller instantly spun back to life, without the foresight to remove his arms.

“Shit!” Heisenberg yelled as Sturm’s arms were quickly and efficiently sliced off at the elbows.

Black blood spurted out from the stumps as the creature struggled to turn around. The forearms fell like stones on the floor, fingers twitching.

Juniper’s stomach fell as she watched the creature almost slip in its own puddle of blood clumsily. It was clear he wouldn’t function smoothly.

“What the fuck are you doing, you piece of metal garbage?!” Heisenberg yelled, storming closer. Juniper felt the pressure rise in the room.

Sturm stomped just enough out of the way of Heisenberg, surging forward a second time and just running with wild abandon across the room, spilling gore as he went.

Heisenberg didn’t move for a moment, watching Sturm bump into the opposite wall, almost dumbfounded.

But as the shock evaporated it was replaced with pure rage and embarrassment.

His charms clinked together as a heavy hum started to rumble around him.

All the little pieces of metal started to rise and vibrate.

“….Karl?” Juniper called out worriedly, taking a tentative step toward him.

Heisenberg’s head hardly turned toward her before he growled, “Get out.”

Juniper shook a bit, her compassion overriding her sense of self preservation, “Karl, please talk to me.”

He looked at his hands, the metal swirling more erratically.

“I said, get the fuck out!” He bellowed, baring his teeth. His muscles were tight and the air seemed to pop.

Juniper turned and fled, running up the stairs. As soon as she was a safe distance away she heard the room explode with noise. The sound of scrapping metal and things being thrown with inhuman force reverberated throughout the factory.

Heisenberg's voice could just be heard over the chaos, screaming obscenities.

Juniper kept moving, grabbing her coat as she went. She’d never seen him that bad, that far into his anger. Slight fear swirled her stomach, she wanted fresh air.

She didn’t stop moving until she burst through the entry door, her boots meeting snow.

She stopped, bracing her hands on her knees as she took ragged breaths. Her heart hammered like a scared bird in her rib cage.

She could still hear the muffled impacts of Heisenberg’s anger, even up here.

She steadied herself, needing more space. She looked up to the back gate, the way leading to the mountains.

As soon as she was past the gate she was greeted with company. A group of Lycans, and even a varcolac, decided to follow her.

They all started the trek up the mountain path.

His boiling anger slowly turned into a simmer, the rage becoming a dull throb. His arms fell limply to his sides, sweat soaking into his shirt.

Sturm still wandered around the room, haphazardly getting caught in the pipes.

Heisenberg’s breath was ragged as he watched the creature bumble around. He hated it, hated that it was such a glaring failure.

All the time he wasted on him made his stomach turn. He looked down at his gloved hands, grimacing, the conviction to destroy more leaving him.

Now the displeasure of his failure seeped into his bones and he hungered for something other than chaos. He wanted comfort.

He looked around the room, at all the destruction and sharpness of twisting metal.

“Doll?” He called out, hoping she had stayed somewhat close. He waited for a long moment, listening above the grind of machinery, for a response. Silence greeted him.

Sighing he made his way to the apartment, it being her normal escape from his outbursts.

It, too, was oddly quiet. Heisenberg’s chest tightened as he explored further, finding the bathroom and balcony also vacant.

Worry started to etch deeply into his features.

He headed back into the factory, his sharp eyes catching that her coat was missing from its hanger near the door.

“Buttercup?!” He called loudly down the open elevator shaft. When no answer came the worry became a stinging thorn in his chest.

Had he gone too far this time?

The thought poisoned him as he made his way down each level. Doors rattled open by themselves as he passed, his fingers almost itching to press the alarm. When only the familiar sounds of the factory greeted him he began to shake.

“Juniper?!” He called out finally, unable to keep his voice even. He found his way to the main door, pulling it open quickly.

There were footprints in the wet ground, much fresher than the rest.

His heart sank, eyes following them in the directions of the mountains.

The varcolac seemed to enjoy her company, padding besides her heavily as she went. In truth she had no real destination, just wanted time away. The creature’s tongue lolled out happily, other Lycans joining in. They seemed more grouped up then usual.

Juniper wasn’t scared as she’d been in the past, aware they wouldn’t harm her without being provoked.

They would even chase after small items she found if she threw them. She giggled, seeing two fighting over an old children’s toy.

Feeling a burn in her legs she decided to rest. She chose a sunny outcropping of rock.

The sun baked stone felt warm under her as she sat. The varcolac scrambled up to join her, flopping down with a deep sigh.

Between the sun and the heat radiating from the hulking beast, she was comfortably warm enough.

