#suddenly i see him do comic dub after comic dub with them and i couldn’t be more proud

[rose-void-789]

Bkdk has actually made it so far to the normies like this comic dubber who years ago would have not touched any bkdk fanart or comics made abfull 13min long compilation of their comic dubs. I'm so proud of how far this ship has made it!

[butwhyduh]

Sex pollen

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Beginning Dick Tim Jason

Okay we’re going to suspend reality (like the comics) and he’s going to be like 35. I can’t imagine a relationship with anyone older. So yeah, Dick is like 25 and Bruce is 35. That math won’t work unless Bruce adopted him 17 seconds after turning 18 but we’ll ignore that.

Warning: smut. It’s on sex pollen so there is a dub con warning despite the fact that they are willing participants.

Summary: all of the batboys are dusted with Poison Ivy’s sex toxin and think they’ve taken an antidote. It didn’t quite work. This is the story about what happens to Bruce.

You saw Bruce in front of the bay computer. The usual. He was running a chemical analysis an biting his lip. He had taken off his cowl and black hair stuck to his neck with sweat. He didn’t look injured in any way so it must be a good night.

Bruce sighed and stretched his neck as you walked over to him. His brow were creased as always. Alfred was running inventory on the supplies.

You placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and he inhaled quickly causing you to jump.

“Sorry! It’s just me,” you said quickly.

“It’s okay. I’m just a little distracted,” he said looking up at you. You ran a hand through his messy hair. He leaned into your touch before turning his chair towards you. You bent down to give him a quick kiss but Bruce did two things. He grasped your chin to hold you still so he could slide his tongue in your mouth and his other hand, that you thought was going to your hair, instead grasped your breast. You pulled away quickly.

“What has gotten into you?” You asked before noting a tingling sensation in your lips. Bruce pulled you by the hips to straddle him in the chair. “Bruce, Alfred is right there,” you hissed but you didn’t move to get off.

“Perhaps, sir, I can continue the chemical analysis and you may retire to bed for the evening,” Alfred said from across the room. He too knew the antidote hadn’t worked.

“Good idea,” Bruce said standing while holding your thighs. He carried you upstairs while staring at you intensely, kissing you every once in a while. He kicked the door to the master bedroom open with his foot and you gasped. Why was that hot? He’s destroying property. Bruce carefully sat you on the bed.

“I’ve been dosed with sex pollen. I should probably go next door,” he growled while panting. He wouldn’t look at you. You could see he had barely contained the urge to touch you. But you too were wanting him.

“Bruce,” you said and he turned to look at you. The blue in his eyes was now almost overtaken by black. You too were panting. “Don’t leave. I want you,” you said and that was it. Bruce grasped the side of your face and kissed you roughly. His hands roamed your body.

Bruce pulled away suddenly. “I shouldn’t,” he breathed.

“You should,” you answered and he pushed you to the bed. His hands shoved up your shirt and flung it across the room. He roughly pushed open your bra to attack your breasts. He nipped and bit at your skin, surely leaving marks all over your flesh.

“Bruce,” you breathed as he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. Your back arched and you held his head in one hand. He moved over to do the same to the other side. His mouth moved lower to kiss down your stomach to your hips. He pulled your pants down and nipped at the skin of your inner thigh, probably leaving a hickey. You were overwhelmed by his attack on your body.

Just as you thought you were in control of yourself, he licked a long strip up your folds and you moaned loudly. Bruce gripped your thighs to pull himself closer as he licked you thoroughly. Your hand reached and grabbed his hair. His tongue slipped inside you as his nose rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t help but make noises far louder than you usually would. He didn’t live alone.

“Fuck Bruce! There,” you whined. He hummed and continued. You yanked on his hair to keep him in a certain spot. You whimpered out his name on repeat as you came. He didn’t wait for you to come down for him to push down his own pants. He roughly thrust in without any warning. You gripped his shoulders and gasped.

Bruce was usually so gentle, like you were breakable. This was new and exciting. His hips snapped against yours roughly in a pretty quick rhythm. You felt yourself being pushed up the bed and the headboard made a banging noise.

Usually you were far more quiet. He was the father to half a dozen kids that were often home and a full time butler. Plus Bruce was a quite discreet guy anyways. That wasn’t what was happening right now. You tried to hold your sounds back to no avail as he rushed you to an orgasm. You were right on the edge when he fucking bit your shoulder.

“Fuck!” You yelped before cumming. You could feel his rhythm slip as he found his own high. Instead of pulling out like normal, he ran his hands along your body while looking you over before starting to move again.

“Actually,” he said, pulling out. “Flip over,” he said and you rolled on your stomach. He pulled your hips up just enough for him to slide his dick in. He slowly thrust before grinding against you so fucking deep. His pace was almost lazy but rough. Bruce’s body weight leaned over you and he kissed and licked the back of your neck and shoulders. He let out deep grunts on thrusts.

There was a knock at the door that Bruce completely ignored and kept his pace. You weren’t too concerned either. The knocking became more insistent.

“Master Bruce, I have the antidote you both need. Urgently. I will set the tray by the door. Please take them,” Alfred said before moving on.

Bruce didn’t respond but sped up, leaving nips and bites along your shoulder and back. You felt yourself close again and urged him on by reaching back to pull him hip closer. You moaned and he growled as you both finished. Before you could move, Bruce pulled out and moved to the door. He quickly grabbed the tray and downed one grey vial before sitting it on the end table.

His hands went directly between your legs where you continued laying on your stomach to finger you. Bruce grabbed the vial with the other hand and poured it in your mouth. He continued his fingers in your over sensitive core until you clenched around him crying out as you came again. He slowed his fingers before pulling out.

You laid on the bed feeling just about boneless. He sat on the edge of the bed panting before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked. Was he really leaving after all that?

“I’ve got to help Alfred,” he answered. “All the boys got dosed. They’ll need antidotes too. I wasn’t... I wasn’t too rough was I?” He asked looking you over guiltily. He noticed the beginnings of hickeys on your neck and shoulder but nothing more.

“No. That was great actually,” you admitted. He raised an eyebrow. You flushed and smiled shyly. “A little rougher than usual isn’t a bad thing.”

He sat silently for a second before his lips formed a tiny smirk. “I’ll remember that next time.”

Bruce went down to the bat cave feeling half past dead. Nothing new for him but for a little different reason. Alfred was working on something.

“Thank you,” Bruce said clearing his throat.

“No. You can go back upstairs. All of the boys and their partners have recieved cures. Though... you might want to talk to Master Timothy in the morning. He was at Wayne Enterprise,” Alfred said, always delicate.

“Oh god. What did he do?” Bruce asked pinching his eyebrow.

“Nothing that can’t wait until the morning. As far as I know, nothing worth a lawsuit or worse. Go back to Y/n, Bruce. She probably feels quite slighted after your affair,” Alfred said going back to his work. “I’m cleaning up and then off to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

Bruce didn’t bother answering but leapt upstairs quickly. Alfred was right. You were probably upset he left. He burst in the room and you jumped from by the shower door.

“What’s wrong,” you asked, bracing for the worse.

“Nothing. Sorry. Do you want to share?” He asked.

“Of course Bruce. Come on,” you said rolling your eyes. You turned on the hot water and you both climbed in. Bruce looked over your body as the water soothed your skin. Little marks littered your chest and back. He frowned as he took in red bite marks on your back. What had he done?

“I’m sorry,” he said tracing his fingers across your skin. “I was far too rough.”

“It was the pollen. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” you said turning in his arms to look up at him. You gently kissed his lips before pulling back. You grabbed the shampoo and Bruce scrubbed the soap in your hair.

“Tomorrow we will deal with this. Tonight, we’re going to sleep,” you said and he hummed in agreement. He was a step about dead on his feet and when his head hit the pillow and he wrapped you in a cuddle, Bruce was asleep. You quickly followed.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either… 

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon… 

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash. 

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops. 

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

[mandoalorian]

Aphrodite’s Stone [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT *sex pollen*

Summary: Your boss, Maxwell Lord, tasks you to acquire an important gemstone from the Smithsonian museum's annual gala, not realising the powers that it possesses and how it can possibly affect you when an accident occurs.

Rating: 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, automatic dub-con due to the nature of it being a sex pollen), female recieving oral, thigh riding, fingering, creampie, boss x employee relationship, mutual pining. No spoilers for WW84 but some slight references and mentions of canon type mythology/lore. Oh, and there's actually plot!!

Author's note: Feels like all I ever do is write for Max Lord hehe. This is my first ever sex pollen so I hope it’s okay! I tried to make it as canon-typical as I could and I’m actually really happy with the outcome. Also I haven’t written mutual pining in so long so this has been really fun!

Masterlist

"Did you get the stone?" you whispered, waltzing over to Maxwell who had been schmoozing with a few of the gala guests. He stiffened up when he heard the sweetness of your voice. Your presence always took his breath away. He cleared his throat and placed his half empty champagne glass on one of the silver trays that were getting passed around.

"No, not yet," Maxwell admitted and you sighed. "I've tried swindling the geology department but they won't budge."

"Can't imagine why," you rolled your eyes sarcastically, referencing the time earlier in the year when Max had stolen a very specific citrine stone from the Smithsonian Museum. Of course their trust in him would've been altered. Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at your brief comment and you raised your hands defensively. "Sorry sir." you looked down nervously and he nodded his head, choosing to dismiss what you'd said.

"This is where you come in," Maxwell said, clicking his tongue. Your eyes met his again with curiosity. He took your hand, carefully dragging you to a quiet corner of the party. "You can get the stone."

"Me?" you asked almost rhetorically, your eyes turning comically wide. You were his assistant. He trusted you with menial tasks such as making coffee, handing over paperwork and grabbing his mail— not acquiring some ancient artifact from a different continent.

"You can do it!" he grinned enthusiastically. You were beginning to think he was putting on his charming and persuasive television voice and you furrowed your eyebrows together unimpressed. "Carol Thomas over there, she's the director of the museum. You must make sure she doesn't see a thing. But that tall guy with the dark hair? That’s Ken, and he’s been watching you all night."

You blinked in bewilderment. "He has?" you tilted your head, looking at the man Max had pointed at.

Maxwell's gaze burned into your body as you watched the geology department interact with one another. Of course he has— Maxwell felt like saying. Every man at the damn gala had their eye on you. You looked remarkable, and you were too humble to have even noticed. He brushed off your question.

"Go over there and butter him up a little," Maxwell smirked as you turned back around to face your boss. "But not too much." he quickly added on to the end, feeling a little too defensive over you. "Find out where the stone is. Can you do that?"

"What does it look like?" you mumbled, not really liking the idea of having to flirt with a slimy looking man just to get some random rock thing.

"Ruby." Max snapped back like there was no question about it.

You looked back at Maxwell, a small gasp escaping your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked drunk with desire, and you realised how much he must've wanted that stone. Maxwell's eyes were a beautiful shade of honeyed brown that sparkled under the amber lights; they were beautiful. You felt your lips curve into a small smile of agreement and you felt Maxwell's large, ring clad hand rest on your shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You made the decision to get the stone, knowing how much it meant to him. You hadn't even realised that the primal, hungry look that crossed his face was actually nothing but pure lust for you.

The second you walked away, Maxwell picked up his champagne glass and finished it off with one quick swing, the bitter taste of alcohol rolling down his throat. He tried to shake off these feelings he had for you, deeming it as unprofessional. He knew from the very start that it was a mistake hiring you. The moment he saw you waiting outside his office to be interviewed, was the moment he had to have you. But of course, his own insecurity meant that he felt as though he couldn't act on these feelings. He may have been a charismatic TV personality but deep down, he had his own, personal reasons that made him feel smaller and weaker than everyone else. For who could ever love a man like him?

"Hey, Ken, is it?" you smiled, extending your arm and grabbing the man's hand. You immediately cringed, feeling the sticky nervous sweat that coated his skin. The dark haired archeologist pushed his glasses up the curve of his nose and shook your hand a little too aggressively.

"Wow," he muttered, looking you up and down before clearing his throat. "Uh, yes. Ken."

You fake smiled, hiding your disgust, tearing your hand away from his and rubbing your palm against the material of your dress in disgust. You wanted to kill Maxwell for making you do this. From the dark, shadowed corner in the ballroom, Maxwell watched you intently, a flame of envy burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I hear you have an exhibition happening?" you took a glass of your favourite alcoholic beverage that was being passed around by a waiter.

"Yes, but it's not ready yet." Ken revealed and you nodded your head understandingly.

"That's a shame," you sighed, a fake sadness dripping from your tongue. "I'm a sucker for gemstones."

"Yeah?" Ken asked as you peaked his curiosity. "What's your favourite kind?"

"Oh, I like the red ones," you joked, and to your surprise, Ken actually laughed.

"We have a whole sub-section on garnet," Ken admitted and your lips parted slightly, omitting a small ‘oh’ as he continued on. "It's beautiful."

"I'm actually more of a ruby type girl myself." you explained, wondering if you were evening making the slightest bit of sense. Even if you weren't, Max knew that you'd be able to wrap Ken around your finger from your good looks alone. And he was right.

"We have one ruby," Ken whispered, leaning into you. Maxwell scowled as he watched Ken push his body into yours. He was seconds away from intervening. Max wanted the stone, but not if some slimy gemologist was making you uncomfortable in the process. Maxwell paused dead in his tracks when he saw you gently push Ken away from you, laughing politely. Max decided he couldn't watch anymore and decided to walk away, finding a group of women to distract himself with.

"Can I see?" you shot Ken your best pleading eyes.

"I'm afraid not. I could pull a few strings with the garnet collection but the ruby is 3000 years old. It's from ancient Greece, and it's the last of its kind."

You pouted, turning your heel, about to walk away, when Ken grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I mean!" he called and you raised your eyebrow, trying to hide your winning smirk. "I suppose I could pull a few strings. It's in the gallery, you must go alone though. And don't tell anyone. And remember to look— not touch."

You grinned, leaning in and gently pecking Ken on the cheek. "Thank you." you said, feeling his cheeks heat up under your lips. You pulled away from him and spun around. You watched out for Carol Thomas, making sure she wasn't looking before you slipped out of the gala and made your way to the gallery.

You were truly in awe as you looked over all the different rocks, each different sizes and different colours but all equally as beautiful as each other. Your eye finally caught the attention of the ruby Max had sought after for so long. You were no expert on geology but this didn't seem like any normal ruby, it sparkled and glittered and stood out from all the others. It was caged in an acrylic box, but it took no effort for you to lift the box off the crystal and swipe it, pushing it into your purse. It barely fit, but you managed to make it work. Double checking that no one was around, you swiftly exited the gallery and made your way back to the main party.

Maxwell wasn't in the corner you had left him, but instead, he was talking to a group of women; flirting no doubt. You rolled your eyes as they tossed their hair and giggled as he leaned into them. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was saying to woo them. Grimacing, you stormed past the group of girls and grabbed Max's arm, tugging and pulling him away from them.

"I got the stone," you informed your boss, briefly glancing back at the girls who were scowling at you for whisking away Max. You frowned, feeling unamused.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, sounding genuienly concerned. This was so dumb— of course you were okay. You had to be okay. It was completely fine that Max was flirting with other women, it's not like he had any interest in you anyway. It's not like you owned him. He was a grown man and he could do whatever he wanted.

"Yeah." you shot back, offering him a gritted smile. Maxwell nodded his head slowly and leaned into you.

"My driver is outside waiting. Head back to my office with the stone, I'll only be right behind you." you didn't know what it was, but suddenly, your boss' voice sounded dark and... seductive. The way his breath fanned over the shell of your ear made you shiver. Without saying another word, you left the party and travelled back to your workplace.

It was no surprise that Black Gold Cooperative was deserted when you let yourself in, sliding your employee card through the terminal and squeezing through the revolving doors. It must've been almost midnight, and you were the only one in the building. You slipped behind the main desk and booted up the computer where you had access to turn on all the lights in the building so it didn't feel so sinister. As you waited for the computer to turn on (and it felt like forever), you took out the gemstone and placed it on the top of the desk. Even in the darkness, there was something so attractive about it. No wonder Maxwell was so desperate to get his hands on it. He had an affinity for geology, although it was almost secretive. You remembered the one time he invited you over to his house, he had a whole shelf that was proudly displayed with rocks and minerals. It was a hobby of his that he didn't share with anyone else. But he trusted you.

He definitely shouldn't have trusted you.

You left your purse on the main desk as the lights finally illuminated the building. Holding the ruby in both of your hands, you carried it up the stairs, through the call centre and into Maxwell Lord's extensive sized office. You admired the way it sparkled and shone under the bright lights, so much so, you weren't watching your step. You let out a yelp as you tripped over a chair which had been carelessly pulled out, falling to your knees as the stone went flying across the office, landing near his desk.

You felt your heart sink into the depths of your chest when you heard it smash. No— there was no way. Gemstones don't just smash like that. Terrified, you crawled over to where the stone had landed and saw that it had quite literally smashed into smithereens; almost like glass. At least, that's how it sounded. The crystalized rock had turned into some kind of sparkling red fairy dust that looked almost magical. It was like a shimmering illusion. You scurried around the floor wondering how the hell this had happened. How the rock had smashed and turned into a pile of glitter. You knew you wouldn't have long until Max came back.

Your legs began to feel weak, but you decided it was just from your anxiety. Shit, the rock meant so much to Max. He gave you one job. One easy fucking job and you couldn't even do that right. You were so fired.

You began to collect the sparkling red dust in your hands, desperately scooping it up but sighing when it fell through your fingers. Your actions became more erratic, knowing your boss would be back any second. No matter what, you couldn't pick up the dust. You looked around his office, wondering if he had a brush or something to shovel it up with, but of course he didn't.

There was something weird… the dust from the gemstone wasn't just glittering, it was quite literally sparkling— gleaming, even. When you touched it, it made your skin tingle. It sent aches of heat flooding down your body. It was enough to make you suspicious but once again, you shrugged it off as nerves. You cared about Max so much, and he was going to be so pissed with you.

When you heard the double doors to his office swing open, your whole body stiffened up, your eyes squeezing shut. You were on your knees still, your back faced away from Maxwell as he merrily came waltzing into his office.

"I called Roman Antiquities from the carphone," he announced, his voice as vibrant as ever. "They're so happy we managed to get the stone," You felt your eyes grow comically wide. Wait— the stone wasn't even for him. It was for somebody else. Things just went from bad to worse. "So," Maxwell slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. "Where is it?"

You slowly rose to your feet, scrunching your nose up in displeasure as you prepared to tell your boss what had happened. How you had been so clumsy. "I- I didn't realise you were sending the stone to Roman Antiquities." you mumbled, slowly turning around and nervously biting your lip.

"I didn't mention it?" Max shrugged casually. "Yeah, apparently it's in high demand."

"Ken said it comes from ancient Greece, and there's only one made," hearing the words leave your lips didn't make the situation any better, you realised. "Do you know what's so special about it?"

"Yeah," Max replied, walking towards his desk. "There's a lot of things special about it. Can I see it?" His dismissive tone made you feel small and uneasy.

"Max…" you drew his name out like it was the longest melody in the world. He looked up at you, waiting for you to continue. "Something happened. I uhm…" you let your eyes wander around his spacious office, refusing to land anywhere but him. He, however, was staring directly at you. "I had it with me. And I carried it carefully to your office but— I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings and I-" you halted suddenly, feeling your whole body heat up, and a fire shooting through your core. You squeezed your legs together and pursed your lips into a fine line, stopping a moan from escaping. What was going on?

"And?" Maxwell urged, his voice growing increasingly more concerned.

"And-" you gulped. It was a weird, strange feeling. Like suddenly, all your scents had been heightened. The smell of Maxwell's rich cologne filled the room, intoxicating you and sending you into a frenzy. "Wow." you mumbled out.

Maxwell said your name sternly, breaking you out of your strange yet blissful haze. You were used to him saying your name, usually in a condescending way. But this time it was different. It was deep, gravelly and outright delicious.

"I broke the stone," you announced with a shaky exhale. You began to feel slick between your thighs and your eyes widened. Were you… aroused? You just about managed to look back at Max and suddenly everything felt different. You saw him in a completely different light.

Sure, you'd had fantasies about your boss before. He was an attractive, single bachelor and he always made you feel special. He always made you feel important. You would sometimes daydream about him at work, watching him from the back of the conference room as he led team meetings. You'd go home after a long day only to think about him whilst you showered, and even before you went to sleep. Suddenly, your feelings made sense.

"You. Broke. The. Stone?" Maxwell gritted out. Your eyes dropped down to fixate on his Adams Apple. Had his voice always been so sensual?

"Max," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you grabbed onto the edge of his desk, your fingers curling around the corner so hard your knuckles turned white. "I don't feel so good."

Max slowly walked over to you, looking you up and down. "Where are the remnants of the rock?" Max quizzed. You let out a moan as the feeling of arousal became excruciating. He called your name again and you just about managed to point in the general direction of the pile of glittering red dust. Maxwell's eyes widened. "Oh no no." he said, hurrying over and examining it, but being extra careful not to get too close.

"I know," you cried. "I'm sorry."

"Did you-" Maxwell swallowed the lump in his throat before turning back around to face you. "Did you touch it?"

"Y-yes," you drew out, rubbing your thighs together trying to create some feeling of friction, but doing so discreetly so your boss wouldn't notice. "I tried to clean it up."

"Shit," Maxwell muttered, hurrying over to his desk and spreading out a pile of papers. The papers were filled with information about the very specific ruby stone, and Max read it closely and as quickly as possible.

"What is it?" you asked worriedly. Maxwell's eyes widened and he wrapped an arm around you, carefully navigating you behind his desk and sitting you in his chair. You curled up into the softness of the leather seat, humming in delight your dress rode up slightly and the material stuck to the back of your legs.

"There's something you should know," Maxwell frowned. "The rock… they call it Aphrodite’s Stone."

"Aphrodite?" you breathed out. "Like, the goddess of love?"

Maxwell nodded, flicking through a few more of the pages. "Yes," he confirmed. "But uh- not just love. I mean, it was love, yeah but. She was also the goddess of beauty, uh- procreation, passion and…" Maxwell took a deep breath. "Pleasure."