Juniper closed her eyes, listening to the wind through the mountains. In an odd way it was peaceful. Even when surrounded by death and twisted monsters there was an almost soothing silence.

It was in moments like these she could attempt to process everything she’d been through. The trauma that hid in the dark parts of her mind, waiting to pounce on her when she was weak.

She tried to remember her life before.

So much was stripped away. Flashes of her past coated in pain and haze. She couldn’t remember the faces of her family, or her mother. They were gone, but now even their memories were taken from her.

She felt a tear run down her cheek, like a bead of fire down her chilled face. She pulled her legs up to her chest, sniffing. As much as she tried to ignore it everything just felt fragile and foreign. She burst into broken sobs.

The varcolac shifted besides her, sniffing at her coat when it heard her anguish.

She wiped her nose on her coat sleeve, trying to calm down. Juniper attempted to fill her mind with all the positives: she was alive, had a warm bed to sleep in and didn’t go hungry. Touching her compass, her mind went to Heisenberg. Although he was rough and capricious, he was hers. She truly cared for him, so much more than she thought possible. Her heart swelled, the feeling soothing her.

The Lycans stirring and scurrying away caused her to look up. Heisenberg stood on the trail a few paces down. He was still, his eyes a mix of anger and fear behind his shades.

The varcolac gave a low growl as he took a step towards her.

His head snapped towards the creature, baring his teeth. It whimpered, shrinking back before scrambling off the rock.

Heisenberg huffed out before looking back at Juniper. She didn’t feel like she could breathe, her earlier thoughts still hanging heavily over her.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He looked over her, previous worries making his voice harder then he intended.

His tone caused her to spill over again. Juniper blinked up at him with large glassy green eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as her face scrunched up.

All the anger drained from Heisenberg’s form, worry and fear quickly replacing it.

He crumpled down, throwing his arms around her. She yelped as he pulled her into a desperate hug. He clutched her tightly, giving a pleading whisper into her hair, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He gulped, all the words tumbling from his lips, “Please don’t leave.”

He thought she was running away?

That realization struck Juniper like a bolt of lightning. Her hands found his back, returning the hug and burying her messy face into his coat.

She felt him tremble a bit under her, causing her to sob anew. Unaware of the true reasonings behind her crying he scooped her up off the rock, not wanting to lose her for a moment.

“Please come back.” He whispered, almost crushing her to his chest.

“I-I…” Juniper sniffled, trying to formulate a full sentence.

Heisenberg let her go enough to look at her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks a mess, hair clinging to the moisture. He reached up with a free hand and smoothed the hair away.

“I…I wasn’t.” She looked down, “I wasn’t running away.”

Heisenberg shuttered with relief, his lips weakly twitching into a smile.

“You were so angry…I.” Juniper sniffed, “I just wanted to go outside for a bit…to see the mountains. I don’t want to leave.”

His heart soared, cradling her back to his chest.

She gulped, feeling the stress flow out of his form.

Juniper held onto him until her breathing slowed.

“Karl?” She chirped.

“Hm?”

“Can we go home?”

“…of course.”

He didn’t allow her to walk until they were almost all the way back, instead holding her close as they went. She didn’t argue, enjoying his warmth.

Once back in the apartment Heisenberg showered first. After washing away all the filth and somber feelings down the drain he haphazardly dried then sprawled across the bed. He lay looking up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, fidgeting with his necklaces.

He listened to the sound of the shower as Juniper cleaned herself.

He didn’t realize how much it would hurt finding her missing, she had become a normality in his chaos.

“Karl?” Juniper chirped, approaching the bed. “Hm?” Heisenberg raised a brow, scratching his chin. He lay down across the sheets in only boxers and a light shirt.

“I was cleaning up the storage room the other day and found some old books.” She sat on the bed, one of them in her hand.

She held it up; its old leather cover showing delicate gold text, worn with time.

“I think it’s in Dutch.” She mused, opening it up.

Heisenberg shifted closer, looking at the pages.

His eyes scanned over the words for a moment before he made a sound of realization.

“It’s not Dutch, it’s in German!” He smiled. He snaked his arms around Juniper’s waist pulling her backward, deeper into the bed.

She giggled a bit as he shifted into a more comfortable position, keeping an arm around her. She cuddled into his side, looking over the words.

She was unable to read the words, but still liked looking it over in almost a childlike way.

“Why do you have so many German books?” She asked, “Can you speak German?”

“When I was younger I could.” He placed his chin on her shoulder, “Very rusty now.”

She bounced a bit, smiling excitedly.

“Say something in German!”

“Why?”

“I want to hear it.”

“Shit, give me a second”

His pale eyes clouded with thought, hugging her closer as he did so. She cuddled into his side. Juniper loved his warmth, like an electric blanket.