You made a fist so tight your fingernails pressed into your skin as you shuffled around in the chair. Maxwell was so close to you, you just wanted to pull him on top of you and take him now— exactly how he was. But no, he was going on about some Greek goddess.

"Max please," you begged and his head snapped in your direction. You didn't even realise the way your chest was rising and falling, the way you were heaving and panting. Just the sight of you alone was enough to stir something up inside of Max. Beads of sweat laced your collarbones and hairline as you whimpered and moaned. "Can you just- please- tell me- what’s going on? What's happening to me?"

"The stone contains a kind of sex pollen," Max blurted out and your eyes snapped open.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked and Max shook his head quickly. "Like- a drug?"

"Yeah… and you touched it. Shit okay, let me go grab a bowl of water and we’ll try and clean the remnants from your hands…" Max said quickly, biting his lip and bolting over to leave his office when you shouted for him to come back.

"N-no, it won't work," you whispered, holding your arms out and ushering for him to come back over to you. "Please, please Max…" Your hands travelled to the hem of your dress as you started to peel it up. Max watched with intent, his once honeyed brown eyes turning so dark— almost black. His eyes raked your body as he watched you squirm in his office chair. The same chair he sat in every single day. "Please help me take this dress off. I feel so constricted."

"I-" Maxwell began but stopped when you sighed dramatically, tossing your head back.

"Don't fucking argue," you groaned and Maxwell felt taken aback by your attitude. You had never spoken to him like that before. He'd hate to admit it, but the desperation that dripped from your tongue caused Max's cock to throb in his pants. "Please."

Maxwell took your hand and pulled you up from his chair, briefly noting the wet patch from where you had been sitting. He had to sit back in that chair tomorrow morning, and you had made such a beautiful mess of it. His large hands manouvered around your body as he turned you around, finding the zip to your dress and pulling it all the way down to the small of your back. He took a step back as you shuffled out of it and he politely looked away, not wanting to invade your privacy or make you feel uncomfortable. He took off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to you, in case you felt the need to cover up, but instead you just glared at him.

Maxwell found himself subconsciously licking his lips as his heart rate climbed at the mere sight of you. There you were, standing before him in nothing but lacy black lingerie. He felt his cock grow thick and stand at full attention as he took in the sight of your alluring body. It was perfect in every way, even better than he had ever imagined in his dreams.

"What do you need?" Maxwell asked, his voice low. "What can I do for you?" The pollen in the stone made everything sound so seductive but you could swear that even amongst all the heat, you heard genuine care in his voice.

"I don't… I don't…" you weren't about to tell him that you didn't know, because that would be a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, and he knew enough about the stone to know exactly what you wanted as well. You needed him, craved his body and ached for him to fill you up and pleasure you. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to find the pride to actually ask your boss for this. Maxwell took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He smelt so good.

"Anything you want," he whispered, wanting you to know that he'd be more than willing to help ease you. "Anything you want you can have it."

"Anything?" you asked, pressing your hands to his chest and letting your fingers trace the soft material of his dress shirt.

"Anything." he affirmed.

With that, you grabbed the straps of his suspenders and pulled his body into yours. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat as you pressed your lips against his. You wrapped your arms around his body, your palms laying flat against his back as he kissed you. His tongue licked your lower lip and you moaned wantonly, opening your mouth slightly and granting him access to explore you further.

Max's hands settled on your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. You moaned, dragging your own hands to his hair and running his fingers through it.

You loved his hair, you always thought about touching it and playing with it. He always styled it so perfectly but, to your surprise, it wasn't hard with hair-product. Instead, it was soft and glossy and it was like you could feel every wave. He eventually pulled off you, gasping for breath.

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're like this," Maxwell frowned, as you pushed him into his office chair. "I mean, shit. I want this. I've wanted this for so long…" he rambled on as you slid out of your panties and unclipped your bra. His eyes widened when he saw you stand on his office, completely nude and shameless. He thought you looked breathtaking. You were quick to discard the garments, unable to hide the triumphant smirk that played across your lips as you straddled him. You perched yourself on top of his leg and instantly began to ride his thigh, rubbing your soaking wet pussy over his expensive pants.

"Let me," you moaned, leaning into him and kissing his neck. "Let me use you then."

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked shakily and he felt you nod into his shoulder as you gasped out another moan. "Okay. Take what you need." he said before wrapping his arms around you and dipping his fingers into the small of your back. You could feel the coolness of his gold rings tingle against your warm skin and it only turned you on even more. You couldn't count the amount of times you had imagined the ridged feeling of his rings press up against your walls as he slid his fingers inside of you. Max flexed the muscles in his thigh and you yelped slightly at the friction. "Oh, you like that?" Maxwell asked, and done it again before you could even respond. You tugged on his tie, fumbling as you slid up and down over his leg. You just about managed to loosen it, pull it off, and discarding it on the floor amongst your other pieces of clothing.

"I like these," you giggled, tugging on his suspenders. "But I want them off."

"Cum for me first," Maxwell growled, feeling his hard member press against the confines of his pants. They'd grown extremely tight around his now throbbing erection. You looked down and gasped just at the sight of him. You lowered one hand, while keeping the other hand draped around his body, keeping you steady. With your free hand, you traced the imprint of his cock and smiled when you watched his eyes flutter shut from only your gentlest of touches.

"You weren't even affected by the stone," you giggled, humming in delight as you reached for his zipper. You didn't stop sliding your slick pussy over his thigh, your movements building up your oncoming high. "And look at you." you wiggled your fingers into his pants and your eyes widened as you felt his cock. "Fuck… Max Lord going commando?" your laugh came to an abrupt end when Max's grip around you tightened. He took your hand away from his manhood and set it on his bicep as he held you by your hips and muttered dirty words into your ear.

"Cum for me." He gritted out again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling at your skin. He pulls his hands down to your breasts and squeezes at them, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"So close," you warned him as your walls began to contract against nothing. You ached for his cock, now more than ever. Still massaging your breasts, he reattached his lips to your neck and trailed sloppy kisses all the way down your collarbone. "Shit Max, fuck I cant," you gasped.

"Can't what? What is it baby?" Max asked, pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek with his hand.

"I can't cum without… without…" tears pricked your eyes as the gushing sense of sexual desire coarsed through your body.

"What do you need?" Max whispered.

"You. Inside me," you managed to stammer out with absolutely no shame. Max looked absolutely wrecked, his dark blonde hair that was once perfectly styled had completely fallen out of place and his chocolate brown eyes were glazed with lust. But he was gorgeous and you couldn't help but smile knowing what exactly you had done to the esteemed Maxwell Lord. You shuffled back slightly, and Max glanced down at the wet patch you had left on his pants. He couldn't contain his grin.

"I don't have a condom," Max admitted. The revelation surprised you as you pegged Max for the kinda guy who endured a lot of sex in his office. It seemed like the perfect place, but come to think of it, he never really had girls around. Only you. You didn't care that he didn't have a condom. In fact, you kinda liked it. You wanted to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as it filled your pussy.

"Good," you smiled, standing up with a wobble. Max stood up after you and cleared his desk before patting the expensive oak wood, ushering you to lay down.

But first, you pulled down his suspenders, unclipping them from his pants and throwing them to one side. You worked at his shirt buttons one by one until eventually, you pulled it off and dropped it to the ground. You wasted no time, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his ankles. You licked your lips in delight as his cock sprung free and he stepped out of the pants that had pooled around his feet.

Max gently pushed you backwards into his desk and you hopped up, sitting down and laying back. "You're so beautiful," Max sighed as he drank in your appearance, wanting to savour this moment and remember it forever. "Open your legs." he commanded as he stroked his cock. He gathered his precum which had been leaking from the tip for God knows how long, letting it slick between his fingers as he jerked himself off at the mere sight of you spread out on his office desk. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyes as you prepared to feel his cock push inside of you.

But instead, you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe up your clit. Your whole body stiffened up as you released a groan you didn't even know you were holding back. "Fuck- what the fuck," you curled your fingers into a fist as he continued to cat lick you. You just about managed to open your eyes and see the vision of his head in between your legs as he devoured your dripping pussy. "You're really dragging this out, huh?"

He was good. He was so good. He knew his way around your body perfectly and you swore, in that moment, that perhaps you were made for each other. Maybe it was just the effects of the stone but you had never had such a satisfying sexual encounter.

"When I saw the mess you made on my leg, and how wet you were, I knew I had to taste you," Max admitted, his voice was gruff and sent vibrations through your core. He continued lapping you up, humming and moaning in delight on the occasion he'd suck at the bud of your clit and draw out a moan from your lips. "And fuck, you taste so good."

"But I want your cock inside of meeee," you whined.

Max didn't attach his mouth from you once, but he did bring up his hand and push a finger in between your folds and began to massage the entrance to your hole.

"Gotta prep you first," Max told you, before pushing his index finger deep inside you. He moaned at the feeling of your walls around him and felt his cock twitch against his stomach. Obscene wet noises echoed through his office, as well as your moans and pleas for more. "So greedy," Maxwell chuckled. "Always wanting more," he pushed in his middle finger, stretching you open. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. It wasn't long until your legs began to quiver and shake profusely. You screamed when Maxwell pulled out his fingers and shoved them in your mouth. "Taste," he told you as you sucked on his fingers. "Good girl. See? You taste so fucking good. I could get used to this."

When you had cleaned your juices from his fingers, you felt him line himself up against your entrance. You reached out, holding onto his strong biceps for support as he thrusted inside of you. He grunted, squeezing his eyes tight shut as your walls tightened around you. He was big— bigger than you'd ever taken before. If you weren't so aroused from the stone, you wouldn't know if you'd be able to take him. He filled you perfectly. He pushed himself balls deep into you and then came to a halt.

"M-move," you whimpered, pressing your nails into his skin.

"Beg." he shot back, smoothing the hair out of your face and running his thumb over your puckered and sore lower lip.

"Please Max, please. Fuck me." you felt tears prick your eyes and Maxwell took the hint, finally thrusting in and out of you. Your cunt was so tight around Maxwell he couldn't believe how perfect of a fit you were. He dragged his thumb to your clit and started rubbing intricate circles as he increased his speed. His movements became sloppy and rapid as his fingers pushed you over the edge. "Cum inside of me," you gasped out the second you felt his cock twitch inside of you, indicating that he was close.

"Are you sure?" Max asked and you nodded your head.

"Never been so sure about anything in my life." you screamed, your back arching as you finally came undone. You absolutely drench him, and if it was any other situation, you might've felt a little embarrassed. But Max was in ecstasy when your cunt tightened around his cock like a vice and milked him of all that he had. He spilt his seed inside of you, the warmth coating your walls and shooting jolts of pleasure down your body.

You found yourself completely engulfed in a post coital haze, and Max kept himself inside of you until he softened and could slip out of you without causing you any discomfort. "You might be sore tomorrow," he mumbled, pressing a kiss into your neck. You hummed, whispering something incoherent but your smile was very telling. You had never been so happy. "But the effects of Aphrodite's Stone should wear off now."

"You took care of me," you whispered, your eyes slowly opening. You sat up and wrapped your arms around Max, pulling him into you. You felt completely and utterly spent, and Maxwell couldn't disagree either. He walked you over to his chair and sat you in his lap.

"Of course I took care of you," his voice was gentle and sweet like honey. "This was all my fault. And I should've warned you about the stupid fucking rock in the first place."

"Stupid?" you raised an eyebrow. "That was the most fun I've ever had," you laughed and Maxwell couldn't contain how happy your revelation made him. "But… are we going to be in trouble?"

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Maxwell hushed you, smoothing out your hair and pressing a kiss into your hair. Something in his voice made you trust him and believe in him. You just knew he wouldn't let you get into trouble. "I'm glad this happened."

"Me too." you whispered before closing your eyes and burying your head into his chest. Curled up into his lap, your naked bodies tangled together, you both fell asleep in his office chair. Maxwell Lord created a frightening and intimidating aura, but, the truth is, you had never felt more safe and more comfortable in your whole entire life. You knew that this happy accident was going to be the start of something great.

Taglists (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love

This fic: @lostcherryinwonderland @thewayofthemandalorian

[veryreallyfuckinbad]

FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 3

His words hit you like a truck, one going full speed at that. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to process and understand what he meant. Your dizziness didn’t help you put the pieces together. What did he mean he recognized Jake? Was he watching you? You were sure you looked like a complete idiot, but that didn’t matter. ‘Better be careful than be dead’, after all. You tensed and grabbed Jake, pulling him closer to you defensively, glaring at the man in front of you. He must have noticed your confusion because he decided to speak up, albeit with a sigh.

“Remember the bag?”

Then it hit you. This was the stranger that left the gifts for you and Jake. Why would he do that? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man to help someone who he doesn’t know. Resources were few and far between, the nearest stores were looted and scavenged long ago, and those that weren’t were overrun.

“Was it from you?” You shifted slightly, sitting up properly.

“Yeah” he said lowly, his eyes not leaving you. He didn’t trust you, and he had every reason not to. A few seconds passed before he spoke again, “Found ya in the woods when I was looking for a lost lil’ girl. Ya seen one?” He spoke matter of factly, as if watching a girl from the shadows was a completely normal thing to do.

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry“ As soon as the words left your mouth, the man’s gaze hardened. He looked at the floor and back up at you, as if afraid that you would spring up and attack him in the few seconds he wasn’t looking at you. You looked into his eyes, squinting a little as you did so. You saw sadness, disappointment and guilt. His eyes were the only expressive part of this man- his body language was unreadable. Suddenly, you felt a pang of guilt hit you, it felt like a slap in the face. He probably only helped you because he hoped you’d have known something about the missing kid. Before you could think, you opened your mouth and spoke.

“I haven’t seen any kids around but…” you trailed off, once again petting Jake and catching the man’s attention “Jake here is quite the tracker” you smiled warmly at him, all of your defensiveness and fear washing away. A group so dedicated to finding a lost child couldn’t hurt you. Somehow, you felt they were good people, even after only meeting one of them.

But the man didn’t say anything, only looking at you with a mix of worry and confusion. You took it as a sign, one that told you that they neither wanted nor needed your help.

“Sorry” you sighed, “I should get going. Thank you for saving my life” you offered him your best smile and politely bowed your head.

Before you could stand up, the door suddenly open and three more people coming in. Two men and one girl. One of the men was clearly older, with white hair, wearing a white button up shirt with suspenders. The other man was younger, but still older than you. He was wearing a sheriffs outfit, you had to bite your tongue as not to yell out a “yeehaw!”. The girl was pretty- with short hair and an olive green tank top. They looked kind, but intimidating. The man who you graciously dubbed ‘cowboy dude’ in your mind walked up to you with a small smile.

“Don’t go yet.” He smiled softly, “I’m Rick, this is Hershel” he gestured over to the older man “and this is Maggie” he added, pointing to the girl. “You remember how you got here?”

You looked over at the man whose name you still didn’t know, as if wordlessly asking whether you should respond or not. Of course, he didn’t understand and simply stared back. You looked at Rick again, deciding to respond.

“Uh… All I remember is old cabin, walker, glass, ouch” you said with a sheepish smile, not really remembering much other than that. There were some flashes of you wandering through the woods aimlessly but you didn’t think you needed to add that.

Maggie chuckled a bit at your simple response, causing you to give her an apologetic grin. Hershel walked closer, almost touching the bed you were laying on with his knees.

“I’m a doctor. I just need to check up on your thigh; your back is mostly okay, although you needed a couple of the wounds stitched. Your thigh is a different story, you were impaled” he sighed and looked at you. His eyes were kind and warm, he reminded you of your grandfather.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it but I really don’t want to waste your stuff or time” you dipped your head and looked up at him, but he insisted.

“Listen, how about this- I’ll let Rick talk to you and then I’ll check up on you.” The man said, motioning over to Rick. You simply nodded. You were nervous. Usually when people wanted to talk to you, it was either important or you were fucke-

“Yeah. Thanks” Rick’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Hershel and Maggie made their way to the door, both of them nodding at you as they left.

Jake looked around, clearly confused. You didn’t blame him, you were the only living human he’s met so far, he didn’t know what to do or whether you were in danger or not.

“So...” Rick began and waited, taking a seat on a spare chair in the meantime. Now Rick sat on your right and the other man on your left, causing you to feel surrounded and uncomfortable. You instinctively glanced at the door, looking for potential escape routes, in case one was needed.

“(Y/N)” you finished his sentence.

“Right, (Y/N).” He stuck out his hand and smiled warmly. Before you could extend your arm to shake his hand, Jake snarled and snapped his teeth at Rick. Letting out a small gasp, you touched Jake gently but it didn’t calm him down. He was protecting you from this stranger and while you were grateful to Jake for defending you, you began apologizing to Rick. He let out a small chuckle and retracted his hand.

“It’s okay, really” he assured, “We got used to it, when you passed out and Daryl had to carry you to the house, he almost killed us all. Little guy clearly doesn’t like us touching you. When Hershel was patching you up he kinda calmed down but as soon as someone else tried to touch you, they almost got their hand bitten off” he chuckled, his body less tense than it was before.

“Yeah, he’s smart.” You let out a quiet laugh and continued “I suppose he knew Hershel was trying to help” Rick nodded, “But still, I’m sorry.” You ruffled Jake’s fur, the fox arching his body up into your hand. Rick cleared his throat and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. You took note of the fact that the man, Daryl, as Rick called him, still didn’t say anything.

“Daryl found you when we were looking for a lost girl, Sophia. He said you spared your last resources on this fox so he brought you some of ours. Said you got really pissed when he snapped a twig” he laughed under his breath, licking his teeth.

You looked at Daryl and smirked, catching him off guard. You apologized quickly and he mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out. You still wanted to help find the girl but didn’t want to impose yourself.

“I already told Daryl that my friend here is a great tracker, we could help look for the girl- Sophia” you corrected yourself and met Rick’s eyes. “I can also give you my map and show you where I was and be on my way, if you would prefer that” you added. You really didn’t want to go. The group looked really well stocked, they were kind and seemed trustworthy. This seemed like a perfect place to stay.

“Rick” Daryl finally spoke up, “Seen ‘er fight. She’s good. Helped a wild animal too” He added the last part quietly, as if afraid of saying something wrong. You figured Daryl wasn’t really a talker, hardly speaking in full sentences. You glanced up at him with nothing but gratitude and didn’t miss the tiniest, almost unnoticeable smile pulling at the corners of his lips. They looked at each other, as if having a wordless conversation that only they could hear. Jake looked at Daryl, then Rick, trying to figure out what was happening. You did the same. The sight was quite comical, you both looked like confused puppies. Finally, Rick nodded and Daryl relaxed in his chair a little.

“Would you like to join us?”

Your eyes glistened, you couldn’t believe it. You were on your own for so long, always having to look over your shoulder, having no one to look out for you. You became quite good at surviving on your own but having a group again was a dream come true. Unable to speak, you just nodded your head and grinned at the man in front of you.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughed and extracted his hand, about to put it on your shoulder. Before Jake could snap at him, you placed your hand on his head, telling him that it was okay, that he wasn’t going to hurt either of you. The animal seemed to understand as all he did was look at Rick cautiously, never letting the man out of his sight. Rick placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled at you, then at Jake.

“Welcome” he whispered gently. You felt your eyes water a bit, it still felt unreal. Sniffling, you put your hand over the one Rick had on your shoulder.

“Before you can go out to meet everyone, I need Hershel to see if you’re in any condition to walk around, alright?” he asked, his eyes warm. You looked at Daryl, your big smile never leaving your face.

“Of course!” you exclaimed, louder than you wanted “Thank you so, so much”

Hershel deemed you fit to go out, and while you didn’t want to leave the comfort of the soft bed, you would dearly miss it, you knew you couldn’t overstay your welcome. Daryl was by your side the whole time, when Hershel left he offered you a hand and helped you up, not without a growl from Jake.

When you stepped out of the house the sky was already dark. Stars glowed above the beautiful farmhouse- it looked like something out of a dream. The moonlight lit the entire farm, it shone above the old mansion, a barn, the big, tranquil fields.

You noticed tents were set up on the grass, some distance between them and the house. You heard the chatter of people- a sound you didn’t know you missed. People were sitting around a campfire, their smiling faces illuminated by the flames.

You walked up to them, Jake and Daryl by your side. You suddenly felt nervous and a little self-conscious, wanting to make the best possible impression on your new friends. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. Daryl quickly stopped and walked up to you with a confused expression on his face, his icy blue eyes piercing through yours.

“I never introduced myself to you” you smiled and extended your hand “I’m (Y/N)”

Daryl looked at you, puzzled. He tried to understand, he already knew your name. Still, he decided to play along.

“Daryl” he said, giving you another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile

After you were done introducing yourself to the man, you kept walking to the group, not waiting for him to follow. He watched you, still puzzled. He already couldn’t figure you out.

The people around the campfire turned to look at you, most of them smiling, some looking at Jake with curiosity in their eyes.

“Well hello there!” a woman chirped, she had long dark hair and wore a plaid shirt. She stood up to take a closer look and shake your hand. Jake puffed his fur up and growled but stood back when you signaled him that it’s okay. “I’m Lori. I’m guessing you’re (Y/N)?” she grinned. When you cheerfully confirmed, she spoke again, “Rick told us. Come on, take a seat”

Daryl sat on the grass next to an empty seat which you presumed was for you. You motioned for Daryl to sit on the chair while you flopped down on the grass so Jake could lay his head on your lap. Daryl didn’t sit on the chair you offered him, he just shook his head and stayed put. You looked at the people around you. After they all introduced themselves, you took mental notes of their names- T-Dog, Dale, Carl, Carol, Shane, Andrea, Beth and Glenn.

“So? Tell us about yourself! Don’t keep us waiting, we have a little bet going on” Glenn shouted excitedly, causing you to perk up and smile at him.

“What’s the bet, and more importantly, what are the stakes?” you caused the group to burst out into laughter, even Daryl. Even though his laugh was quiet, as if he was trying to suppress it, afraid of anybody hearing it.

“Dale thinks you were a zookeeper,” he motioned towards Jake “but I think you tamed him by random chance”

You chuckled, “First of all, I didn’t ‘tame him’. He’s still wild, he just loves me, and I love him. He’s more of a companion than a pet.” You explained, earning nods from the group. “Second of all, nope, not a zookeeper.” You smiled as Dale groaned, digging around his pocket and pulling out a package of dried jerky and placing it in Glenn’s outstretched hand. Jake’s ears perked up, you smiled as his head jolted up.

“He’s a fan of those” you ruffled his fur affectionately. You looked over at Daryl and added “Not as good as your squirrel, though” you gave him your warmest smile. He stiffened a bit, clearly caught off guard but to your surprise, he didn’t brush you off.

“My squirrel’s the fuckin’ best”

You gave him a toothy smile, he gave you a small smirk in response.

“Anyway, I really wasn’t much before all this started. I went to art school, worked in fast food, the usual stuff you’d expect from someone” you said, your tone was matter of fact. You heard Daryl mumble something unintelligible. He really needed to work on speaking clearly, you thought with a smile.

“Woah, you draw?” Carl smiled and jumped up a bit “Can you teach me?”

“Sure! I’ll even draw you guys once I find a sketchbook” you chirped and laughed when Carol, Lori, Rick, Carl and Glenn began begging you to add them to your ‘to-draw’ list. They all smiled when you reassured them you’ll make portraits of everyone that wants one.

“What’s his name? I’ve never seen a fox up this close before!” Carl said quietly, looking at Jake with pure awe in his eyes.

“That’s Jake. I wouldn’t recommend you pet him just yet though, he’s a little nervous” you grinned when you saw him nod in understanding. A while of comfortable silence and the occasional hushed conversation passed before Rick spoke to you.

“We got you a tent. Tomorrow me and Daryl can go and get your stuff from the woods” you dipped your head with gratitude and thanked him with a huge smile on your face- you missed your knife.

When the campfire died out, so did the conversations. Everyone headed back to their tents, ready to sleep. Dale decided to take watch duty, sitting in a chair on top of his RV, a shotgun in hand. Your tent was close to the others, near Andrea’s. You were about to sit down in the small, grey, one-person tent but you noticed something. Jake was growling and pacing around the entrance, clearly uncomfortable with all the new people around while you both sleep. You sighed and walked out of the tent.

“I get it. Let’s move a little” you said and smiled at the fox. He panted and licked his nose in response, running over to a spot further away. Deciding that he can pick the place to set up your tent, you dragged it over to him. Before you set it down, you saw one stray tent, far away from the others. You immediately knew who it belonged to when you saw another, smaller campfire and some tripwire surrounding it and a man sitting on a log, looking at the flames. Daryl.

Hoping he wouldn’t mind, you dragged your tent near his. He looked up at you, tense but relaxed immediately as soon as he saw it was just you.

“Uh… Could we set up here? Jake really doesn’t want to be near the group for now, he needs time to adjust. He’s kinda like you that way” you blurted out, trying to explain your reasoning, the last part coming out of nowhere and surprising you, “he picked the spot”

“Do I got a choice?” his voice was low but his words carried no weight- he almost smiled, but you didn’t notice this time.

You smirked, “Nope!”

[deans-baby-momma]

Past Haunts- A Revisit

A/N: Let’s take a look inside the Winchester/Quentin household and see how everyone is getting along. Also look for the 2nd author’s note after this story. 

It's been six months today. Six months since my daughter and I were getting ready for work and school when a simple knock on the front door changed everything. Changed it all, for the better.

To be able to watch from the sidelines as Whitney got to finally know the man who was her father; to finally experience having a male figure in her life was indescribable. 

Those two were like two peas in a pod, though. Similar likes, the same dislikes, an identical warped sense of humor. Once Dean had gotten over- no, that isn't the right wording-since Dean had come to terms with Sam being locked in a cage in Hell, he had jumped right into being a parent, a daddy. And he was killing it!

I hadn't expected to find him in the kitchen every morning, cooking breakfast for us before sending us both off with a kiss and I definitely never dreamed of coming home to a clean house, mowed lawn and that pesky back porch light repaired but during the first whole week of loving with us,  Dean had picked up the slack. I was amazed and very grateful.

Dean and I have slept in the same bed every night since his return but have yet to put a label on what we are. Although, Whitney happily tells anyone and everyone that her parents are together, I'm just unsure. And yes, we've had sex but then again what woman in her right mind could look at him, cuddle up to him and NOT want to have sex with him?

He had gotten a job at a local garage after the first month of being 'home' and had quickly impressed the boss with his knowledge of older vehicles. It seemed as though the mechanics nowadays depended on the little computers installed in the newer models to alert them to whatever was wrong, so when older vehicles came across their rack, these young boys were stumped.

During the week after Thanksgiving, the city of Fairfax Indiana got its first snowfall. Everything looked so clean and fresh with the white blanket covering all the blemishes and eyesores around town. And that's the day we found out Dean Winchester doesn't like the cold.

"It's just-" Dean grumbled as he drank his coffee at the head of the table. "-so ridiculous. You have to wear extra layers, watch out for other idiots on the road. Watch where you step. And it's just so cold." He finishes his groaning with a full body shiver.

"Dad you sound like a whiny brat," Whitney banters as she eats her eggs and bacon. "It's wonderful! Everything looks so bright and shiny."

"I need sun and warmth, missy," Dean shoots back with a wink. He suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. "Babe, how many days of school until our little girl is on holiday?"

Whitney hmphs at being called a little girl, even though she knows Dean only does it to get a rise out of her. The smirk on his face tells me that is exactly the response he expected.

"Uh, nine. I think."

"Eight and a half," Whitney corrects me, standing up to take her plate to the sink. "And the half day is going to be mostly watching movies and not much else."

I look at Dean to see his mind whirling. I could tell he was trying to work something out in his head. I raise an eyebrow in question but only get a smile in response. I shake my head at his antics and stand up to go finish getting ready for work.

Christmas in Florida is distinctly opposite of Christmas in the North. For one, there is no snow for the lights to mirror. The lights are pretty but seem so dull without the reflection. And instead of coats and gloves and hats, people are in swimsuits and shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. A total 180 from what I'm used to in mid-December. I ponder the difference between the two as I lounge on the long beach chair beside Dean's as we watch Whitney frolic in the cool water.

Dean hasn't fully embraced the warmer temperatures as he is still in jeans and his usually two-shirt ensemble.  The only thing missing is the heavy work boots he usually dons; his feet are bare. The sunglasses on his face does little to hide the freckles that have made an appearance the darker his skin tans. I've laid in bed recently, counting the cute little misshapen dots. He is all smiles and happy. I love him so much!

When Dean had first suggested taking a trip down south for Christmas break I was astonished, Whitney was ecstatic. In her 13 year existence, this is the first full-fledged vacation we have ever taken so she was excited and enthusiastic about the chance to take a trip. And when she found out the destination, I didn't think she would survive the 17-hour trip without spending the whole time exploding with glee. Whitney and I spent my whole payday on a new wardrobe for the both of us, getting weird and bizarre looks from other shoppers as we tried to find t-shirts and shorts, bathing suits and sunscreen; during December in Indiana those items were few and far between. I also took a secret trip to the courthouse, getting the paperwork to officially make Whitney a Winchester. All it needs is information and signatures from both parents. I plan to surprise Dean with them Christmas morning.

So far, this vacation has been fantastic. We have spent time as a family doing little things, like walking along the beach at sunset searching for seashells, playing mini-golf, spending the day in our hotel room watching old movies and cartoons when the weather took a turn for the worse. It has been a dream come true, something I had never in a million years thought would ever happen. 

Spending time with him and our daughter in what I dubbed as the most magical place on Earth. So what if we're not at Disney World, to me this is the most fascinating time and place; a week spent with my daughter and her father, the love of my life. Life couldn't get any better than this.

I am shaken from my daydreams as I hear Dean growl and begin throwing fictitious daggers with his eyes in the direction of the pool. I turn my head to see a group of teenage boys all surrounding Whitney, who is all smiles at the attention. 

"Calm down honey," I cajole. "We knew this would eventually happen. We can't expect her to be a nun."

"Those boys are too old for her," he defends. "They see an innocent, young girl like her and there's only one thing on their mind." He goes to get up and I reach over to place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Give it a minute," I tell him. "I've taught Whitney to take care of herself."

As Dean and I sit there I keep our daughter in my peripheral, just in case one of us needs to step in. Suddenly, Whitney yells out "Jerk!" and slaps the boy who looks to be the protagonist of the crew. I smile as I watch her climb out of the pool and walk toward us. She sits at my feet and wraps her towel around her shoulders.

"You okay darlin'?" her dad asks, his eyes still trained on the gang of boys. They just don't know how many different ways Dean Winchester could murder them and make them all disappear.

"Y-yea," she answers but I can tell she's lying. "They just said some things that weren't nice."

Dean finally turned his eyes toward his daughter, the dangerous glint replaced by concern.  "Baby girl, I can go have a talk with them, if you-"

"No Dean!" she says, standing up. "I don't need my father taking up for me. I'm not a baby!" As Whitney storms out of the pool area, Dean looks at me, at a loss.

"What did I do?"

I stand up and wrap the sarong around my bikini-clad body. "Just let me go talk to her, okay?" I have an idea what is going on and I know having her dad there I'd never get Whitney to open up. I lean down and kiss him and head in the direction our daughter had stomped off.

In the room, Whitney has thrown herself across her bed and is crying into the pillow.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I ask gently because if my suspicions were true, anything could cause her to fly off the handle.

"I don't know," she whines. "I was feeling okay and then all of a sudden, it's like my energy zapped. So I was just floating in the pool, hoping the ache would go away and then those boys came up and started talking to me. And I liked it," she explains as she sits up on the bed. "But then Kyle said something about me being pure and innocent when I told them how old I was and I just lost it. And then I jumped down Dad's throat and he probably hates me now!" She begins crying again and I join her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and she places her head on my shoulder.

 "Oh baby," I console. "I think it's becoming that time. You're getting ready to start your first period."

She jerks her head up and looks at me. "Really?"

"Yea, we need to go get you some pads and Midol. You're going to start bleeding anytime."

"God, did I just ruin our first vacation?"

"No!" I claim. "You didn't ruin vacation at all, baby. Now, let's get cleaned up and run down the street to the store."

"Moooom! I can't leave the room! What if it starts before we get back?" I chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"Okay, okay." I reach over and grab my phone texting Dean to come up to the room. I roll my eyes as I remember the discussion he and I had almost 2 years ago. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be asking this of him but I can't leave my baby.

The look on his face was comical as I whispered my request. He looked terrified and afflicted at the thought of having to buy feminine products. I take screenshots of exactly what he needs to buy and send him on his way, but not before he insists that I remember promising him he would never have to do this particular task.

The rest of the vacation goes off without a hitch. Whitney does begin her first period and requests to spend the rest of our time in Florida in the hotel room, only going out to eat. Dean and I trust her enough to leave her in the room while we go out, exploring not only the beach but the little town we are in. 

Christmas morning comes and Whitney wakes us up with squeals of delight at the massive amount of presents placed under the decorated fake palm tree in our room.

Dean and I sit on the sofa, drinking coffee and enjoying the look of awe on our daughter's face as she opens her presents. Once finished, she winks at her dad and goes to her bag where she pulls a box from inside. Handing it to him, Whitney steps back as Dean slides off to the floor, getting on one knee.

My hand slaps over my mouth as he clears his throat. I have no idea what he says because my inner voice is chanting 'Oh my god! This can't be happening!' Finally my ears take over and I hear him ask, "Becks, will you marry me?" I nod through the tears and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He climbs back onto the couch and wraps his arms around me, only moving one around Whitney when she dog-piles on top of us in excitement.

None of us know though, that when we return to Indiana  the past is going to come back to haunt us, in the form of Sam Winchester back from Hell.

A/N2: Another announcement! Another story! Remember how I promised a sequel to this story? A look into the years these two spent apart? Well I began it and then life happened (along with a stroke) so I just now am finishing it up. Look for Wounded Hearts to begin in March!!! I’m excited to share it with you. I will keep those of you that were on the PH taglist unless you tell me different. Love to you all. 

@vickiq9761 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @larajadeschmidt13 @tftumblin @blacktithe7 @lilulo-12 @adoptdontshoppets @cpag7 @markofdean79 @supraveng @deanwanddamons @mogaruke @death-unbecomes-you @vicariouslythruspn @atc74 @delightfullykrispypeach​ @sea040561​

[afterhoursfic]

Please, could I get a fic where Vesemir claims the virginity of Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert. For example, it's a tradition that every year after the trials the senior witchers get to fight for the right to have a first night with the newly made witchers. Maybe it's an actual fight or maybe it's a game of gwent. Vesemir makes sure that he gets to claim his boys, before anyone else! Make it as fility as you want my friend!! Please and Thank you!

Warning: dub con

Um I may have given it feelings and I apologise, I’m happy to write something else if you want but this just kinda came out

.

He doesn't know how the tradition started and frankly, he doesn't care, it had started long before he began his training and would likely carry on after he was gone, but as it stood, every year the senior witchers who had left the Path to train the youth at Kaer Morhen would compete in a semi-drunken Gwent tournament to decide who gets to break in the boys about to set out on the Path.

More than a few times he's thought about how stupid it was that they resorted to Gwent a game of luck and chance depending on how your cards were dealt. He had long thought they should fight to see who gets bragging rights that year, but apparently Gwent was fairer and gave all of them a chance to win, which was just the weaker of the lot admitting they wouldn't stand a chance in hell in a fight each other.

Go figure he supposed, but most years he didn't care for the tournament and would purposefully lose early on and watch the rest of the evening unfold. It's not that he wasn't interested in the boys, well he wasn't for the most part, instead he only really cared for the boy he had brought to Kaer Morhen himself, deciding that it was somewhat poetic that he be the one to bring them there and then send them on their way.

Often it meant that he went years or decades without winning the tournament they set up, a mix of rarely leaving the keep to actually walk the path and claim the law of surprise mixed with the sheer amount of boys every year who wouldn't make it past the trials and challenges meant that oftentimes the boys he brought didn't make it to the end.

That was until the year Geralt was to finally leave the keep and walk the Path himself. He wasn't delusional to think the competition this year would be easy, all the senior witchers were eager to covet Geralt, him being the only witcher to survive two rounds of mutations, but he planned to fight tooth and nail to get his chance with Geralt, and protect him from some of the more sadistic tendencies of the others.

He had the advantage that most of his peers thought him an easy target for the games, and sure his Gwent deck wasn't perfect and could do with being updated, but they didn't know about the stash of special cards he kept locked away for just this occasion. It was almost comical watching the other witcher's faces as he won game after game after game until finally, he had won.

A number of them in a desperate plea to get another chance would call him a cheat, and Rennes had even flipped the table in a rage near the end, but the result was the same, he had won and that year he would be the one to take of the witchers.

There 5 boys who would be leaving that year, whilst his obvious desire had been Geralt and by extension Eskel, he couldn't shirk his duty to the other 3 boys. He didn't do anything grand or new, he simply invited the boys to his room one after the other and almost as a lesson taught them how to fuck, how to seek pleasure in someone else until they shuddered through their release and he sent them off back to their rooms.

He'd set the next night to be just for Eskel, whilst it was true he hadn't been the one to bring the boy to Kaer Morhen his similarity to Geralt was striking and he would have been a fool not to have seen how close the boys were to each other. He had been tempted to bring them both in together and let them seek comfort together whilst he took them each in turn but he had different plans for both of them, so it was he waited until he heard the knock at his door and met with the sight of Eskel shuffling nervously behind it.

The boy steps in the room without saying a word and stands there awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure what to do next, so he finally takes pity on the boy and tells him to strip.

Eskel is almost methodical in the way he disrobes folding his clothes before putting them to the side before kneeling in front of him, head bowed. The sight is enough to make him moan and he can see Eskel's face go a little red when he cards a hand through his hair and praising him for being a good boy.

He almost wants to ruin the boy then and there, but it's not what he had planned, not what Eskel deserved so instead he guides Eskel to follow him to his chair and after taking a seat makes the boy settle between his spread knees, head resting on his thigh whilst he cards his hand through soft, brown hair.

They stay like that for a moment and he can practically feel the tension bleed out of the boy with every stroke of his hand. It's when he sees Eskel struggle to keep his eyes open that he guides his soft cock to the boy's mouth, not to suck but just hold and he groans again when Eskel does it without question, tongue flicking a little at the head of his cock as if to taste him before sinking down the rest of the way and once again resting his head against his thigh.

He picked up one of the bestiary's then and chose a random page to read off of, not that he wanted Eskel to pay attention but he had lectured the boy and had hoped some familiarity would ease the last bit of tension he still held.

Sure enough, the boy was a puddle between his legs, making little moans here and there that vibrate around his cock and he's sure Eskel isn't even aware he's making them. He carries on reading for another couple of pages until putting the book down and gently tugging Eskel off of his hardening cock, telling him what a good boy he was as he helped him stand to guide him towards the bed.

Gently, he helped Eskel settle onto his front, a pillow under his head and another under his hips that gave the most delicious curve to his back and couldn't help but lean forward to taste the skin with a brief kiss to the small of his back. He's not surprised when Eskel tensed again, when he flinched at every touch and press of his mouth as he moved across the boy's body, but he persisted in his task of worshipping the body under him and soon enough Eskel is moving to meet his touch and letting out little breathless gasps with every kiss to his skin.

He lingers at Eskel's shoulders and back until the boy's mind is clouded with pleasure before slowly making his way down to his ass, pressing a kiss to each cheek before gently spreading them to drag his tongue from the boy's balls to his hole. The effect is immediate and Eskel shudders beneath him with a moan and he can't help but do it again and again.

He's done this before to whore's and partners he's found on the Path but never to one of the boys he took to bed, not even those he viewed as his, but Eskel was special, one of the few to retain his kindness and a certain openness that most lost after going through the trials. He's intent on making this as nice and sweet for Eskel as he could because he knew life on the path wouldn't be easy for him. Sure he was skilled with a sword and even more so with his signs, but it wasn't the monsters and the scars he was worried about, it would be the men and women he was supposed to protect that would hurt him the most, so he wanted to give Eskel this, something precious he can think back on with fondness before he's sent out to suffer the world's problems.

It's too easy to wring out the moans from Eskel as he first teases at the boy's rim with his tongue before pushing it inside and feel Eskel shake as he begins to fuck his tongue into him. It was when he began to press a finger alongside his tongue, just teasing at the rim at first and suddenly Eskel is coming with a shout and keeps up his ministrations until Eskel is moving away from him with a small whine at which he finally pulls away to stroke his hands down the boys back instead.

It not long after when the high of his orgasm has worn off that Eskel begins to worry, stuttering out multiple sorrys for not asking, not waiting to come, and he's quick to lean over the boy, his chest pressing him into the bed, hoping it's a comforting weight as he kisses along the nape of his neck as his hand's stroke the boy's sides, all the while telling Eskel how good he's been, how there's no punishment here and he can come whenever he wants.

It takes a little while but eventually Eskel is relaxing under him again, and kissing a path down the boy's back picks up the oil on the nightstand and slicks his fingers. He takes his time opening Eskel, having him come first on two fingers and again on four as they rub against his prostate and it's when he's begging for more, pleading into his pillow that he finally pushes his cock in on one long thrust.

Soon he's setting a slow pace, a simple roll of the hips to allow Eskel to feel him and slowly be coaxed to come at how full he feels with his cock rubbing along his prostate. He's happy to wring out orgasm after orgasm from the boy until he's a whimpering mess, overstimulated and stuck between begging to stop and gripping his hand like a vice, pleading for more.

A couple of times he hears the boy murmur Geralt's name but he doesn't complain, he can't really when he has Eskel flushed red and desperate under him as he works another orgasm out of him.

It's in the early hours of the morning when they finally finish, he came once having pulled out and stripping his cock as he kneeled over Eskel until his come painted the boy's skin and even then he pushed his cock back to continue gently fucking the boy whilst one hand began rubbing his come into the skin of his back, marking him as his, one of his pups. It's when Eskel starts whimpering, tears threatening to fall down his face that he picks up his pace and after a handful of thrusts and a hand around Eskels cock he has the boy come a final time, only a few drops of come adding to the mess underneath him, but it's the boy's cry of 'Vesemir' that finally has him come inside the boy, simply rolling his hips in small movements to ride out his pleasure until he finally pulls out.

He was prepared for this of course and grabs the cloth he'd left in the water bowl on his bedside drawer and with a quick blast of igni has it warm enough so he doesn't shock the boy as he cleans up the come staining his front and back. Eskel is virtually asleep at this point, letting him move his limbs about to clean him up before he presses a glass to the boy's lips and with his help has him finish the water and take several bites of food. Finally, he pulls Eskel out of the wet spot left under him and against his chest instead, stroking his hand through his hair until finally, the boy falls asleep.

It's just before dawn when Eskel wakes again, eyes glazed and groggy as he slowly comes back to himself and he's quick to reassure the boy before asking him if he wanted to stay with him until he was ready or if he wanted to go back to Geralt. He's not offended when he chose Geralt, sure that Eskel would get more comfort from his best friend than his mentor so he simply helps the boy stand, wraps a cloak around him, and picking up his folded clothes guides him back to his rooms.

He says nothing when he sees Eskel immediately climb into bed with Geralt, or at the way Geralt loops his arm around Eskel's waist, pulling him closer so he can bury his nose into his hair.