He shifted enough to look into her eyes.

“Du bist die sterne meiner nacht.”, his voice was gentle, the thicker accent surprising her a bit.

The way his lips moved and the way the words hit her ear enthralled her.

“What does it mean?” Juniper blinked up at him.

“If you wanted to understand me you shouldn’t have asked me to speak German.” He smirked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re a bastard!” Juniper lightly shoved him, causing him to bark with laughter.

(Du bist die sterne meiner nacht: You are the stars of my night)

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #heisenberg smut #resident evil

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

Photo

DaveFarts - Episode 11 “VoiceFarting” [Episode List] Tim and Adam are hanging out on... Liscord, playing some stuff together, waiting for Dave to join them for a game. When Adam unexpectedly has to leave however, Dave decides to do some… microphone testing.

VoiceFarting

“I’m going in as a mage ‘cause you fuckers can’t cast for shit” I heard Adam say right into my ears.

This was one of our usual game nights. We’d voice chat on Liscord on our own server and all that stuff. Adam was being, for the lack of a better term, kind of bitchy, ‘cause he thinks as himself as the most skilled gamer around even though we’re always reviving his ass. In the end it’s all in good fun of course, but we’d all happily mute him during a match if we could.

“Yes, Adam. Have fun with the ‘easy mode’ character.” I said, deliberately baiting him.

“Listen here you little shit” he immediately blurted “I can accept that you’re gay but I’m not going to accept the fact that you’re a scrub.” he said, obviously joking, though he did take skills seriously during a match.

“Yeah yeah but I’m the one using the axe, fighting enemies face-to-face like a man.” I kept teasing him. “How’s going up there? Still casting light arrows from your safe space?” I cackled.

“Excuse me???” his icon lighting up, the audio clipping “Why don’t we check your stats instead? Too afraid of looking like the scrub you are??? I literally made no mistakes last time.”

“Of course you didn’t: the chance of making mistakes is like 0% when you stand still and far from the battle.”

There was a moment of silence, then I heard Adam’s breath into the mic “You know I know where you live, right?”

I laughed but before I could continue this very deep and mature battle of wits, we both heard the sound notifying us that our bud Dave joined the voice chat. Now, whenever Dave joins, we usually hear every sound except for his voice, so we were ready to have our ears busted because of the noi-

“Hey noobs!” Dave greeted us, with a voice that was instead crystal clear.

“What the hell” both me and Adam said, our avatars lighting up at the same time.

“I see you noticed that you can now hear my beautiful voice perfectly.” he bragged, and rightfully so.

Normally we could hear his PC’s fans, what was going on down the street, cars passing by, atoms crashing into each others… farts. But now it was just Dave with his now-soothing voice calling us names.

“Are you finished?” Adam said.

But there was no response from Dave.

“Did he finally die?” Adam continued.

I heard a faint sigh of relief from Dave and then he went “Yeah, now I’m finished.”

I kind of suspected what happened but I didn’t say a word.

“Wait. You didn’t hear a thing?” Dave asked, puzzled.

Both me and Adam shrugged as if he could see us, but then said that no, we didn’t.

My detective skills told me that my gassy straight bud ripped one of his classic loud farts, but the new microphone had that “background noise reduction” feature (which my friend seriously needed) so it didn’t register his ass-blast as the old one usually did, so much so that Dave’s frequent farts would eventually turn into white noise for the rest of us. But now, his new headset was actually worth the price and all we could hear was indeed his voice.

“Can we just get into the game befo-“ Adam blurted, but was cut off mid-sentence by a loud, ear-piercing sound coming from Dave, though that wasn’t him speaking or screaming.

My fartbro really didn’t want us to miss what his ass is capable of, so we were both startled by a powerful, audio-clipping fart that completely overwhelmed our voice begging him to stop. And he did stop, but only after like 12 seconds. The rip was followed by the sound of Dave re-adjusting his microphone and laughing. “Hopefully you heard that now.” he chuckled.

I did hear it. I was very familiar with it. Truth is that Dave farting during our game sessions wasn’t anything new however. Even I was used to it, though that did pitch a tent in my shorts. I started wondering whether Dave was in jeans, shorts or boxers. Probably the latter, and shirtless, given that it was a warm evening. I tried to not to let my usual simp-ness over my bro take over me but apparently it was already too late, as I didn’t even notice Adam begin pissed off about an unwanted phone call.

“I’m sorry guys, I gotta take this one.” he said, annoyed. “Do not wait for me. Cya tomorrow I guess.”

And logged off, another sound notifying us that he went into the terrible real world realm.

“Alone at last, bro.” Dave said, in a flirty tone, just as Adam left.