Later that morning when he sees Geralt sneak out of the hall at breakfast with two plates piled high with food in his hand, he doesn't stop him. Instead, he just hoped that if destiny did exist, it would be kind enough to keep the two of them together.

~~~~

It's two nights later that he summons Geralt to his room and where the other boys had all been nervous trepidation Geralt just strides in, face blank before standing in the middle of the room, hands behind his back and head held high.

It was true the boy was cocky ever since he knew he could best his peers with a sword (Except Eskel of course), a fact which had only worsened after the second trial where the boy had gotten a colder edge to him, one which made him think he was untouchable.

So it's not too much of a surprise that when he ordered Geralt to strip, he didn't move, just stood there still as if he was above it all.

"Strip, or every time I have to tell you you get 10 beatings" Even with the darker edge that always managed to scare some of the hardier witchers, still Geralt remained motionless although there was a tension in his jaw as if he was challenging his threat and he simply growled "Strip...that's 10"

Suddenly Geralt's moving and pulling off his clothes, he doesn't fully know why, the boy never backed down from a challenge that easily before but it may just the setting, the inevitability of what was going to happen in this room that had him listen, he didn't want to think too much on it.

As soon as he was naked Geralt resumed his position standing in the room and he allowed himself to take a long look at the boy, a smug smile at his mouth when he saw Geralt squirm just the smallest amount under his gaze. Having looked his fill he guided Geralt to the bed, but before he let the boy climb on, he first bent him over the edge, hand on his neck to hold him down whilst his hand palmed at the ass in front of him whilst Geralt just gave him a confused look.

"You wouldn't listen so you'll take your 10 beatings now"

"I'm sorry"

"It's not enough to say you're sorry, you have to show it as well"..."You've grown unruly wolf, you need to learn when to back down just as much as when you need to attack"

Geralt just whimpered and after another moment finally went lax under him, he gave a pleased hum, stroking his hand across the boys one last time before he pulled it back to smack him.

He could've used his full strength, he should've, but this was a lesson just as much as a punishment, one of the last he'd teach his wolf and he didn't want pain to be the only thing he remembered about it. He didn't use his full strength but he used enough strength to leave Geralt's skin red and hot where he'd hit it, the boy tense and cry out with each new hit until finally he was done, the boy's ass bright red and looked as if it was already beginning to bruise.

He stroked at the skin and when he heard the pained gasp from Geralt picked up the healing salve to rub into the abused skin and slowly he felt Geralt relax into the bedding. When he was done he ordered Geralt onto his hands and knees whilst he disrobed, but instead he saw the boy on the back, legs splayed wide, still submissive bit a contradiction to his order.

"Do you have a problem following commands wolf?"

Despite having practically whimpered whilst getting his ass beat not a minute earlier, Geralt just lay back, hands behind his head as he stretched out on the bed "No"

He snorted even as he folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at the boy "No what"

"No, sir" Geralt said it in a way to antagonize him, to mock him but he wouldn't let it get a rise out of him like it did some of the other senior witchers.

"You're a brat, been allowed to go unchecked, well that stops tonight" He got up on the bed and put his hands on the boy's waist before flipping him over and lifting his hips so his head was on the mattress and his ass in the air. When he felt Geralt tried to lift his head and get up on his hands he put a hand on his neck to keep him held down no matter how much the boy struggled to get up, to get some sort of control back.

He doesn't know why as wolf witchers most seemed to develop some sense of pack, about the order and hierarchy and Geralt was no excuse and apparently thought himself at the top, or at least higher than him, but he intended to keep the boy face down as long as was needed before he learned his lesson.

Hand still on his neck he picked up the vial of oil and through some miracle managed to open it and slick his fingers, dropping the glass to let the rest of its contents to spill onto the sheets as he pushed one of his fingers past Geralt's rim. He felt the boy freeze under him for a moment but as he began to move the digit began to struggle anew, not to get away but just to do something, to get out of his hold so he wasn't in the position of bitch posturing for a mate.

He knew he had to move fast so after stretching the boy on two fingers pulled out to slick up his cock before pressing in. Once he'd pushed into the base, both of them panting now as Geralt went lax below him.

Once he's given the boy a chance to adjust he pulls out about halfway before thrusting back in again and when all he gets is a choked off moan muffled by a pillow he begins to pound into the boy below him as if he were a bitch in heat, and he may as well have been by the way he was mewling and growling with each thrust into him, any shame at being made to submit long gone as he tried to fuck back on his cock with every thrust.

It was somewhat heady having Geralt under him, a boy with unmatched potential, practically fucking himself on his cock, with each movement getting only more eager to have his dick back in him again so it was no surprise to him that he didn't last long, Geralt letting out a guttural groan when he felt his come paint his insides but still he tried to coax every drop from him that he could, to use him to get himself over the finish line even more before he went soft, and yet the boy never strayed a hand to his own cock.

He was nowhere near done with the boy and he was silently grateful for witcher stamina as he pulled out and told Geralt to move onto his back. Geralt did so without a word and even grabbed the back of his knees to hold himself open, neck bared as he waited for the next move.

He stroked his dick at the sight, Geralt watching with eager eyes as he got hard again, and letting out a breath as if in relief when he finally sank into him again. Whilst Geralt was a lot more pliable this time around, he curled a hand around the boy's throat just to be sure, squeezing every now and then just to feel the boy shake beneath him, as he felt himself approach a second orgasm he gripped around Geralt's throat and felt his breath catch and his eyes go glazed the longer he was without air until finally, he told the boy to come, and so on the next thrust Geralt convulsed under him as he shouted out his release for the whole keep to hear, his hole clenching so tight around him that he's forced over the edge as well.

After that, he's somewhat more confident that Geralt's learned his place, at least with him, and the boy is all eager energy with the intent to prove himself, so he's more than happy to lay on his back and let Geralt ride him long into the night.

It's hard to tell exactly how long they went for, only that Geralt sure was giving his stamina a run for his money as the boy's hips just kept moving, even after Geralt came, still, he moved, simply grinding back into his lap, but he kept going until he was ready to get up on his knees and fuck himself on his cock again.

A few times when Geralt's head was thrown back, a hand on his dick whilst he had put his feet flat on the mattress to take over and fuck relentlessly into the boy, he heard him whisper Eskel's name before seeming to catch himself and stare down as if waiting for to a punishment that wouldn't come.

The only time he took serious action was when Geralt got a bit too eager, when he would try to grasp his hands and pin them above his head as if he were the one in charge. When putting a hand on Geralt's throat no longer worked he pulled the boy off of him and flipped them over so Geralt was once again ass up below him, giving a couple of lighter, teasing smacks to his now pink ass until the boy came and he let him ride him again.

They carried on like this until the light of the rising sun filtered past their curtains and with a final fuck that had Geralt on all fours with him mounted behind him the boy let out a hoarse cry that would have woken those in the keep if they'd even managed to get any sleep with Geralt's overly enthusiastic shouts and moans for more and harder and faster.

When they were done he made sure to clean him and drink a glass of water but Geralt refused to eat. As with Eskel, he gave the boy the offer to stay with him but with no surprise to him, he chose to join Eskel instead. He watched Geralt change back into his clothes and with a nod and a 'Thank you sir' he left with only the barest sign of a limp in his step.

To say that he was tired was an understatement, whilst he had worn out Geralt, the boy had worn him out as well and it almost felt like he was the one who had been fucked all night. That morning he has a slight limp as he walked to breakfast, earning a couple of pats on the back from his peers and more than a few jealous stares from his seniors and he can't help but feel smug about it.

~~~~

It another two decades before one of his boys is set to leave Kaer Morhen to walk the Path.

Lambert, a spitfire of a child who had gotten through the law of surprise through a chance encounter on a supply run for the keep. He remembered how the boy had screamed and struggled the whole journey up to the keep and cussed him and everything witcher related to this day.

There's less of them now, mages and witchers alike being lost to riots and pogroms against their kind and the secrets slowly being lost with them, but even now they keep up with tradition. There are only two other boys who made in Lambert's year, but the boy's poor attitude is enough to deter most of the senior witchers from actually wanting to win this year.

He's well aware of just what a demon Lambert could be, but despite all the vitriol the boy had aimed at him, he was still one of his and he was still intent to win. The other witchers may as well have handed him the title but he's not going to complain.

As always that first night he invites the two other boys to his chambers and has them leave relaxed and well sated. He knew Lambert would be more of a challenge, the youth well aware of the tradition but would likely try to do anything possible to get out of it thinking there was some sort of shame to be fucked, but that's not how he wants tonight to go.

Instead, he makes Lambert an offer, a fight in the courtyard for all to see. If Lambert won, then he would leave him to his devices to brag about being the only witcher in several centuries, to not be fucked by an elder, if he lost then he would be fucked as was the tradition. The boy eagerly agreed to it.

In the ring the only rule was no use of their signs, all other bets were off and at the shout of Varin, it began.

Lambert was quick to start the assault, swinging and striking his sword to force him back onto the defense as he tried to parry and block. The boy was good and he was fast, on one block of an overhead swing he could feel his hand shake at the impact, but Lambert's greatest strength was also his weakest. His emotion.

It's true the trials stripped their emotions to the bare bone but they still had moments of joy or despair in their lives, and in Lambert's case fury. He goes somewhat easy on the boy so as not to wound his pride too much, letting him keep attacking in an attempt to exploit the moment he faulted, a moment that wouldn't come. Once Lambert had his eyes set on something it was his sole focus, so on one swing when Lambert had exposed his flank he struck again and again until with one kick knocked the sword out of Lambert's hand.

Lambert of course didn't give up, he didn't want to hurt the boy of course but he still gave the odd swing he knew Lambert would be able to dodge before he threw his sword to the side in order to have a fairer fight. Entertainment over he didn't let this last long, letting out the occasional grunt when Lambert got a hit in at his side but it could have only been a couple of minutes before he had Lambert pinned below him, face in the dirt and cussing something fierce.

Through it all he gave Lambert a choice to be fucked then and there in front of everybody or to behave where they could do so behind closed doors, the boy chose the latter.

He kept a firm hand on the back of the boy's neck, as if it were a collar and chain, as they walked to his room, Lambert having long fallen silent.

When they're in the room he doesn't remove his hand as he ordered the boy to strip, and it's with minimal mumbling he does so. He pulled Lambert onto the bed and similar to what he did with Geralt held his head down on the mattress with his ass up although Lambert didn't fight nearly as much.

There moments he would push and tug just so as if testing the limits of his hold but each time he would just lay across Lambert's back, a heavy weight he couldn't move against before he stopped and allowed him to continue. He was quick but thorough in his prep, stretching the boy on the three fingers before he's pressing the head of his cock into Lambert's heat which only got tighter as he tensed at the intrusion.

He pushed forward slowly, little thrusts Lambert could get used to as he gradually eased his way in until he was fully seated. There was a tension in the boy that would probably be there most of the night, but Lambert was silent as he began to move, letting out one or two grunts when he picked up his pace and a curse when he first hit his prostate but otherwise Lambert let him work.

It was when he put a hand on Lambert's cock and stroked in time with his thrusts that had the boy coming around him, barely able to hold off his own release as he felt Lambert clench almost unbearably tight around him, but with a few deep breaths he staved off the edge and carefully pulled out.

Lambert had relaxed a little after that and so it was easier to put him on his back, the boy too dazed to realize what was going on until he had one wrist tied up to the bedpost and a leg about to be tied up as well. He tried to resist then, of course, he would, but a firm hand around his neck and a growl from deep in his throat had the boy settle down with a huff and allowed him to tie up the rest of his limbs.

It's likely Lambert thinks he intends to torture him at this point, and he does but not in the way he expects, not in the way some of the other senior witchers have threatened to do when Lambert caused nothing but chaos and havoc.

No, instead he settled himself between the boy's spread legs and pressed two fingers into his hole and simply held them there, didn't move them or touch Lambert's prostate, just waited until Lambert began to squirm against the covers, bein to try and get some sort of stimulation, a frown on his face.

"The fuck are you doing old man" In retaliation to the comment with his free hand he slapped Lambert's half hard cock, smirking as he watched it twitch at the treatment even as Lambert cried out in a mix of shock and pain.

"What the fuck" This time he flicked the head of Lambert cock and watched as Lambert hissed and let out a drawn out swear

"Watch yourself with me boy, if you want to come then you have to beg" Lambert took that as a challenge and seemed intent to keep his mouth shut and body still, but he wasn't about to give the boy an easy pass.

He slapped the boy's cock again and watched as it grew harder beneath him and slapped it again, the only other reaction from Lambert being a sharp inhale, but otherwise nothing. He changed tactic then, and instead began to tug at one of the boy's nipples whilst he lowered his head to suck the tip of his dick into his mouth, and he managed to break through that wall just a little when Lambert gave a small moan.

He kept up his ministrations until Lambert was almost sweating below him, lip between his teeth to try and keep his nonchalance whilst he slowly worked him over with deft fingers and broad strokes of his tongue. It was now probably an hour after they'd entered the room and he felt Lambert was close, felt his balls tighten and his breath quicken but he was quick to wrap strong fingers around the base of his dick to stop him from reaching his peak.

"I said beg, Lambert"

Still, the boy remained silent and so he kept up his slow torture until he knew Lambert was just on the edge before he pulled away completely, impressed when Lambert only let a small whine escape him at the loss. He waited a minute or so until the boy looked at him again and making his movements obvious started his task again of working over his body, from biting at his nipples until they were red to pressing the nail of his thumb against the leaking slit of the boy's dick.

As before, he continued his efforts until Lambert was teetering on the edge, a couple of strokes of his fist would be enough to get him to come, and again he commanded him to beg, and again he refused instead pushing him to the very edge before pulling him back from it just as abruptly.

He worked over the boy for hours, whether that was mouthing at the head of his dick or pressing half his hand into the boy's hole until he couldn't contain himself anymore, moans and cries leaving his mouth unbidden, but still, he didn't beg.

Eventually, he added a blindfold and then started to tease Lambert with the cool metal of his knife against his hot skin, dragging the point of the weapon down his body, teasing at his balls before dragging up his cock until all Lambert could do was shudder and gasp at the feel of it. He edged the boy for hours and it was a little after midnight when with a voice hoarse from shouting, Lambert finally begged.

"Vesemir, please..."

"Please what" He brushed the tips of the four fingers he had in the boy's hole against his prostate and felt him shudder as his body became more and more overwhelmed the longer he went without release.

"Fucking shit, let me come"

"You can ask nicer than that"

"You old bastard" He had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, of course even now desperate and on the edge, Lambert would still be cussing him out "Please let me come, please-"

"That's good, I was wondering how long you'd last" He chuckled as he pulled his fingers out of Lambert's hole and once again slicked his cock before pressing in, Lambert's face stuck somewhere between a scowl and bliss when he was finally pressed all the way in "See, there's no shame in asking for help"

Now Lambert just scoffed even as he tried to move his hips and get him to move despite their limited movement "Course you'd turn this into another fucking lesson"

"You'd be wise to remember it" He didn't wait for an answer then and began fucking the boy in earnest, his own pleasure had simmered under the surface for hours as he edged Lambert over and over and now that they were at the finish line they were both racing to get there.

In the end, he didn't even need to touch Lambert's cock, just fucked into him with abandon, forgetting himself for a moment and just enjoying the feeling of Lambert squeezing his cock tight as if he was trying to torture him now. Maybe he was, not that it mattered as just as soon as he began fucking the boy, Lambert began to pull at his bindings, head thrashing from side to side before coming over himself with a cry to wake the dead.

The sight of the boy's release and the tight, wet heat of his hole that began to clench around him quickly sent him over as well, riding out the aftershocks of perhaps one of the most intense orgasms of his life, not that he'd ever say that, he didn't want Lambert to hold that information over his head.

Breathing heavily he carefully pulled out and watched as his come began to leak out of Lambert's swollen rim, he went to push the small trickle of come back into his hole but at the sharp hiss and plea for no more from Lambert he stopped and instead began to untie from his bed.

Even now that he was free Lambert just lay there spread eagle and eyes dropping, which was fine by him as it made rubbing salve over the boy's wrists and ankles easier and he got no complaint when he made Lambert take a drink of water.

He was surprised when Lambert made no move to leave, his first thought would have had Lambert all but running from the room in an act to pretend this never happened. Instead, he just moved to one side of the bed to make space for him and turned away to face the wall.

He knew the boy was struggling, it was tough to be that vulnerable with someone, especially for the first time and even more so considering it was Lambert and so he just guided Lambert towards the middle of the bed and between his legs. The fact that he didn't even put up a struggle told volumes that he needed something to ground himself with and so he offered his softened dick to put in the boy's mouth.

There was about a second of hesitation before Lambert took him in his mouth and went to lay his head against his hip. Slowly he felt the boy relax against him and slowly fall to sleep and he couldn't help but card his hand through dark hair before he too fell asleep, sure that despite taking comfort now, come morning Lambert would be gone, but if that's what the boy needed he wouldn't stop him.

~~~

It's 70 years later and it's only him and his pups left. All the other long dead leaving the walls of Kaer Morhen haunted and quiet.

His boys have made their own way on the Path, made friends and allies and enemies and sought their own comfort amongst others, yet every winter they returned with heads bowed low and shoulders weary, and in their own time, they would come to him, let him look after them if only for a moment.

They were his wolves and he would die before letting anything happen to them.

[uwua3]

hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Eye for an Eye : 2

Part 1

Warnings: non/dub con sex (oral, intercourse).

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader faces an uncertain fate as she meets with Charlie.

Note: Okay, so I wrote this sequel because I felt like it. I dunno if there will be more honestly but I’m just following my gut when it comes to writing :) Thanks everyone for your patience and for reading. <3 Let me know what you think!

...

Steve left you hours later. The night had been spent in the throes of lust and even affection. He was surprisingly attentive; he held you before you left. That fact made you feel worse after his departure. When you had time to sit and think of what you had done. You couldn’t justify it with Charlie’s betrayal, but you didn’t feel entirely remorseful. It was all so confusing. You had only gone along with what he wanted and yet it had felt like what you wanted, too.

You fell asleep when the sun began to rise and woke shortly after. At least you assumed it wasn’t long as your head pounded. You were roused by the sound of the door and the stony henchman called Bucky barged in. He growled at you as you rolled over in the bed and scooped up the pink dress from where you had shed it. He bunched it up in his hands and neared the foot board.

“Come on,” He kicked the bed enough to jolt you, “He’s waiting.”

You sniffed as you sat up, keeping the bed sheet up over your chest. “Well…” You looked to the dress in his fist, “Can I get dressed?”

“No,” He huffed, “Boss’s orders.”

“You can’t be serious,” You accused and he shrugged. You narrowed your eyes and gathered the sheet around you as you stood. You wrapped yourself in the silky cotton and crossed your arms. “Well, I guess I’m ready.”

He led you wordlessly from the room. You could guess that he despised you. For your allegiance to his enemy. Or your activities with his boss. Either one, you likely deserved it.

It was chilly in New York. Even outside the heart of the city. You shimmied into the back of the car as you struggled to keep the sheet snug around you. The ride was tense; silent. You figured whatever awaited you was far from pleasant. In your situation, there wasn’t much which could be. 

Bucky opened the door and ushered you out with a wave of your hand. You walked ahead of him into the bar; empty in the early afternoon. The door of the back office was opened for you, the usual muscle just outside. You always found it quite comical how these mob bosses kept guards around them at all times. You couldn’t decide if it foretold of power or weakness. You entered as the door was shut behind you and Steve awaited you behind his desk. You were suddenly embarrassed. In nothing more than a bed sheet, you felt like a pauper.

“Was it really necessary to have me brought here like this?” You hissed.

“Come on and sit,” He said flatly. “We should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” You grumbled, “Especially if you insist on humiliating me like this.”

“Y/N,” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Charlie will be here shortly. Please.”

You froze and stared at him. You shook your head and slowly neared the chair, sitting with a cringe. You weren’t ready.

“I thought you should know what led to all this before we go any further,” He leaned back, the fabric of his button-up bracing against his muscles. “You should know what Charlie did.” Your lips parted in realization and you nodded. He continued. “There’s land in the city. Land untouched by my men and his. Well, supposed to be, until two months ago. That was sacred land; protected by a pact made when me and Charlie were throwing rocks instead of bullets.”

You could feel your heart sink. This was serious. You blinked and sat straight, your hands twined together.

“It is mutually recognized that an transports done over this land are to be undisturbed, except I guess that rule didn’t suit Charlie anymore. I had men moving a shipment who didn’t make it to their destination. Now it would be one thing if they had been travelling in Charlie’s territory, but they weren’t.” Steve’s jaw twitched and he sighed. “He didn’t just steal the haul, he killed my men and left them there...where everyone could see them.”

You shuddered and hid your face in your hand as you leaned on the arm of the chair. Charlie was such an idiot.

“You see, that right there, is more than just breaking the rules. That’s a statement. A declaration of war.” Steve’s voice was deep; deadly. “This was Charlie’s call. He knew what he was doing but we’ll see if it was worth a couple dozen kilos or not.”

“Fuck,” You sat back, your hand on your chest gripping the sheet. “Fuck, fuck.”

“He’s coming for what he thinks is a negotiation but he doesn’t have much to barter. No deal today means there’s no other way. Hallowed ground has been tainted,” Steve checked his watched before he continued, “Do you think you can help me prevent further bloodshed?”

“How?” You asked.

“Help me convince Charlie to take the deal.” He said pointedly.

“Which is?”

“His blood. Not enough to kill him, just enough to satisfy my men.” Steve explained, “He’ll keep his life at least.”

“And me?” You wondered aloud.

“Well, you’d be part of that deal. He agrees to surrender willingly and you’re free.” He smirked.

“If not?” You frowned.

He tilted his head but a knock came at the door before he could answer. 

He stood and called out that he was coming. He approached and grabbed your elbow, pulling you from the chair but not unkindly. You had no choice but to rise and precede him out the door as he released you. He nudged you to keep you ahead of him as you were led to the bar room and Charlie sat a table with two men at his shoulders. A dozen others were lined up from wall to wall behind him. Steve’s own men faced them in a similar formation.

You neared the table and Steve grabbed another chair and placed it beside that meant for him. He motioned for you to sit down first before he took his own seat. You looked at Charlie with a gulp, your face on fire as his eyes fell to the bed sheet clutched against your chest. Your eyes filled with tears and your lip trembled. His blue eyes were cold.

“I’m not here to waste anymore time,” Steve began, “So, I’ll lay out my terms and you can tell me yes or no.”

“What terms are left? You killed one of my men. You took my girl,” He spat, “Think that about evens the score.”

Steve chuckled and looked to you. “Her...no, not even close. Let’s be realistic, Charlie.”

“You can keep her. I don’t need a whore,” You stiffened and gripped the edge of the table. Your tears had turned to anger.

“Don’t lie,” You snarled, “What else would you call Gemma?” Both men looked to you. “That’s her name right?” Charlie’s eyes strayed tellingly. “Did you tell her what stupidity you were up to? Is that where you were; hiding out with her?”

“You think that makes this okay?” Charlie gestured between you and Steve.

“How much choice do you think I’ve had in this?” Your voice rose viciously, “How much choice did you give me in this, Charlie? He--” You gulped before you continued as your throat tightened, “He shot Robert in our kitchen...your kitchen. What was I supposed to do?”

Charlie scratched his chin and glanced at Steve instead. “What are your terms?”

“Simple. You give yourself up and we let her go and the rest of your men live.” Steve squared his shoulders, “Say no and it’s war.”

“If this is war, why should I care?” Charlie scoffed and your heart dropped.

“You’re an asshole,” You snapped, “I can’t believe you. You--you…” You stood as you tried to keep yourself from diving over the table. Every trigger finger in the room tensed. “You never loved me, did you?”

“I’m sure I did once,” He admitted quietly. Your head spun as if he had slapped you.

“Even that isn’t worth my life?” You challenged. “The love we once had?”

“You should’ve left me when you found out about Gemma,” He arched a brow. “War, it is.”

Charlie tapped his knuckle on the table and rose. His men and Steve’s gripped their guns and awaited a signal. Both held the ceasefire with a single gesture. Steve pushed himself from his chair and sighed deeply.

“Very well,” He uttered, “You have twenty minutes to get you and your men out of my territory. After, well, it won’t matter where you are.” Steve declared as he looked around at the anxious eyes watching him. “Hallowed ground is over. There will be no protection for you or your men. I will make sure everyone in the city knows that.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and laughed. He signalled for his men to retreat and backed away. He didn’t even look at you. He just left you there as the bar emptied and you were abandoned in the den of the enemy. You sat back in the chair and hung your head. The chair beside you creaked as Steve sat, too.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” He reached over to touch your hand.

“Oh, fuck you,” You swore as you lifted your head, “Did you have to parade me around like this?” You gripped the edge of the sheet, “You don’t care about me any more than him. You knew he’d never take the deal. You knew it when you had your gun to my head and didn’t pull the trigger.”

“I had to make a point,” He said.

“Yeah? So what now? He doesn’t want me back so why don’t you just let me go?” You asked pointedly.

“I can’t do that. Not if I want to win this war,” He reached over and forcefully took your hand despite your attempt to pull away. “People don’t know what’s going on between you. They only know that I took Charlie’s girl for my own and that’s the only thing they need to know. If I can take his woman, I can take everything he has.”

“So I’m stuck here with you?” You rasped.

“Are you?” He smirked, “You didn’t seem the miserable prisoner last night.”

You inhaled sharply and finally freed your hand from his. “What was I supposed to do? If I had told you to stop, would you have?” His blue eyes didn’t flinch as he watched you. “I have as much say in anything with you as I did with him.”

“If you had wanted me to stop, you would’ve said so,” He stood and stretched his arms, “Now, I’ve got a long day of work ahead of me. I trust you’ll keep me company though.”

“What?” You made no move to rise.

“I showed you last night, I’m not as stupid as Charlie,” He held out his hand to you, “I’m not gonna leave you alone all day. Let’s go.”

You reluctantly took his hand and let him pull you out of the chair. You stood and followed him back to his office where he deposited you on the sofa with a kiss. Despite your irritation, the feel of his lips lingered. You cursed yourself for it as you glared at him. He took his seat behind his desk and dialed his phone. You pulled your knees up and crossed your arms over them. Why had you ever gotten yourself involved in all this bullshit?

-

It was hard not to detest the man. You remained on the sofa in little more than bedding as Steve received several different visitors and made phone calls. Bucky came in from time to time as well and they went over plans; about Charlie, shipments, debts. You kept silent, wiling away the time with fantasies of escape and repressed spite.

This time when Bucky left you cleared your throat. Steve tilted his head as if only then recalling your presence.

"Don't you think you should do this in private?" You asked. "Yesterday I was in your enemy’s bed. Who's to say I'm not still?"

"You're funny," He chuckled dryly, "But we both know this was an easy out for him and besides, I like my woman to have a head on their shoulders. He should've never kept you ignorant." He flicked away a notification on his phone. "The man's good at making enemies, isnt he?"

"You think that makes me an ally?" You rolled your eyes.

"I think it makes you valuable. I walk around with Charlie's woman on my arm...who knows what I'll take next?"

You chewed your lip and mulled his words. "I gotta use the restroom." You said sharply. "Shall I do that here too?"

"You know, I dont know how Charlie ever grew tired of you," He grinned, "Go on. It's just down the hall to the left. I'm sure my men will keep a close enough eye on you."

He sat back and picked up his phone. He pivoted the chair away from you as he leaned back and waited for the line to pick up. You stood as he greeted the other end and left him with one last glance. Was this some trap?

Sure enough, there was a guard outside his door. As you made your way to the bathroom you were met by the only other face you could put a name to in this place. Bucky scowled and crossed his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Taking a piss," You shot back. "Don't worry, boss man gave me the go ahead."

"Mmm," He grumbled and sidestepped you, gesturing to the door just past him.

You carried on and skirted through the door. You suspected this wasn't the facility meant for patrons; it was too clean for that. You bundle up the sheet and sat to do your business, your eyes settling on the frosted window just above the sink. You finished up and secured the sheet in a sturdy knot around your chest.

You made sure the door was locked before crossing to the window. It took all your strength to open, just enough space for you to fit. You climbed onto the sink and hoisted yourself up. You held in your grunts as you pulled yourself through and carefully maneuvered to land on your feet. As you came down, a jolt went through your ankle and you hissed. Fuck.

You limped around the side of the building, hoping to evade any lookouts meandering in the back. As you turned the corner, your eyes on the tall fence that lined the parking lot, you were nearly barrelled over by another. Bucky was in front of you again and this time he had you in his grasp.

You struggled with him and he easily had you off your feet. You brought your knee up between his legs before he could sling you over his shoulder and he dropped you with yelp. He sunk to his knees and you scurried past him on your sore ankle only to have him catch it and pull you down with him. You scratched at the grass as you tried to kick him away. He easily held your legs together and regained his composure. 

He stood and dragged you up with him, your arms behind your back as growled at you to walk. You swore as he led you inside the back door and along the hall to the office. You shook your head as he reached over your shoulder and knocked. The call to enter returned and you were shoved inside. Steve looked up, amused by your disheveled appearance. The sheet was starting to sag dangerously and was covered in dirt and grass stains.

"Ahh, I did remember the window once you left but I didn't think you'd have the gall to try it." He laughed darkly as his features hardened. His jaw tensed and his eyes lost their playful sparkle. "You can leave, Buck. I'll deal with her."

Bucky released you harshly and the door slammed behind you.

"While I admire your tenacity, I really can't have you grappling with my men. Not to mention running." He stood and the hair along your neck raised on end. He rounded his desk and stood in front of you with a sigh. "I think I've been pretty nice considering."

"Really? Walking around like this?" You grabbed the sheet before it could slip any further.

"I could have marched you to the meeting naked." He countered, "Maybe I should have."

"Maybe…" Your nostrils flared as you pushed back your shoulders.

"I didn't because while this arrangement is not entirely favourable for you, I do have some degree of respect for you." He reached out to touch your hand at the loosened knot of the sheet, "And I thought last night was pretty spectacular."

You stared at him grimly. Last night didn't matter much when you were still his prisoner. It didn't matter that you had enjoyed it because it never should have been. You had been vulnerable. Weak. You lowered your head, afraid to speak your mind and anger him further.

"I'll send someone out for clothes," He removed his hand and exhaled, "Just no more running."

"Fine," You sounded like a spoiled brat.

-

When the windows began to dim with the shroud of evening you were once more taken up to the loft. An audible click sounded from the other side and you grimaced. You turned and walked the perimeter of the room; restless despite your lack of sleep. You neared the small closet in the corner and rolled the door open. Within were a few button ups and a pair of slacks. You assumed these were spare for Steve on his grimier days; bloodier days.

You took one of the shirts and dumped the sheet in a pile on the armchair. You slipped into the shower and washed off the dirt and sweat; bruises tender from your struggle with Bucky. You limped out and hooked three buttons of the shirt. It reached past your thighs and hung over your hands. Your rolled the sleeves enough to free yourself and tucked yourself into the bed. You didn't know how long you'd be trapped here so best to sleep while you could.

The mattress was welcoming and you curled up at the edge. You had formed the habit after many resentful nights next to Charlie. When his libido towards you had dwindled, your self esteem had gone along with it. You dozed with one arm hanging to the floor; a respite from reality.

You were stirred to a shallow slumber when you sensed movement in the room. It was distant, almost dreamlike and yet you knew it was real. Soft footsteps and the rustle of clothing. The bed dipped and the blanket was pulled back as a warmth settled against your back.

"Nice shirt," Steve whispered and you were roused entirely. You tried to pull away but he left little space on the bed and his arm was around you in a second. "Just sleep. It's late."

You gripped his arm but he only tightened his hold on you. His hot breath whisked over your scalp and you could feel his naked thighs against yours. The heat traveled along your body and you squeezed your eyes shut. Not again. You needed sleep and you already felt bad enough.

He was snoring shortly after and the steady rumble lulled you back to sleep. You woke up in a sweat, cocooned in his embrace and the blanket. You mumbled and tried to wiggle free of him. He awoke with a yawn and you felt a prod on your thigh. Your eyes widened and you reproached yourself for the tickle within.

His hand slipped down, inching just below them of the shirt. You reached down to stop him as his fingers nestled just at your vee. "You can't just steal one of my shirts and expect me not to rip it off," He purred.

"Steve," You clung to his hand as he tried to force it between your legs.

"It was a long day, wasn't it?" He cooed, his lips grazed your ear. "Tell me you don’t need a little relaxation."

"I…" You croaked, your voice died as his finger teased along your thigh.

“You make it hard enough focus on business so why don't you help me clear my head?" He lifted himself up and kissed your temple, then your cheek. "You owe me after that little window stunt you pulled."

You tried not to ease into his warmth, his scent, the touch of his hand. "It's not right."

"Babe, you have two choices here. You can be miserable and a prisoner or you can make this little arrangement beneficial to both of us." His finger slipped between your legs, then two, then his whole hand. He pushed them apart and pressed his palm to your pussy. "Either way, I get my fun."

You knew there wasn't any saying no to him. This was a man who wasn't often denied and when he was, well he found a way to get what he wanted. And even if you could find it within yourself to resist, you didn't really want to. Not after Charlie had abandoned you. In a way, it was your only hope for vengeance. Your only power in a hopeless situation.

You rolled flat on your back and bent a leg, opening yourself up to him. His lips were on yours as he leaned over you. He kissed you as if to devour you and his finger skimmed over your clit. The twitch of your pelvis had a second on your bud and he drew slow circles around it. He rubbed you cloyingly, drawing out each swirl as you moaned into his mouth. You pushed your head back and his lips drifted along your chin, trailing down your neck as his teeth grazed your throat.

He slipped his hand further down, his fingers spreading your arousal around your entrance as his thumb teased your clit. You grasped his blond hair, his beard rough against your skin. He bent further and unbuttoned the shirt with his free hand. He took a nipple in his mouth as the fabric parted, his hand working deliberately as you arched your back. You moaned duskily and sunk your head further into the pillow as he pushed inside and curled his fingers. His pace remained diligent, building as you heard your pussy squelch around him. You felt a flutter, slowly it built to storm, and you were writhing in delight, grunting through your teeth. 

“Come on, baby,” He lifted his head, his blue eyes smoky as he watched the quiver of your lips, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.” He quickened again the pressure spread from your pussy to your thighs. Just a little more. “Look at you. You’re perfect. Yes, come on. You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, longing for the release. You panted as your eyes closed against your will.

“Should I use my mouth?” He whispered, his nose brushed your cheek, “Is that what you want? You do taste so sweet.”

He shifted and his thumb moved only to be replaced with an intoxicating coolness. His beard tickled your thigh as his tongue pressed to your bud and you whined. He kept his fingers working in and out of you as he licked and suckled at you. You raised your leg and the furor ripped through you. Your cry was sporadic, half a scream through shuddered breaths as you tried to curl yourself around Steve’s head. He didn’t stop until you lay limp and feebly across the mattress.

He sat up, leaning back on his heels as he looked down at you. His cock stood as he casually reached down to stroke it. He grabbed your hands and pulled you up to a sit. You were trembling. He slid the shirt down your arms and you helped untangle it from your body. He stretched his legs out beneath yours and drew you onto his lap. He lined himself up and eased inside of you with a single motion.

You sunk to his base with a thin moan. Your torso was flush to his as he brushed his hands up your back, his arms kept you close as his fingers hook over your shoulders. He began to rock beneath him and you mimicked his motion. His mouth was on yours in a moment, his teeth clinging to your bottom lip as your breath picked up again. You shuddered as the friction, inside and without, started to gather. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your warmth melding with his as your flesh tingled.

“Oh, doll, you’re so fucking sexy,” His hands slipped down to your hips and he guided you, “Fuckkkk.” He drew out the word as he hung his head back. “I’m going to cum already. Goddamn it.” He hissed and you felt the sudden burst. 

The sensation had your walls thrumming and you hummed out your own orgasm as your thighs braced around him. He flopped back as you remained straddling him. You placed your hands flat on his stomach and steadied yourself. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he smiled. You made to climb off of him but he held you in place. 

“Ah...just a minute.” He growled, “I got more, don’t you worry.”

+

tags:  @meaganottiz02 @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtitties @thosecikinnn @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @thirstyforsomeyandere @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @asleep-amid-the-flowers @sunstarskyhappiness @xxxelettaxxx @honeyofthegods @rainbowkisses31 @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @peaceloveyesh @scarletlingeries @directionerfae @bodhi-black @kyllorren @captainarp @sargeant-bbarnes @tuyetnhivo @heartislubbingdubbing @kiwihoee @vanishingod @aekr @purpliepanda @arkhamsanity @lazinessisalliknow @grossceleste @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @holylulusworld @yagurlrosie @couldntbedamned @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @spaghettirogers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lazinessisalliknow @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes 

[rose-sunlight]

J&C’s RTA (or, for the boring people: Jake and Charles’ Road Trip Adventure)

Pairings: Implied Jake Peralta/Charles Boyle, Mentioned Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Original Male Character (OC)

Warnings: One mention of antisemitism, but it isn't graphic.

Summary: When Jake returns from being undercover, Charles realises how depressed he is over Amy's rejection. He decided the perfect remedy is a BFF Road trip. Little does he know, this Road Trip will bring some interesting revelations into the light.

A/n: This is for the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2020 Fic Exchange written for @impossiblyizzy​! Hope you enjoy!

As soon as Jake returned to the precinct after being undercover, Charles began to plan this trip. He knew about Jake confessing his feelings to Amy (squeal), and how he was horribly rejected. When he returned, unchanged from his stint undercover, Charles vowed to take Jake on a road trip to end all road trips.

He even decided that Jake could dub their trip, hoping that would cheer him up. It did, and so they left on their summer J&C’s RTA—unknowing that what would happen could possibly change the course of their friendship forever.

Of course, Charles knew that they had to have an appropriate car to travel the way in, that’s why he chose a 1960’s panel van, like the one from Scooby-Doo. He thought Jake would look at it and smile; he did, but his smile disappeared almost instantly. Even when he climbed inside and looked around at all the snacks and chips Charles had bought (he had decided on the ones Jake likes, not the ones he liked that had a crunchy mealworm flavour. But Jake looked at them and smiled again, leaning against the window as Charles began to drive to their first location.

The music was blaring: Jake had insisted that Carly Rae-Jepsen and Taylor Swift be playing constantly at full volume. Charles had one hand outside the car, dragging it through the air, feeling the wind between his fingers as they flew past grand houses in the suburbs of New York at break-neck speed. Jake had his eyes closed against the rays of the sunlight coming through the windshield, a small smile tugging on his lips.

He was picturing Amy here with him, experiencing the beginnings of this elysian sunset.

“You know what you need?” Charles said, not taking his eyes off the road.

Jake shrugged, “A dartboard with Teddy’s dumb stupid face on it?”

“No,” Charles sighed, “You need to find someone else. Someone who will make you forget about Amy!”

Jake shook his head “I don’t know, Charles, I just can’t do that. Everyone would remind me of Amy.” He knew this was a lie, he could find someone who was the opposite of Amy and love them for the night, but it wouldn’t be the same, because all he would be able to think of would be how it wasn’t Amy holding him, kissing his neck…

“Well, I’m sure someone where we’re going will have a pair of lips for you.”

“In a weird way, thanks.”

They arrived at their first hotel stop the next day, after taking turns driving. It wasn’t much, but it was grand in its own way, with charming old windows and exposed brick. It was almost like a cottage, but with people and balconies watching you arrive. Charles slung his bag over his bag, slamming his car door shut as Jake did the same.

The receptionist was an older woman, scowling with tiny glasses on the bridge of her nose as Charles smiled and gave their room numbers. He’d decided, for privacy (a new concept for Charles, but one he was willing to learn for the sake of his heartbroken friend), that they would have separate rooms. He looked back from the scornful woman to Jake, who was frantically typing on his phone.