I laughed and mindlessly switched to a different, this time single-player game as we needed at least 3 guys to play, one of those brutal action games that I suck at but I have to beat.

Dave did the same, with a similar game, and we both started gaming on our own but keeping each other company, like we usually do, occasionally exchanging opinions on what we were playing and so on.

“It’s probably his ex-girlfriend” Dave said.

“Yeah. I figured.” I simply answered.

Adam wasn’t really talkative about his personal stuff like me or even Dave, so neither us really knew what was going on. But if our bud didn’t want us to know, not fully know at least, then we respect this decision.

After a couple of more minutes of silence, I heard some sounds coming from Dave. Not a fart, this time though.

“Did you say something?” I asked.

I heard some muffled noises and then Dave’s voice, lower than usual though “I’m just messing with the settings here. I feel like sometimes the volume gets messed up.” and he was right.

“Yeah the audio is kind of low now.” I warned him.

I heard some more noises (keyboard tapping, mouse clicking, etc.) and then I heard him speak again.

Or, to be more precise, he did make a sound with his mouth, though those weren’t words; a loud belch, actually, right into my ears. Dave was more of a farter, but he wasn’t new to wild, incredible burps. I honestly prefer the more disgusting butt explosion, but I still tip my hat at my bro being a masterful air-bender from both ends.

“Yes, I did hear that.” I said, anticipating his question.

He laughed. “Thank you.” he answered, belching both word with care.

A couples of minutes of silence followed, with just me and Dave occasionally chatting but overall trying to be focused on our respective games. My straight bro was however not done with the “testing”.

“Are you hearing this bro?” he suddenly asked, trying not to laugh.

“No…?” I was puzzled.

“Wait. Let me just…”

I heard Dave removing his headset and as it got farther away from his head, a familiar sound got louder and louder instead, until it became unbearable.

“Are you hearing this now?” he shouted, though I could heard him over that sound.

The sound of yet another loud blast of gas, so loud it was glitching the audio. It was long and proud, dry as some of his best rips, and it just wouldn’t stop. The boss I was fighting somehow felt how distracted I was and one-shotted me with a swipe of his flaming sword but I couldn’t even hear any in-game sound ‘cause my straight gassy bro was basically farting right into my ears, albeit indirectly.

I instinctively reached for the pitched tent between my legs as the fart kept going strong and loud, so loud in fact that I had to lower the volume ‘cause my hears were starting to hurt.

After a grand total of 18 seconds, I once again heard Dave putting his headphones back on his head, wondering whether they were radioactive or melting at this point, due to all that poisonous gas.

“I gotta say… the sound quality is pretty spot-on. What headset are you using?” I joked.

Dave chuckled. “The same as yours actually. Thanks for the advice.”

We kept chatting a bit more as if he wasn’t a gassy teasing bastard but since he *is* a gassy teasing bastard I once again heard him, with no warning nor request from me, removing his headphones again and putting them (I assume) closer to the source of his underwear-clad ass.

Unsurprisingly, yet another manly, loud rip blasted through my own headphones right into my eardrums, renewing the hard-on I had only moments before. It sounded like a motorcycle passing by and I could only imagine how badly the stench was in Dave’s room. Lasting around 11 seconds, this time it got dangerously wet-ish towards the end, which I found hilarious but also made me rightfully worried about my bro maybe going a bit too far even for both of our standards.

“Dude.” I said, laughing a bit “You might want to go easy. That sounded risky.”

Dave, being the chill guy he is, just laughed about it. “Don’t worry, dude. I’m an expert.” and he ripped a short toot that was so loud I could even hear it without the microphone going straight into his butt this time.

We then kept gaming a bit more on our own. Dying over and over to that same boss made me think about how chill Dave was being -as usual- about my kink. I mean don’t get me wrong he always farted a lot while voice chatting but this time it was different, as he was now aware of my fetish. And, as always, I really appreciated that, just as I appreciated yet another thunderous blast, one that actually startled me, making me lose YET AGAIN.

“FUCK!” I blurted.

As the fart kept going, Dave moved the microphone closer to his face (but I still could hear the fart going) just to laugh at my gaming skills, completely aware however that his farts were a huge distraction on its own. He then planted the microphone once again in front of his butt and the blast went loud and proud.

“It’s just too easy.” he then chuckled, after finishing ripping that monstrous fart.

It was. I had to pause the game for a couple of minutes to calm down, the tent between my legs going harder and harder. Was Dave aware of this part as well? Of course he was, but he didn’t care. It was just a game for him, and he was constantly proving me how much of a pro gamer he was.

I hope he never gets nerfed.

End of Episode 11

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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