“Who’s that?” Charles asked as Jake shot up, eyes wide, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh, uh, no one, just…you know, Rosa…”

Charles raised an eyebrow “Oh, yeah, right, we both know Rosa doesn’t text you for that long,” His eyes comically widened in realisation, like the parent who had caught him with said hand in the cookie jar, “you’re texting Amy, aren’t you?”

“What? Charles, no, why would I?”

Before Charles could respond, the scowling woman passed over the two keys, suddenly breaking out into a fond smile that shook Charles slightly. He grabbed them and thanked her “You boys have fun; are you waiting on another couple?” She asked, holding back the other key.

Charles blushed, suddenly a bumbling mess “Uh, no, we-we’re not…uh…we’re not a couple…” He managed to blurt out, watching as the woman pushed her glasses up and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, here,” she replied, handing over the second key before gesturing to the stairs “your floor is the third, first two doors on the right, you can’t miss them.”

“Ok, great, thanks” Jake said, grabbing his bags and dragging Charles away from the woman, who he was still gaping at for assuming the two of them were a couple. They were halfway up the stairs when Jake turned back to Charles, who was still frowning as he walked.

“You know,” Jake started “I never imagined you to act so weird just because someone assumed you were with a dude”.

Charles shook his head again, furrowing his eyebrows as they finally got to their respective rooms “Oh, no, it wasn’t that I just realised that she looked like Julia Child! I have all her cookbooks, she looked just like her!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

There was a pause as they both stood in their hallways, staring at each other. The night was still hot and the stars that had just peaked out from the New York smog were shining through, creating an almost blue effect on Jake and Charles face. Jake had to stop; in this light, he noted how handsome his best friend truly was, but only in the way that his looks complimented his personality nicely.

Jake swallowed on air, Adam’s apple bobbing “I’m…going to go in. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Charles nodded, smiling a toothless grin “See you in the morning.”

They went into their separate rooms. Charles couldn’t sleep: he didn’t really understand why Jake got so offended about his supposed shock around being called a couple. He figured it was just a normal Jake move, standing up for whatever he felt was right. Maybe he felt a compassion to help those marginalised groups. After all, Jake had revealed to them the horrific things said about him in his youth when he wore the star of David around his neck.

Charles decided to sleep it off. Jake wasn’t doing much sleeping, and wasn’t planning on doing so until his casual fling was out of his room. He wanted them to stay, for that bit of closeness he really needed from anyone, but he decided that it was easier this way, for them to sneak out in the early hours of the morning.

Morning came, and the weather had ramped up again. It was a heavy heat that made it almost impossible to breathe, and Boyle was sure he would’ve died if it wasn’t for his sleep apnoea mask keeping him breathing. He almost slept in, like he was planning to, but housekeeping knocked (even though he had put ‘do-not-disturb’ on his door handle), and he found himself scurrying out of the room in shorts and a t-shirt.

Unfortunately—or, fortunately, for Jake, Boyle had stepped out of his room the exact time his fling of the night left, planting a big kiss on his lips, while Jake stood in the doorway of his room, dressed only in a pair of white boxers.

“Thanks for a great night.” The man, Jason, he had introduced himself as, said, walking straight past Boyle’s gobsmacked face. Although, it did make a lot of sense for Jake to like guys, when he thought about it. Jake stared back at Charles with a pale face, one arm outstretched.

“How much of that did you see?” He asked, not as concerned as Charles thought he would be, judging on the nice shade of translucent Jake had seemingly turned “I need to know so I can gauge how big my lie has to be”

Charles cut him off “Jake, you could’ve just told me.”

Jake’s shoulders slumped “I know. But…I don’t know, I’ve been keeping this a secret for so long, I was worried you’d be mad. No one knows, if that helps, not even Gina.”

“Knows what?”

Jake flushed red “You know what.”

Charles took a step forward, trying his best to be comforting to his embarrassed and half-naked friend. “I know, but…but it might help you if you say it out loud.”

He had a glint in his eye, and Charles could detect it as unwavering emotion and unshed tears from years of pent-up frustration. He wonders how many times Jake’s tried to tell the squad, how many times he’s tried to correct the pronouns of whoever he’d been on a date with the day before his shift. “N—” he let out a deep blowing breath, “No one else knows…that I’m Bisexual.”

Charles smiled proudly, reaching out to pull Jake into a hug. He didn’t cry, not even as Charles stroked his back comfortingly. He was just relieved that someone else knew. If it had to be anyone, he was glad it was Charles.

“If it helps…no one would judge you. Especially not me.” Charles gave a stern look, and Jake almost begged him silently to continue. “I’m Pansexual! I thought you knew, Jakey, I talk about my fat crush on Dave from HR all the time!”

If Jake was in a cartoon, his eyes would be like saucers right about now. “I thought you meant in…like, a bro way!”

“There is no way me talking about all the explicit things I’d let him do could possibly be in a bro way.” Charles deadpanned as Jake let out a breathy laugh.

“Cool.” Jake said, smiling at his friend as if their eyes had just met for the first time in their friendship. He sits down on the motel fire escape, and Charles joins him, knees brushing against each other “So how does being Pan work?”

Charles sighed “A lot of people say a lot of different things. For me…I’m attracted to the soul of someone before their body. I don’t care about gender, as long as they’re kind and intellectually sexy.” He was staring straight at Jake now (no pun intended).

“We’re super dumb.” Jake groaned.

“Yep.”

“Are our gay-dars that broken that we’ve been friends for what? Five years? And neither of us knew the other was LGBTQIA?”

Charles let out a large giggle, smiling at Jake, nudging him slightly “One hell of a road-trip, right?”

“Yeah,” Jake smiled back, “And it’s only just started.”

submit a request here | Masterlist

[mychemicalficrecs]

hi, do you know any good vampire frerard fics? :)

Hi Nonny!

I do know a few of those: check out this list that's all about Gerard as a vampire (and mostly Frank/Gerard). If that can't quench your thirst, try this list!I've read the first four of these (no. 2 & 3 are the same universe) but there are A LOT of fics about Vampire Frank/Gerard on AO3 and all of these looked really interesting, so there should be something for every taste!Some fics on this list have multiple pairings, I've added those to the descriptions when they seemed more than a background or past relationship.

Vampire Frank/Gerard

Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency by jjtaylor, Pennyplainknits, more ships in later fics, 164k, Mature, Teen And Up Audiences, General Audiences. Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister rituals.

They Came From Outer Jersey! by thatsfinewithus, Gen, Frank/Gerard, 25k, Rated R. New London Fire is an elite fringe government force assigned the task of protecting the earth from some of its more interesting threats: those from beyond the atmosphere or even the universe. They've handled dangerous cases before, but they've never seen anything like...ZOMBIES FROM SPACE. Vampires, long hunted in lore and legend, are now the earth's only saviors. There is little information as to who sent the creatures until Mikey Way, head of the NLF, finds out more by being abducted. Is it too late for him? Is it too late for the earth? Find out how six vampires, one government general, and one frustrated comic book artist save the earth in...THEY CAME FROM OUTER JERSEY!!

I Think I Thought (I Saw You Try) by thatsfinewithus, 3k, NC-17. Vampires, and MCR, and porn. Welcome to some weird AU world in which Gee only does awesome comics and Frank is a vampire.

A State Of Orange by gala_apples, Frank/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, 20k, Explicit. Being a halfling in a red state can sometimes cause issues for Frank Iero. He’s the weakest at Jett Clement High School, and probably the entire state (not counting the meal plans). His moods are oddly stable, as much as he tries to be mercurial. And being able to withstand the sun for up to twenty minutes only allows him more time to be forced into chores. Still, his parents are insane if they think he’s going to be happy about their decision. Frank doesn’t want to move to a Mixed state. How is he supposed to get great friends? How is he supposed to find great food? How is he supposed to have great sex? But Frank doesn’t have a choice. He’s New Jersey bound for the next year, if not longer. He’ll be surrounded by tame vampires who have been nagged out of a sex drive, and humans he’s not allowed to eat. Mixed states suck. Lucky for him, not every person in Jersey sucks.

All's Night by MizErie, 16k, Explicit. The war between humans and vampires has been raging for centuries. Too long according to Frank Iero. But if all humans aren't considered equal, what chance do vampires have in the fight for equality? That's why when Frank bought and began running his small bar, The Jukebox, he also implemented All’s Night. All’s Night began as an all-inclusive Tuesday night for tolerant humans and vampires to come together and socialize. Its popularity in the community has grown, and Frank has since started hosting All’s Night on Thursdays as well. Those are his two favorite nights of the week.

Life as a Process by ViciousVenin, 57k, Explicit. Frank's college experience isn't exactly what he was hoping for. He has no idea what he wants to do with his life, his RA scares him, and his roommate Gerard seems pretty weird. Really weird, actually, but not in a bad way. As the two of them get closer, Frank finds that Gerard is one of the most interesting people he's ever met, and cute as fuck to boot. Frank just wishes he could figure out what Gerard is hiding...

The Life You Always Dreamed Of by caffienedcold, 180k, Mature. You’d think having grown up in New Jersey, Frank would’ve outgrown his horror movie fixation. But no, he’s thirty, teaching Italian in fucking Rhode Island and he actually believes the student gossip that the art teacher is a vampire. So what if Frank has had an awful crush on him since the school year started? He’d helped Mr. Way move into his classroom and carried a box containing issue one of Doom Patrol, a Batman figure, and splattered tubes of screen printing ink. You really couldn’t blame him for the crush. And the vampire rumors? Icing on the cake. At least until it’s Frank’s blood on the line.

'Til the Sun Goes Down by BasementVampire, 2k, Explicit. Frank wants to fuck his best friend. Gerard wants to drink Frank's blood.

I Think I'd Go Insane Without You by hellborn, 3k, Mature. Gerard just smiles, his lips closed, eyes dark red and eager. Mikey covers his face with his hands and squeezes the empty bag between his calloused fingers, "I must be out of my goddamned mind for even considering this." A dangerous, thin-lipped smirk spreads across Gerard's face and Mikey can see row after row of long, sharp, teeth gleaming from between his bloodstained lips, "Come along, Mikes, it's time to dig up my boyfriend's dead body!"

Mortui Non Mordant by Tezy, 32k, General Audiences. “Does that matter right now? I’m – fucking dead, man. I wanted to do so much shit with my life before I died!” “You still can,” the guy said. “Like, nothing’s stopping you.” Gerard leapt to his feet, aghast at how casually he was treating his death. That wasn’t very good manners. “Except being dead.” “What did you want? Fucking ballet dancing at your funeral? Get over it, we all did.”

Those Cemetery Eyes by corruptedkid, 11k, Explicit. Every second Gerard was absent, Frank felt like there was a hole in his chest. The day Mikey showed up at his doorstep blotchy and tearstained, the hole collapsed into a supernova, turning him inside out and swallowing him whole.

at midnight all the agents by orphan_account, 18k, Mature. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't meant to kill you," the black-haired man said in a distressed voice.

we only come out at night by cemetery_driven, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard and Frank are just stupid vampire boyfriends.

Vampire AU by Andromedas_Void, 26k, Explicit and Teen And Up Audiences. Mister Francis Anthony Iero, Junior, Your presence is requested this evening at 221 Upper Birch Lane, North London. A carriage will be awaiting you at 3:00 pm sharp. Cordially yours, Gerard Arthur Way, Esq.

burning up in the sun by akamine_chan, 12k, Explicit. Life hasn't been the same since the Rift. Frank hadn't been planning on getting stuck in this stupid town, kept captive in the sketchiest bar in the universe, chained to the counter like an animal. And just when he'd been sure that nothing could surprise him anymore, he was rescued by a rock 'n' roll band of vampires. He hadn't seen that one coming.

There's A Lot Of Vampires Out There by iamdali, 27k, Explicit. In the year 2025 over 90% of the word's population are vampires. These days, vampires don't have to prowl alleys for human victims, massive medical co-operations mass produce blood and inject it in to every day food. Gerard Way is an office boy for one of the biggest companies in the US, and when he's not paper pushing for Vladimir Co he's plotting to find his still human brother with his companion, Frank.

Like a Secret In Your Throat by frankie_ann, 10k, Explicit. Frank sells himself as a live-in housekeeper/boyfriend. Gerard is a vampire (and independently wealthy artist) with a deeply unhealthy blood addiction who could use a hand around the house now that Mikey is off at school. …Mostly there’s a lot of porn. And blood. And I do believe in happy endings.

(To Die Will Be) An Awfully Big Adventure by FayJay, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Gerard, 73k, Mature. Gerard has always vaguely liked the idea of being a vampire, in much the same way he's always vaguely liked the idea of time travel, or of being a pirate - but it's only when he wakes up dead that he realises that not all his fans (or friends) are actually human. This is rather a shock to the system, but Gerard does his best to deal with the fact that he's now an undead American, and he's lucky enough to get a little help from an unexpected corner. Just as he thinks he's starting to get the hang of being a vampire, however, everything suddenly goes to hell in a handbasket, and before he knows it there are angry vampires slayers chasing him around LA, and an urgent appointment with the Fairy Queen looming before him... A story about love, family, metamorphosis, art, trust and geekery.

Cycle of Souls by Green, Gerard/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, Brian/Gerard, 49k, Explicit. Gerard loses his brother in the 17th century, and is turned shortly after. He grieves for his lost brother for centuries, but becomes content when he meets a man named Frank. Now, in the 21st century, he sees someone who looks exactly like his lost brother. In fact, he's positive the young Mikey is his dead brother come back to life. Will Mikey accept a vampire into his life, or is Gerard destined to lose him yet again?

[bettersafethandicks]

hey i went digging in the landfill again and check it out its twince x reader

oh my god i did this too much i wrote too many word oh shit oh fuck im sorry

like a 75/25 split of troy : tyreen attention to the reader

a spiritual successor to my last troy/reader fic now that like, the games actually out.

contains: 0% sex

contains: CANNIBALISM yuck, nonsexual nudity on reader’s part, gender neutral reader, biting, blood stuff, drugging, kidnapping/getting a lil tied up, monster troy, getting touched n pampered like a nice spa day :), petstuff

5746 words jesus FUCK

It wasn’t the best job.  Sure, things could be worse; things could always be worse on Pandora, and one should count any second spent not prying their arm out of a skag’s mouth as a blessing.  Still, sitting up in a poorly-lit office perched over an eridium mine was so boring.

Officially, you were supposed to be here to oversee outgoing shipments and supply purchases; making sure the weight matched what was on paper …not that you knew what to do when it didn’t match.  That wasn’t your problem, though; you reported it in the daily logs and it was someone else’s corporate war after that.

“It’s time for our Flay of the Day!”

The little screen beside you cheered out in Tyreen Calypso’s energetic voice; the COV-sponsored ads had slowly begun to take over the Echonet recently.  They were always interesting, at least, certainly better than the Hyperion trash that was playing a few years ago.  Even if you didn’t tune into their dedicated channel, you didn’t mind the interruption of the background noise of Space Ghost Adventures.

You looked up from the spreadsheet to watch the short clip. Sometimes the Calypsos themselves would be on, usually if they had a recent raid or some ceremonial murders to show off.  Those were always the most entertaining, seeing the terrible, awesome power of the two of them; they were cool.  Tragically, today’s clip was user-submitted.  Bandits killing bandits- this was Pandora what else was new?

You turned back to your work, listening to the comical dubbed-in sound effects and Tyreen’s gleeful mocking.

Ear-splitting warning sirens jolted you upright.  You groaned, spinning around on your chair to the door.  Someone had pulled the stupid fucking alarm again and-

Screaming.  Yelling. Gunshots that weren’t coming from the screen.  Before you could even stand up to look out the window overlooking the mines, the door to your cramped office slammed open, and a burly, armor-covered bandit stomped toward you, gun drawn.

Your hands were in the air before you could even process it. Instead of the bullet between the eyes you were braced for, the guy was yelling at you to get the door to the safe; a second of hesitation to understand his words earned you a strike to the side of the head with the pistol.  After that you were at the safe, punching in codes and letting the tech scan your biometrics to disable the locks.  Shouting and gunfire was still audible from outside; you pressed your back to the wall of the little office as members of Pandora’s Official Welcome Committee filed in and emptied out the roomful of refined eridium and cash.  The bandit seemingly in charge kept his weapon trained on you, making sure you didn’t try to call in backup or reach for some hidden gun of your own.

It was stupid to think you’d get out of this, in hindsight.

A rather embarrassing yelp escaped you when the human wall holding you at gunpoint reached out to grab your arm.

“Take this one, too, ‘n be careful not to bang em up too much. The soft ones are great arena-bait.”  He grunted, handing you off to another bandit who yanked you effortlessly off your feet.

“Wait wait waitwaitwaitwait-“  You whined as you were dragged out of the room.  

Your begging fell on deaf ears; you looked at the mines as you were hauled off, seeing a few casualties on the ground, but not as many as you expected.  The workers had probably fled when the raid started, the lucky bastards.  Shackles were clamped onto your wrists before you were shoved roughly into the back of a technical with the rest of the loot, landing painfully on a brick of eridium.

The bumpy ride was lit by the soft purple glow of the alien mineral.  You knew you probably shouldn’t be this close to it, people got sick from this didn’t they? On second thought, eridium probably wasn’t the biggest threat to your health right now, you could worry about that later.  If you got a ‘later’.  

It was far too soon that the technical stopped, and the harsh light of the sun was blinding you again when the doors were yanked open. You were unceremoniously slung over some marauder’s shoulder and carried over to a cage and locked in without a word. The cages were stacked three high, and you were on the second ‘story’.  Not quite tall enough to stand up in, vertical bars, exposed on all sides, and generally as uncomfortable as possible; thankfully, the cages were in the shade, probably something they learned after finding some prisoners well-done in the Pandoran heat.  

“Hey!” You cried to the departing bandit “Wait!  I’m still- …” Your wrists were still bound; he was already back to unloading the technical.  With a huff, you slump against the bars.  

No one paid you much mind as they sorted through the spoils, which apparently included you.  Maybe someone nice would buy you.  Maybe one of them would have a change of heart and free you.  Maybe a rakk would fly over and start talking to you.

You had almost dozed off when the familiar sound of chaos started again.  Thugs rushed past you toward the gate of the camp, guns drawn and shouting to their fellow bandits to follow.  You stood as much as the cage would allow, craning your neck around to get a look at what was happening; you heard a psycho screaming before you saw anything-

“FOR THE GLORY OF THE TWIN GODS”

The Children of the Vault were here.

Everything slowed down.  Gunfire had started in earnest at this point; this was a real fight, unlike the sweeping takeover of the mine.  You’d never interacted with the cult in real life- you didn’t even know there was single a bandit clan on the planet still opposing them, nevermind that you’d get the shit luck to get kidnapped by one.  You weren’t really sure which side to root for- the bandit maniacs or the other bandit maniacs.

A stray bullet whistling past your ear snapped you out of it.  You sprang into action; namely collapsing to the floor of the cage and pretending the crossfire had hit true.  You played dead.  

The winning team was quickly apparent, with the COV’s terrible power quickly creeping through the camp.  A mixture of morbid curiosity and shock let you keep your eyes open, watching the carnage.  A feral cheer swelled among their ranks, but you didn’t dare sit up and look toward them to see why- not that it mattered, it was clear soon enough.

The Sirens.  

Your heart jumped.  Adrenaline rushed uselessly through your blood, catching a glimpse of the figures you had only ever seen executing heretics and raiders on screens. Tyreen was striding a path through the chaos, outstretching an arm and draining the life from those running away, and a few fools who tried to run toward her as well.  She laughed, called out taunts and praised her followers.  A cambot whirred behind her, swooping around to get the best angles of the dead and dying.  Seeing her in person, physically there only a few meters from you, leeching bandits into frozen husks in seconds; it was suddenly too real.  She was real and she was here she was devastating and she was enjoying it.

You were so transfixed by Tyreen you almost forgot to wonder; where was-

A screaming bandit slammed into the bars of your cage.

You couldn’t help but jolt- but he wasn’t facing you.  Troy Calypso was on him, huge prosthetic hand gripping the man’s head and bashing it against the bars a second time, stunning him. Troy’s face shifted.  You watched in primal fear as that arrogant smirk grew into a grin, and kept going.  Gold glinted on inhuman fangs, ever more revealed as his cheek cracked open along the lines on his face, metal clips coming undone.  His bottom lip split in the center, and all at once the rumors that Troy Calypso’s mods went further than just his arm were confirmed.

The jagged show of teeth disappeared as he jerked his head forward, sinking his fangs deep into the poor bastard’s throat.  You were frozen, lying there like a cornered rabbit, not even having the sense to shut your eyes.  Some primitive part of your brain was telling you if you didn’t move a muscle, you’d be okay, that moving would only attract the predator’s attention.  

Troy’s eyes were closed, blood pulsing out over his face; his nose wrinkled as he tightened his grip with a growl, something in the man’s throat giving way and letting those jaws slice deeper in.  He was inches from your face.  The poor bastard made a sickening gargling noise, and then was quiet.  For a few seconds, all you could hear was your own deafening heartbeat racing in your ears, the clamor of the vicious raid was so distant; unimportant.  

A wet, tearing, popping sound brought everything back as Troy pulled away, taking the mouthful of flesh with him.  His jaws flexed asymmetrically as he swallowed, letting the limp body collapse to the dirt, Troy’s face and chest coated in red.  The siren let out a pleased sigh, expression hazy as a too-long tongue lapped over the grotesque skag-like maw, doing next to nothing in his effort to clean the blood from it.

Icy blue eyes, suddenly lucid and striking and predatory snapped to yours.  

You stopped breathing.  Troy’s jaw slid together, enough that you could make out the sharp grin.  

“Ohh, playing dead, huh?”

You could barely hear the question.  

He leaned in, nose almost touching the bars, eyes searing into you.  

“Cleveeer.” He slurred; mouth still broken at the seams.

Troy winked at you, and turned to revel in the massacre with his twin.  

The rest of the fight passed by in a blur; all you could think about was Troy’s eyes, so blue against that mask of red, the blood falling from the edge of his jaw in slimy bright red strings and you could swear you could hear it patter on the ground, the way the alien tattoos flowing over his face gave off such enticing light-

Had you ever seen someone die so close before?  Sure, distantly, but it was always over there. You had dried blood on your cheek.

You hadn’t even realized the bullets had stopped flying.

“That one.”

“The dead one?”

“Yeah.  Bring it to me.”

No- nonononononono- no no Troy Calypso was not talking about you the heavy footsteps of a bandit fanatic were not getting closer he hadn’t just ordered you to be brought to him you’re dead you aren’t worth anyone’s time you’ve been dead this whole raid just leave just get out no no no please-

           You heard the lock crack under a sharp blow.

“Eww, what, you’re a scavenger now, Troy?  I thought you liked them kicking?”  Tyreen, her voice so clear when it wasn’t sent through a speaker, so close-

Your still-shackled hands were locked around the metal bars the moment the bandit took hold of your clothing, springing to life in a blind terror. You realized you were screaming, wailing for help you knew wasn’t out there; you were plucked from the cage, grip broken like it was nothing.  Tyreen and Troy got nearer with every step as you were hauled over to them, struggling and begging.  

Tears were stinging your eyes by the time the fanatic stopped in front of the sirens; you curled up in his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing yourself to be leeched or shot or something.

“Heh, y’see?  Already all wrapped up and everything.”  You cracked an eye open, heart in your throat.  Troy jerked a thumb toward a massive war technical.  “Put ‘em in the carrier, we’ll get shots at camp- better lighting n’ sound.”

Tyreen caught your eye as you passed by, head tilting and siren markings glowing softly; your blood ran cold when she gave you a deadly smirk. Tyreen smiling was the same level of bad news as Tyreen frowning; maybe worse.  

Still reeling, you were shoved into an empty barrel attached to the side of the technical. A metal grate had been fitted to the front on a hinge, and just like that you were in another cage.  The barrel titled back, rolling you to the closed end and you had no choice but to sit in the cramped little container while they finished raiding the camp.  

You couldn’t see much more than the darkening sky on the drive to…wherever you were going.  It felt like they had given the wheel to the most erratic psycho in the cult, and you were battered around the metal tube like a cocktail shaker.  By the time the vehicle pulled in to some kind of garage, you were positive you were going to vomit or pass out or both.  

Heavy bootsteps approached, and the barrel was tilted 180 degrees while the door was flung open, dumping you roughly to the ground.  You curled up, letting out a strained whine of pain.  

“Aaand here’s our new project!  Wanted to get some ‘before’ shots of it.”  Troy poked you with his boot, turning you over onto your back.  A cambot flitted around you, zooming in and out. “Grabbed this treat at the last heretic cleanse, you can see highlights of that party right here- “ He pointed up and to his right, where he’d presumably be editing in a link to the massacre you had just been a part of.  

On your back, wrists bound in front of you, bashed up and terrified, the sight of Troy Calypso towering over you made you certain you were about to die.  When he reached down with that brutal mechanical to grab your wrists you couldn’t help but shriek, trying your best to scrabble away from his touch.

Troy barked out a laugh, easily catching you and pulling you upright.

“Tch, aww, lookit this sad little stray.”  His tone was mocking, amused.   His normal hand wrapped around your jaw, firmly tilting your face this was and that for the camera.  You got a quick view of your surroundings, a massive technical bay, surprisingly organized for the chaotic exterior of the cult.  Devotees were scattered around, working on vehicles and otherwise giving Troy a wide, cautious radius.

“Yeah, this’ll be nice and fixed up.  You guys won’t even recognize them by the end of this one.” He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, and you realized you had been bleeding.  “Alright, that’s the end of introductions, I wanna get this thing started.  See you in a bit!”  

The cambot gave a chirp, and its red recording light blinked off at Troy’s cue.  Troy lifted his blood-smeared thumb to his mouth, and licked it.  

“Hoo, wow.”  Troy exhaled sharply. “Yeah, ah, get them goin’ for me, make it good.“  He motioned to two robed figures standing off to the side, seemingly waiting for this invitation.  “Mmh, behave for them, hm sweetheart?”  Troy gave you a flash of sharp teeth in a crooked smile.

Cultists guided you away in a fog.  By this point you had been through way too much for the past however-many hours, and you obediently stumbled along for them.  You just wanted to lie down and wake up.  The noise and bustle of the compound began to thin the deeper into the building you were led, and your chaperons weren’t exactly talkative. This was all probably very secret and important, and maybe you’d be looking around in wonder at the magnificent décor if you could keep your eyes focused.

Heavy, ornate doors pulled open at the end of a particularly holy looking hall; a tiled room, decorated in mosaic patterns of red and blue, twisting snakes and wide starburst eyes, designs leading off along the floor into different rooms.  The sound of water running came from somewhere, echoing off the tile.  The room smelled sweet, vaguely floral but not overpoweringly so, and the air was heavy and humid.  Now you were staring around in wonder, too much to even notice the additional attendants had begun to undo the buttons and straps of your clothing.  

You tripped back, yanking your shackles from the hands of an acolyte you hadn’t seen.

“Calm yourself, Lamb.”  A priest rasped; the first time you had heard one speak.  “No harm will come to you here, you are protected under the power of the godking.”

“W-what does that mean?”  Your voice cracked now that you had finally found it, and it struck you how thirsty you were.

A cultist took your hands once again, working at the mechanism on the shackles.  “You are being readied for Troy Calypso, as He has requested.  The cleansing process is not a painful one, simply relax.”

The lock jolted, and the heavy metal fell from your wrists with a thunk.  Another fanatic carried it off, and you realized just how many figures were bustling around the room.  You tensed up, jaw tightening as an attendant resumed undoing the many straps and laces of the clothing necessary for the desert planet.  A lump formed in your throat as you fought the urge to tear yourself away.

The discomfort must’ve been radiating from you, because one of them spoke up.  “You need not be so uneasy; we have no desires of our own, only to serve the Twin Gods.  To act out from their wishes would be deserving of an unholy death.”  Nodding and soft murmurs of agreement sounded out around the room.  

Literal and figurative armor was pulled from you, the warm air now more welcoming than stifling.  A white towel was wrapped around your body, and you got the feeling it was for your own benefit.  

“Are you familiar with washing?”  You’d feel offended if you were on any other planet; here it was a reasonable question.

“Uh, yes.”  

“Very well.  Come along, Lamb.”  

The room you were led into was even more warm and misty than the antechamber, a slight fog hanging in the air from heated water.  Opulent mosaics on the wall depicted the twin gods lounging in golden robes, light rays shining out from them.  A stonework shower was built into a corner, and you were guided toward it, a washcloth and pitch-black bar of unscented soap waiting in the hands of a cultist.  You hesitantly took the objects, and handed over your towel with some reluctance.  

A glass door provided some barrier between you and your audience, who thankfully really did seem uninterested.  Being exposed was not something you were used to on Pandora- or, at all really.  Two silver knobs in front of you were self-explanatory, and you turned on the water-

Hot water.  God, how long had it been since you had a hot shower?  You let out a gasp, shoulders slumping as you turned your face up to the stream.  You opened your mouth, filling it with water and swishing it around, drinking some when you realized it tasted clean.  It felt like pounds of dust was being rinsed off your skin, and you rubbed at your face, reveling in the stark difference between this and standing under a freezing hose for a few minutes.  

The black bar of soap lathered nicely, and you set to work scrubbing off your battered and dry skin.  Wisps of red swirled down the drain as you washed all the cuts and scrapes you had accumulated, as well as some blood that probably wasn’t even yours. You washed yourself less out of submission to the COV, and more because you just wanted to feel human again.

Reluctantly, you eventually stepped out of the shower, not wanting to leave but also not wanting to keep a bunch of vicious cultists waiting too long.  Instead of handing you a towel though, the robed acolyte took you toward a large clawfoot tub on the other side of the room.  You’d only ever seen those in movies- the edges curved out gracefully, and the bath was already filled; petals of a flower you couldn’t identify floated in the purple-tinted water.  The cultist held their hand out, offering you help getting in.  

Taking the hand, you dipped one foot in.  The water was hot, on the edge of being too hot, but not quite.  You slipped into the bath, sinking into the enveloping heat; you felt like you could drift off. Fingers wove into your hair, making you jump-

“Shhhhh, relax.”  The cultist soothed.  

You obeyed, figuring it was a little late to start resisting now. Gently, they worked the tangles out of your wet hair, brought on mostly by your recent experience as a twice-over prisoner.  More cultists appeared, pouring softly-scented liquids and powders into the bath, and you become aware of a not-unpleasant tingling feeling creeping over your skin.  You let your eyes slide shut, listening to the quiet shuffle of the cult members echoing on the tile and the low, (admittedly pretty) hymns playing from somewhere.

A depression in the bath’s edge provided a perfect fit for you to rest your head, feeling the hands working through your hair hanging over the edge, massaging your scalp and working some kind of shampoo into it.  A handheld sprayer rinsed the lather from your head, and you were released to fully recline in the tub.  You let your ears dip under the water, outside sounds gone, leaving you alone with your heartbeat.  Your body bounced ever so slightly in the water as you breathed, the bath large enough for you to float without touching the bottom or sides.  You could fall asleep here.

In fact, you did.  

You had no idea how long you had been unconscious, only that someone was pulling you from the bath, hooking their hands under your arms and lifting you out.  The water had cooled significantly, but it wasn’t yet room temperature.  You mumbled softly.

“Apologies Lamb, but we cannot allow you to soak any longer.” A cultist was at your side, wrapping a fluffy, deep red towel around you the moment you were out of the bath.  “The next step in the process awaits.”

Your legs felt heavy as you were led out of the bathing room and into another gorgeous space.  When they guided you to a cushioned, slightly reclined chair, you didn’t question it. If they wanted to treat you to some weird spa day before…whatever happened, then fine.  The small room was lit dimly, mostly with candles.

The dirt was scrubbed from under your nails, hands given a light massage once clean.  

“Eat, Lamb.”  You opened your eyes to a cultist offering you some kind of food.   They held the bite out to you from a fork, but didn’t object to you taking the plate yourself.

You had forgotten how hungry you were, after being kept for however many hours in the sun and rattled around in two separate bandit vehicles.  The food was…some kind of meat, you’d seen more suspicious.  You’d seen less suspicious too, but it smelled good and wasn’t burned to charcoal; it actually seemed seasoned and prepared, imagine that.

Eating with so many eyes on you would normally have made you uncomfortable, but you were too starved to care.  Almost immediately, a priest was there with another plate, this one carrying an assortment of fruits; some you had never seen before.  Normally you had to fight off scurvy with vitamin tablets, fruit was a rare luxury here, even when it was in season.  The COV must’ve had it imported in from off-planet…

You picked out a few grapes, not yet brave enough to try one of the glowy things.  A reddish tinted drink was given to you in a wine glass; you half expected some alcoholic burn, but it was cool and sweet and made your mouth feel a little fuzzy instead. Hands rubbed at your shoulders, slowly easing the knots out of your muscles, a cultist occasionally encouraging you to try another bit of fruit.  Eventually you were taken to a cushioned table and made to lie down, the towel removed and replaced with a warm blanket laid across you.  

Years-worth of aches and soreness was slowly worked out of your back, spine cracking in a satisfying way every so often.  Oils and lotions were rubbed into your skin, your joints being stretched gently by several hands at once, all the while you felt more and more dazed.  

After a soothing lifetime of being massaged and tended to, you were pulled to your feet.  You weren’t even concerned with being exposed anymore, and they led you back out into the main lobby of the area where an especially-holy-looking acolyte stood with a drape of shimmery fabric laid across her arms.  A lower-ranked cultist stood holding a smoking container of incense, and they approached you, mumbling some prayer you couldn’t pay attention to if you tried.  You obliged them, allowing the priest to pull the white shawl over your body.

Once the priest had finished muttering the praises and blessings or whatever she was doing, a particularly large cultist came forward and simply picked you up.  You limply allowed it, now just along for whatever ride they decided to take you on. You were carried down some halls; you couldn’t really pay attention to the surroundings anymore.  Eventually, you reached your destination, and they laid you out on an altar in the center of a temple-like room.  After a few more prayers and responses from your entourage, the cultists all left you, heavy doors creaking shut and leaving you in silence.

You felt distant, lying there on the chilly gilded altar.  No doubt due to the strange drugs that had been soaked and rubbed and fed to you, but…it felt okay.  You couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed, this peaceful.  The now empty room was beautiful from what you could see, all stained glass and candles and regal draped fabric, the spicy scent of incense hanging in the air.  The silky robe the attendants had wrapped you in feeling so soft on your skin, yet another a luxury you’d never experienced before.

You couldn’t even find the care to pick up your head when you heard the huge doors open.  A cambot whirred into view, and you could hear Troy before you saw him.

“Leeet’s see the finished product!”  The siren came into view, towering over you, appraising his servants’ work.  “Ooh, goddamn would you look at that.” His fingertips grazed over your jaw, and you felt compelled to tilt your head to the side, letting him continue down the side of your throat.  “Aww, see? So obedient.  All that fear just-” he gestured with his mech hand, as if waving something away.  “-gone. So committed to your blessed purpose now.”

Troy leaned down, nudging his face under your chin, close enough that the tip of his nose ghosted over your skin.  You shivered a little at the touch, but had no instinct to recoil; he inhaled deeply, exhaling through parted lips.  A rumbling noise, something between a purr and a growl, buzzed ever so softly from his throat.  

 “Ah-“  He stood straight again, running a hand through his hair and visibly unfocused.  “Uh- heh, right, hang on I gotta get some shots for the unpaid version.”  

The cambot bobbed back around, and you shifted slightly, feeling almost sleepy under the gaze of this apex predator and his billions of followers.

Soon enough, it seemed Troy had gotten the shots he needed, and moved in again.  His hand, warm where the glowing siren tattoos snaked over it, slid the robe from your shoulder.  Troy nestled his head up to the exposed skin, and you gasped a little when the wet heat of his tongue slid over your collarbone.

Troy gripped your sides, and bit.

You twitched at his sharpened teeth sinking into your shoulder, but couldn’t muster more than that.  

A deep groan rumbled from the siren’s chest, his jaw tightening on you; curiously, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected.  Some pinching and a deal of pressure were there, but the drugs you were full of seemed to be keeping you nicely distant from your nervous system.  You could feel Troy’s jaw moving as he took blood, and he pulled away with a huff before licking over the wound.

“Gh, f-fuck-“  Troy’s face split open as he spit out the word.  

Troy was on the altar, hauling himself up to straddle you in one easy motion.  He looked down at you, arms caging you in on either side of your body; pupils blown huge, monstrous jaws hanging open.  All at once his head jerked downward, and he snapped his teeth into your torso with a wet cracking noise.

You body jumped a little at the impact, and you felt the crunch of bone vibrate through your chest.  Troy pulled back, jagged teeth raking through your flesh easily, and you could see broken shards of white in the gore he held between his fangs.  He snapped his jaws, getting a better grip on the meat to swallow it, barely a second passing before he was burying his face back in your ribs. Troy ripped and tore like a feral animal, panting for breath between mouthfuls of you; all the while you could do nothing but lay there, impassive; obedient.

“Weeeell look who’s having a good time!  Hope you Elpis-tier followers are enjoying my brother chowing down on this snackrifice we’ve got here today!”  Tyreen.  You tilted your head to the side, vision bouncing a little as Troy ate.  She was swaying in, speaking to the cambot that had pulled out to get a larger shot of her apparently-scripted entrance.  “Sometimes, you just want a break from the howls of agony- hard to believe, I know! But who doesn’t love options!  And really, who can argue with a sweet little offering who knows how to give their flesh so well?  I mean, just look at that!”

Tyreen strolled closer, giving you a smile; your muddled brain couldn’t tell if it was soft or mocking.  She put her hands on the altar, and Troy let out a snarl from somewhere inside your chest.

“How’re you doin, sweetie?”  She cooed, leaning over your face and ignoring her twin’s predatory growl. “Fuck you smell good.  Cut that last bit out Troy.”  

He gave an agreeing mutter in response, before pulling up, exhaling sharply.

“Ahh god Ty can you f-feel how much energy they’re gi-giving off?”  His speech was almost incomprehensibly slurred between the split jaws and the blood and muscle dripping from his mouth.  

“Mhh, yeah.  They’re from that stripped eridium mine, right?”  You could feel Tyreen probing at the deep bite in your shoulder.

You mumbled softly, unable to form words. She raised her fingertips to her mouth to lick your blood from them.

Troy’s too-long tongue slid over his left jaw, long enough to wrap around the edge.  He groaned quietly, a strange purring vibration to the sound.  “They gotta be.”  He dipped back down, unable to keep his fangs off you for too long.

Tyreen was leaning in too, eyes drifting shut.  Her lips made contact with the blood still pulsing from your shoulder in a soft kiss, before she too was running her tongue over your skin. Her fingertips met your chin, tilting your head to the side to give her some room.  Teeth, less sharpened than her brother’s but still capable of breaking skin, bit into an untouched spot with a satisfied hum.

“Hhhg, ffuckin get your own.”  Troy’s voice was muffled, barely lifting his head from your body.  

She didn’t respond, but they both seemed content to stop bickering and lose themselves in your blood.  You were drifting, detached.  It wasn’t how you thought you were going to end up dying, but all things considered, it could be a lot worse.  At least you got preened and pampered before being torn apart by some monstrous sirens.

The distinct pressure and sound of another rib crunching away brought you out of your musings.  It struck you how far up he was; how many bones he had already snapped through. You mustered enough strength to open your eyes and look down at the surreal sight of Troy, half his face buried in your cracked open chest.

His eyes, thin rings of pale blue around dilated pupils, met yours. He lifted himself, blood hanging in strings between his face and your torso.  

Troy spoke.  You couldn’t hear a word of it.  Just a muted drone of sound as your vision wavered in and out of focus.  You were so tired.  He reached to your face, running a hand over your cheek.  He was so warm. You couldn’t help but let your head flop to the side, into his touch.

Tyreen- you had just about forgotten she was there until she pulled away from you, feeling like she had always meant to be at your throat, draining the life from you so gently.  She said something.  Even so close to your ear, you couldn’t understand the deadly-sweet words.

You let your eyes close.  You let go.

  ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Awake.  You were awake.  You shouldn’t be awake.

You were lying down, on a…a bed.  You shifted around, shocked to find all your limbs attached and no gaping hole in your abdomen.  

“Ha!  Bet you’re surprised to be alive!  I try to keep the healing stuff on the down-low, don’t really want the whole fam asking me for favors.”  Tyreen’s voice made you bolt upright.  Something around your neck jingled.

You reached up, grabbing at the source of the noise-

“You like it?  Troy’s idea, thought it was cute.”  A little bell was hanging from the collar around your throat.

You brought your eyes up to Tyreen, almost scared to look directly at her.  You’d heard about how she liked to toy with people, how volatile she could be, and it felt like you were being tricked right now.

“You, uh, you aren’t gonna…kill me?”  You said something to her you spoke to this godlike siren-

Tyreen grinned.  She reached out to you, tattoos flaring light, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of being drained to a crystalline husk in a second.  Instead, Tyreen Calypso booped your nose.

“You taste too way good to only have once, pet.”

[woosey-woo-shitposts]

Guns and Roses

(Obey Me! Mafia!AU)

This au's concept originated from this user

Parts of this storyline are loosely inspired by Mafiatell (An Undertale Mafia AU) written by Staringback, adapted into a comic by Cutthroat-Jutsu which was later voice-dubbed by Vade.

------------

This narrative was written in first person to minimize the use of MC's pronouns for your enjoyment, however I ask you pardon any errors because I am inexperienced in this writing style.

As a matter of fact, I loathe it. But I wanted to make this a fun read. I did this for you.

------------

"You have got to be kidding me!" I snarled as I observed the wrinkled notice in my hands. Of course, the one time I get a good night's sleep, my landlord gives me a demand to pay extra for this month's rent! That was my biggest pet peeve: when they demanded money but never chose to specify WHY. As far as I knew, this wasn't a matter of protection fees, this was him taking advantage in the cruel world we all lived in.

I can't wait to get out of this town. Every cop, politician, or anyone else in some position of power was corrupted by selfish desire. As for me? I'm just someone living on my lonesome in a piece-of-crap apartment on a singer's wage. Oh-- yeah. I sing and dance if the price is right. If you dress nice and pile on enough make-up, you might make it out here. Unfortunately, I never made it past the low-life bars that paid a somewhat survivable wage. Now I had to lose all my leftover money on this in order to not get kicked out by my greedy landlord. My friends taught me to never respect someone who wears sunglasses indoors! What a mess...

I know what you might be thinking: "why not find another place to stay?" And my answer is-- this is the cheapest place around--even with that "living fee" my landlord was forcing me to pay IN ADDITION to this month's rent! Yeah, I still haven't forgotten about it! Thanks to a certain gang that controlled the area, it was hard to find a living space that didn't put you in debt because of the additional "protection fee" that all tenants were charged. All this city cared about were money and power and control. Sometimes they went hand-in-hand.

After a few moments of pacing, I finally went to my room to pick out some clothes for tonight's gig. That was the best I could do for now.

------------

Heavy on the eyeshadow, bright red on the lipstick. That's what the club owner asked for before I retreated into the bathroom to apply it all. If I had a say, I'd be going without the skimpy flapper girl dress, but that's what they wanted. For whatever reason, though, the club owner seemed more... tense than usual. I've seen low-life thugs and lesser members of the local gang in this club during my past performances, so it couldn't be that. What if it was someone more important...?

"Showtime in 10, darling~!" The owner hollered from the changing room door, snapping me from my thoughts as abruptly as they arrived in my head. He was attractive to say the least, although I could go without them opening the door and leering in. It was almost like they were trying to sneak a peek at me every time. Even if that wasn't bothering me, I felt this knot twisting in my gut, telling me that something big was going to happen tonight as I fixed up my hair to the best of my ability.

I could hear my shoes clicking against the wood flooring as I approached the stage. To my right was a small jazz crew: a trumpet, and a saxophone player... although one looked to be a kid in height, especially with how his blonde hair was styled. He looked far too short for the clarinet he was playing. The other gentleman was tall and muscular with darker skin. He also had a calming air about him, like a long lost friend of mine. To my left was someone on the piano, cracking his knuckles and poising his hands over the ivory keys. I've never seen him before. He was slender with white hair, but I couldn't see his face from where I stood as I adjusted the height of the microphone. However, my attention was drawn to the the pianist that stood from his post to investigate who was standing in the crowd.

------------

"Would you look at that?" A gentle, yet playful voice uttered before he turned to face me. He was tall, probably 5'11, with steely gray eyes and pale skin that was almost as white as his hair. Of course, I wanted to introduce myself, but my attention was drawn to the slightly parted curtains he was peeking through.

I squinted out at the dimly lit bar, scanning the tables. As I suspected: there were mostly low-life criminals drinking their worries away, however I noticed a menacing aura wafting from a far corner of the room.

Draped in shadow, there looked to be three men whose eyes seemed to glow with an inhuman glint. The first man seemed to be the tallest out of the three: dressed in a jarring red suit with a black tie and a golden chain linking his collar and his suit. His hair surprisingly looked even redder than the clothes on his back. Then there were his eyes, glowing like yellow-hot coals that matched the shimmering gold chains he wore.

On the far end of the table was a slender looking gentleman wearing a mint green jacket over a black vest. His eyes were shimmering emeralds, although I was more focused on how he patiently was sitting by, more focused on their surroundings than the men he was sitting with.

To his left--sitting between him and the man in red--was another man, sitting barely as tall as the first, yet sharing the same if not a more menacing aura than the figure in red. He had a more standard looking suit with a red vest and tie with a black suit jacket resting on his shoulders. His hair was black, swooped partially to one side more than the other with a hint of silver fading from the tips. I also took notice of his black gloves. He must've gotten his hands dirty in the past. Then there were his eyes. Those eyes were a shade of red that almost blended into the lighting of the room from what I could see from the curtain. Even so, I could feel a sudden piercing sensation when I felt like I was being watched. Before I could figure it out, I hastily closed the curtains and returned my attention to the pianist.

"That... that was Diavolo, wasn't it?" I questioned with a quiver of my lip. I heard that the gang leader of this area was a man who dressed in red as to hide how much blood covered his hands.

"Wow, even small town singers know him?" The man questioned in a teasing tone.

I narrowed my gaze at him in a cold glare. "Know /of/ him. I've never seen him in person, let alone pictures of him."

The pale man shrugged off my glare, keeping an almost foxlike arrogance about his demeanor. "Well, consider yourself lucky if you survive the night. Rumor has it his gaze can curse the weak of mind."

Right when I parted my lips to snap back at him with something- that club owner called from behind us.

"Get in position, you four!" He said in a hushed shout, signaling for the performers to get ready to start their number.

I bit my lip with growing anxiety before the club owner waved at me from back stage before offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing what seemed to be "break a leg". All I could do was nod curtly to acknowledge it until the curtains swung apart, temporarily blinding me with the stage lights.

------------

I had to admit, these musicians had talent. It was easy to keep in pace with them through the first number. As I removed the microphone from its stand, I danced about, letting my clothes sway about until the crowd cheered and called out to me. Even so, I felt that knot in my stomach. As my motions slowed, I noticed Diavolo and the other two men looking my way... whispering. It left me unsettled.

My dancing slowed to a stop as I returned to my spot by the microphone stand, but I kept with the upbeat tempo until the song ended. Those catcalls and whistles erupted into proud cheering where I stood. Still, my gaze fixated on those three figures, my gaze briefly locking with Diavolo's as a quiet gulp swallowed back my anxieties.

With a forced smile, I waved to the crowd. "I see a few unfamiliar faces tonight. I hope you enjoyed the music." I chuckled lightly to myself. "This next one is dedicated to a special guest tonight." Even though my body was fighting against a terrified tremor, my eyes met with those monsters again before winking in their direction.

------------

The crowd fell silent in appreciation of the next song, although, to a mixture of relief and fear, I saw Diavolo leave with his entourage of two. A few thoughts came to mind as the second and final song ended before the cheering became muffled behind a closed curtain.

"Bravo, darling~!" The owner rushed in to hug me, catching me off-guard. "Beautiful singing as always." He chimed as he twirled me about.

"Easy, Asmo." The saxophone player interjected, quickly separating me from the overexcited club owner. "A lot just happened. Give them some space."

The rosy-haired man blinked, taken aback by that remark. "If you insist. Darling, you're free to go. I left your pay in the changing room." He smiled in fake innocence as I walked past him and off the stage. In the corner of my eye, I saw Asmo glancing over his shoulder in... concern?... as I went backstage and back into that changing room.

------------

The room was pitch black when I stepped into it. Odd, I don't remember turning off the lights when I left to perform. I took a few steps into the room in order to find the light switch, using what little light that came in from the hall until--

Click...

My heart suddenly sank into my stomach the moment the door shut behind. Immediately afterwards, the light was switched on and a hand brought itself on my shoulder the moment I thought about running for the door I came through.

"I don't think so." A gentle voice mused. A side glance revealed a white silk glove gripping my shoulder. Even if it didn't look strong, my body refused to budge against it. Then, however, my attention was brought to a towering man in in a red and black suit. That tall, dark, and mysterious guy Diavolo was talking with. My heart was racing a mile a second as he stood up and approached me. Is this it? Is this how I die?! My eyes went wide as they locked with his.

The moment he brought his hand up to my chin, I let out a sharp gasp-- I couldn't help myself... I was scared for my life! I found myself tensing up as he forced me to look him in the eyes. Those dark red eyes were much more intimidating up close.

"Tell me, human." He began, voice deep and low. It wasn't even a whisper, but it was quiet enough to have the same effect on me. He tilted his head, glaring angrily down at me before he spoke. "Why were you looking at Lord Diavolo?"

TO BE CONTINUED

[deans-baby-momma]

Past Haunts-Winchesters Take Daytona

SURPRISE!!!! I had this since I finished Past Haunts but I kept it a secret so that I could post it as a Christmas gift to all my loyal readers. Hope you enjoy this little look into the life of Dean, Rebecca and Whitney!!!

It's been six months today. Six months since my daughter and I were getting ready for work and school when a simple knock on the front door changed everything. Changed it all, for the better.

To be able to watch from the sidelines as Whitney got to finally know the man who was her father; to finally experience having a male figure in her life was indescribable. 

Those two were like two peas in a pod, though. Similar likes, the same dislikes, an identical warped sense of humor. Once Dean had gotten over- no, that isn't the right wording-since Dean had come to terms with Sam being locked in a cage in Hell, he had jumped right into being a parent, a daddy. And he was killing it!

I hadn't expected to find him in the kitchen every morning, cooking breakfast for us before sending us both off with a kiss and I definitely never dreamed of coming home to a clean house, mowed lawn and that pesky back porch light repaired but during the first whole week of loving with us,  Dean had picked up the slack. I was amazed and very grateful.

Dean and I have slept in the same bed every night since his return but have yet to put a label on what we are. Although, Whitney happily tells anyone and everyone that her parents are together, I'm just unsure. And yes, we've had sex but then again what woman in her right mind could look at him, cuddle up to him and NOT want to have sex with him?

He had gotten a job at a local garage after the first month of being 'home' and had quickly impressed the boss with his knowledge of older vehicles. It seemed as though the mechanics now a days depended on the little computers installed in the newer models to alert them to whatever was wrong, so when older vehicles came across their rack, these young boys were stumped.

During the week after Thanksgiving, the city of Fairfax Indiana got its first snowfall. Everything looked so clean and fresh with the white blanket covering all the blemishes and eyesores around town. And that's the day we found out Dean Winchester doesn't like the cold.

"It's just-" Dean grumbled as he drank his coffee at the head of the table. "-so ridiculous. You have to wear extra layers, watch out for other idiots on the road. Watch where you step. And it's just so cold." He finishes his groaning with a full body shiver.

"Dad you sound like a whiny brat," Whitney banters as she eats her eggs and bacon. "It's wonderful! Everything looks so bright and shiny."

"I need sun and warmth missy," Dean shoots back with a wink. He suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. "Babe, how many days of school until our little girl is on holiday?"

Whitney humphs at being called a little girl, even though she knows Dean only does it to get a rise out of her. The smirk on his face tells me that is exactly the response he expected.

"Uh, nine. I think."

"Eight and a half," Whitney corrects me, standing up to take her plate to the sink. "And the half day is going to be mostly watching movies and not much else."

I look at Dean to see his mind whirling. I could tell he was trying to work something out in his head. I raise an eyebrow in question but only get a smile in response. I shake my head at his antics and stand up to go finish getting ready for work.

Christmas in Florida is distinctly opposite of Christmas in the North. For one, there is no snow for the lights to mirror. The lights are pretty but seem so dull without the reflection. And instead of coats and gloves and hats, people are in swimsuits and shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. A total 180 from what I'm used to in mid-December. I ponder the difference between the two as I lounge on the long beach chair beside Dean's as we watch Whitney frolic in the cool water.

Dean hasn't fully embraced the warmer temperatures as he is still in jeans and his usually two-shirt ensemble.  The only thing missing is the heavy work boots he usually dons; his feet are bare. The sunglasses on his face does little to hide the freckles that have made an appearance the darker his skin tans. I've laid in bed recently, counting the cute little misshapen dots. He is all smiles and happy. I love him so much!

When Dean had first suggested taking a trip down south for Christmas break I was astonished, Whitney was ecstatic. In her 13 year existence, this is the first full-fledged vacation we have ever taken so she was excited and enthusiastic about the chance to take a trip. And when she found out the destination, I didn't think she would survive the 17-hour trip without spending the whole time exploding with glee. Whitney and I spent my whole payday on a new wardrobe for the both of us, getting weird and bizarre looks from other shoppers as we tried to find t-shirts and shorts, bathing suits and sunscreen; during December in Indiana those items were few and far between. I also took a secret trip to the courthouse, getting the paperwork to officially make Whitney a Winchester. All it need is information and signatures from both parents. I plan to surprise Dean with them Christmas morning.

So far, this vacation has been fantastic. We have spent time as a family doing little things, like walking along the beach at sunset searching for seashells, playing mini-golf, spending the day in our hotel room watching old movies and cartoons when the weather took a turn for the worse. It has been a dream come true, something I had never in a million years thought would ever happen. 

Spending time with him and our daughter in what I dubbed as the most magical place on Earth. So what if we're not at Disney World, to me this is the most fascinating time and place; a week spent with my daughter and her father, the love of my life. Life couldn't get any better than this.

I am shaken from my daydreams as I hear Dean growl and begin throwing fictitious daggers with his eyes in the direction of the pool. I turn my head to see a group of teenage boys all surrounding Whitney, who is all smiles at the attention. 

"Calm down honey," I cajole. "We knew this would eventually happen. We can't expect her to be a nun."

"Those boys are too old for her," he defends. "They see an innocent, young girl like her and there's only one thing on their mind." He goes to get up and I reach over to place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Give it a minute," I tell him. "I've taught Whitney to take care of herself."

As Dean and I sit there I keep our daughter in my peripheral, just in case one of us needs to step in. Suddenly, Whitney yells out "Jerk!" and slaps the boy who looks to be the protagonist of the crew. I smile as I watch her climb out of the pool and walk toward us. She sits at my feet and wraps her towel around her shoulders.

"You okay darlin'?" her dad asks, his eyes still trained on the gang of boys. They just don't know how many different ways Dean Winchester could murder them and make them all disappear.

"Y-yea," she answers but I can tell she's lying. "They just said some things that weren't nice."

Dean finally turned his eyes toward his daughter, the dangerous glint replaced by concern.  "Baby girl, I can go have a talk with them, if you-"

"No Dean!" she says, standing up. "I don't need my father taking up for me. I'm not a baby!" As Whitney storms out of the pool area, Dean looks at me, at a loss.

"What did I do?"

I stand up and wrap the sarong around my bikini-clad body. "Just let me go talk to her, okay?" I have an idea what is going on and I know having her dad there I'd never get Whitney to open up. I lean down and kiss him and head in the direction our daughter had stomped off.

In the room, Whitney has thrown herself across her bed and is crying into the pillow.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I ask gently because if my suspicions were true, anything could cause her to fly off the handle.

"I don't know," she whines. "I was feeling okay and then all of a sudden, it's like my energy zapped. So I was just floating in the pool, hoping the ache would go away and then those boys came up and started talking to me. And I liked it," she explains as she sits up on the bed. "But then Kyle said something about me being pure and innocent when I told them how old I was and I just lost it. And then I jumped down Dad's throat and he probably hates me now!" She began crying again and I join her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and she places her head on my shoulder.

 "Oh baby," I console. "I think it's becoming that time. You're getting ready to start your first period."

She jerks her head up and looks at me. "Really?"

"Yea, we need to go get you some pads and Midol. You're going to start bleeding anytime."

"God, did I just ruin our first vacation?"

"No!" I claim. "You didn't ruin vacation at all, baby. Now, let's get cleaned up and run down the street to the store."

"Moooom! I can't leave the room! What if it starts before we get back?" I chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"Okay, okay." I reach over and grab my phone texting Dean to come up to the room. I roll my eyes as I remember the discussion he and I had almost 2 years ago. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be asking this of him but I can't leave my baby.

The look on his face was comical as I whispered my request. He looked terrified and afflicted at the thought of having to buy feminine products. I take screenshots of exactly what he needs to buy and send him on his way, but not before he insists that I remember promising him he would never have to do this particular task.

The rest of the vacation goes off without a hitch. Whitney does begin her first period and requests to spend the rest of our time in Florida in the hotel room, only going out to eat. Dean and I trust her enough to leave her in the room while we go out, exploring not only the beach but the little town we are in. Christmas morning comes and Whitney wakes us up with squeals of delight at the massive amount of presents placed under the decorated fake palm tree in our room.

Dean and I sit on the sofa, drinking coffee and enjoying the look of awe on our daughter's face as she opens her presents. Once finished, she winks at her dad and goes to her bag where she pulls a box from inside. Handing it to him, Whitney steps back as Dean slides off to the floor, getting on one knee.

My hand slaps over my mouth as he clears his throat. I have no idea what he says because my inner voice is chanting 'Oh my god! This can't be happening!' Finally my ears take over and I hear him ask, "Becks, will you marry me?" I nod through the tears and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He climbs back onto the couch and wraps his arms around me, only moving one around Whitney when she dog piles on top of us in excitement.

None of us know though, that when we return to Indiana  the past is going to come back to haunt us, in the form of Sam Winchester back from Hell.

Well, there ya go guys! A look into the life of the Winchesters. Hope you have enjoyed this little glimpse. As always, likes and comments are appreciated! And don’t forget to check out my new fic, Rebel Without A Cause, coming January 8th. Love to you all and Merry Christmas!!

@vickiq9761 @flamencodiva @mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @spnbaby-67 @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @larajadeschmidt13 @tftumblin @blacktithe7​ @lilulo-12​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @cpag7​ @austipoppa​

[unblinded-by-nostalgia-blog]

Unblinded by Nostalgia 300th Review SPECIAL!!!

IMPORTANT NOTE: This series spans volumes 5 - 9 of the manga series. I WILL be comparing this anime series to the original manga because many people will be saying that the manga is just as bad just because they have ONLY seen the anime. I will be reviewing the English Dub version.

Part 1 (Episodes 1-4)

The Story

The series starts crappy! With Yuki being pushed around by the fangirls. And bare in mind, NONE OF THIS CRAP IS IN THE MANGA! And the series brushes off the yaoi ending of the previous series like it never happened. WTF?

The story tries to a a bit of comedy relief, but it isn't funny whatsoever! And WTF is Yuki doing? Is she trying to seduce him!? And an emotional scene is destroyed by comedy relief! Is this series REALLY trying?

And finally, we follow the manga! And instead of a battle scene (like the manga), we get Zero and the other characters murdering one of the vampires who is just a messenger, even for Zero, that's out of character!

The story feels rushed, with the characters implying of Rido when he wasn't mentioned in the manga till much later!

And the episode goes through the ENTIRE 5th volume! This episode feels rushed beyond any reason!

Episode 2 starts with a flashback of the PREVIOUS EPISODE! God, I hate this anime already! We get a scene with the side characters and we get a bit of character development with Aido. This episode definitely follows the manga more then the previous episode. And they ruined a funny scene with Zero and his master. But that is the least of this anime's crimes. And this anime implies that one of the side characters is 'getting it on' with one of his relatives (CoughMother&greatUncleCough) why did the anime add that? Just why? And instead of one girl being offered to Kaname, ALL of the families offer their daughters to Kaname like his life dream is to have a harem! (Hint to another anime review coming soon!)

And now Kaname is seducing Yuki! And the anime following the manga, Kaname feels more and more like a hypocrite. If they just decided whether to just fallow it or not, it would of flowed easier, not a fucked up hybrid! And the episode ends with the anime going off the rails with another scene with the fangirls! This episode should of ended at the previous snow scene! That would of been a beautiful ending!

Episode 3 starts with a scene that isn't in the manga and is actually good! It shows Aido struggling with the truth is Suzuka's death! And we get a scene with Yuki's mental health going downhill and the scene is ruined by her class's president being a hypocritical bitch!

And I want to bring up another problem with this anime, the scenes are all jumbled up and moved around, making the flow all jagged and all over the place!

And the anime removed an important scene with Yuki and Zero, I won't give it away, but it is an important one.

We get a scene which isn't in the manga and is a new, interesting plot line with Aido and his cousin solving the mystery of Suzuka's death. And guess what else isn't in the manga? He has a MILF/Incest fetish with his mom!

We also learn about Aido's feelings towards Kaname, they add a marble in the anime as a symbol of there love, but the overall story is the same.

And then we get a finger job scene with Yuki and Zero, and Aido is understandably disgusted by seeing it. I wonder if sucking blood is equivalent to having sex in this anime...?

We get a scene with Zero warning Yuki not to become a Vampire, it's a very touching/bittersweet scene that isn't in the manga to end this episode.

We open episode 4 to the ending of volume 6, with Rido about to come back to life and revealing that Senri has Kuran blood in his bloodline, making him cousin to Kaname and Yuki.

We also skip a good chunk of volume 7 as well as adding filler that isn't in the manga and more unnecessary flashback scenes! And we see how jumbled up this series is because the next scene is near the beginning of volume 6!

In the original scene of page 109, Zero rubs Yuki's cheek gently to comfort her, in the anime, he hits her face. Is the anime Team Kaname for some reason?

The anime follows the manga during the scene where Yuki looks at the files of her past and then we get more flashbacks to the PREVIOUS SCENES!

But the rest of the episode follows the manga. Until the last minute which has Kaname warning Aido not to investigate further in his investigation. And we end with Takuma meeting a possessed Senri.

The Characters

Everyone seems out of character! Yuki is a weak damsel in distress, Zero's a whip and Kaname is a hypocrite! But we get a bit of development with Aido in episode 2 and episode 3.

The Animation/Special Effects

The characters walk like they are constipated! They move so stuffily. The characters rarely move at all and the backgrounds look dull. And when they zoom into the characters' eyes, they look dead and lifeless... It makes some emotional scenes unintentionally hilarious!

The Dub

The dub is the only positive thing I can really say about this anime, it is well done and the actors did well with what they were given.

The script follows the manga almost word for word, but the written word sometimes doesn't sound right when spoken and vice-versa and you can tell that some of the lines feel forced without reading the manga!

Final Thoughts

Overall, this anime was borderline PAINFUL to watch! The story is a mess, the characters are out of character and the animation looks stiff and lifeless! And we have 9 episodes to go... God help me!

The Story 2/5 The Characters 2/5 The Animation/Special Effects 2/5 The Dub 3/5

Overall 2/5

Part 2 (Episodes 5-7)

The Story

The beginning of episode 5 has Yuki hallucinating some more. Ok, we get it! Her mind's going downhill! The manga used it sparingly, this just goes OVERKILL, And then... More unfunny filler, and Master Cross acts really mean spirited which is really out of character for him.

We get a lot of scenes in episode 5 that are not in the manga and that is just FILLER! It seems like that only Aido is the only character they got right in this manga with the extra scenes they added.

The anime says the Zero wanted Ichiru to come to the day class. Why? They hate each other! This series has so many plot holes that it is hard to keep up with them all! And the pacing is sooo sloooow! First they rush, then they slowed down. Why couldn't they keep it at a constant pace?

Episode 6 starts at the beginning of chapter 33 of the manga, but the scene is so rushed in the anime, I wonder why they bothered adding this scene at all!

After the opening credits, the anime follows the manga... Then suddenly adds a joke out of nowhere and if doesn't make any sense whatsoever!

Why is the anime showing us so many flashbacks scenes? It gets REALLY Annoying! And the anime skips ANOTHER important scene with Yuki and Zero! Why?

And then we get a creepy scene with Ichiru going into the first aid room where Yuki is sleeping. And this scene has no purpose to the plot! And then... COMEDY RELIEF THAT ISN'T EVEN FUNNY!!!

We get a lot of scenes in this episode that does not progress or have anything to do with the story!

Episode 7 begins with Yuki having more flashbacks and Kaname trying to kill 'Senri'. At least this episode starts promisingly...

We get more scene that are exclusive to the anime and is just FILLER!!! And we get a creepy (almost) rape scene with 'Senri' and Ruka that isn't anywhere in the manga. Why does the anime keep adding scenes which doesn't progress the plot in anyway. They add plot holes and make this anime BORING TO SIT THROUGH!!!

And at the end of the episode, we get the controversial scene where Yuki becomes a vampire and finds out that Kaname is her older brother...

The Characters

The characters keep acting out of character and it makes it feel like they all have bi-polar.

The Animation/Special Effects

First thing I will mention is What the fuck is up with Ichiru's character design? His hair is long, yes, but not long enough to tie it back with a ponytail which is tied poorly with a bell!

Another thing, in one scene in episode 6, Kaname mentions that he has brought snacks with him. But there are NO SNACKS ANYWHERE in this scene, or this episode in general! How lazy can the animation (and this anime) get? And plus, this anime recycles footage from the previous series and the earlier episodes of this sequel!

Some of the music in some of the scenes don't match with the tone of the scene, such as a comical scene having emotional music.

The animation in this series is still bad and feels like it's got a low frame rate and the characters are as stiff as hell when they walk or move in general!

The Dub

The dub is still solid, but it still suffers from the same problems as before and Yuki sounds like she has a sore throat half the time.

Final Thoughts

Overall, this series is getting worse by the minute! But its biggest flaw is that it is BORING! Even as its own anime, you will be bored as NOTHING happens! And we have 2 more parts to go... Oh boy!

The Story 1.5/5 The Characters 2/5 The Animation/Special Effects 1.5/5

Overall 1.5/5

Part 3 (Episodes 8-10)

The Story

The anime explains Yuki and Kaname's relation to one another, but it is very poorly done and makes people who haven't read the manga think this is a cleche incest plot line, but it however, more complex then that. I won't explain it hear because it has MAJOR SPOILERS to the manga.

The episode 8 begins with following the manga well, explaining Yuki's backstory and childhood, and how did Yuki's hair get so long, even in the manga its never explained.. But then... Filler ahoy for the REST OF THE EPISODE with uninspired fight scenes!!!

Episode 9 follows the manga. But they have toned down the gore of Rido's dead body. And then they change from the original again with Zero loosing his sanity. Why? I don't know... But they do show that Haruka and Juri's love for each other before they died.

We get a battle scene where the enemies die in ONE HIT! And they toned down the blood as well! Why? They made the battle scenes boring and the characters don't struggle to defeat the enemies!

In the next scene, Zero struggles to get out of prison. In the manga however, he just sits despairingly. The anime makes Zero like a beast who hates his master, while in the manga, he respects him.

Episode 10 follows the manga again by having Aido explain to Yuki that she will be more sensitive to different smells (such as blood). And then we get another unfunny scene where the day class evacuate the school, and a girl forgets her teddy bear... NOT FUNNY!

And we get more battle scenes and the enemies still die in ONE HIT! BORING!!! And the anime decides that Yuki cannot fight, even though she is one of the most POWERFUL VAMPIRES IN THIS SERIES!!! And we get EVEN MORE FILLER with a pointless fight scenes with the other vampire hunters and Yagari. But we do get a sweet bromance scene with Ichijo and Senri.

Wait... How is Shizuka talking to Yuki, even though she is dead! And this scene is NOT IN THE MANGA and WHAT DOES HER TALKING TO YUKI HAVE TO DO WITH THE STORY?

The Characters

The characters aren't acting how they are in the manga... Oh fuck it... Nothing will stop this anime now...

The Animation/Special Effects

The animation still looks stiff and lifeless. The only thing good about this series is the music. It's just beautiful, but it's the same music as the first series!

The Dub

The dub is still very well done, you can tell that they did a great job with what they had, but the lines STILL feel forced!!!

Final Thoughts

Overall, this anime has no hope of redeeming itself. It cannot possibly get any worse then this can it?

The Story 1.5/5 The Characters 1.5/5 The Animation/Special Effects 1.5/5 The Dub 2.5/5

Overall 2/5

Part 4 (Episodes 11-13)

The Story

Episode 11 is just an extended, boring version of chapter 40. With uninspired action scenes that serve nothing but FILLER and a vampire orgy! I wish I was kidding...

The problem is that they drag the emotional scene drag for far too long. You see, if you make an emotional scene too long, you get emotionally fatigued and you get bored by the scene.

Episode 12 begins with a young Kaname and Yuki looking through a picture book. Ok... Does it have anything to do with the story? NOPE! And they have made Yuki into a weakling! And they have said 'fuck you' to the manga and the anime wants to go its own way, and it's so BORING!

And the battle with the ultimate vampire hunter happens OFF SCREEN!! And we are stuck with the bore brigade going to the vampire orgy!

And just when Yuki becomes a hero, but she ends up get captured again... Yay...

Then, we get a battle scene with Takuma and his father. Which happens off screen and we NEVER see Ichijo again. What happened to him?

Episode 13 ends with the final battle. Not with Yuki and Zero, but Kaname and Zero and Rido takes an a 'Amazing' total of three hits to kill. And the rest of the episode takes FOREVER to end, but it doesn't answer all the questions lift in the anime, leaving an empty shell to fill for season 3 that will NEVER be made.

The Characters

The characters have all turned into weaklings! Yuki is a damsel in distress! Zero's a yes man and Kaname is a hypocrite! The side characters aren't much different either...

The Animation/Special Effects

The animation is dull, stiff and boring to look at. The battle scenes are either off screen or the enemies die in one hit!

And is it me, or does the ending credits song sound like a bad ending theme for a visual novel.

The Dub

The dub for this anime is still good, but the lines feel so forced at times that it makes it really distracting.

Final Thoughts

Overall, these last few episodes are bad! The story is a joke, the characters are bland and the animation is dull!

The Story 1/5 The Characters 1/5 The Animation/Special Effects 2/5 The Dub 2/5

Overall 1.5/5

Overall Thoughts

Overall, this is the WORST anime adaptation to a manga I have ever seen in my life! The story is a mess, the characters are now bland as paper and the animation and music is lazy!

Many people have been asking for a season 3 of the anime. But do they really want to rematch the anime and see how bad it actually is! How did this anime get a sequel?

Honestly, just go and read the manga! Just go!

Part 1 2/5 Part 2 1.5/5 Part 3 2/5 Part 4 1.5/5

Overall 1.7/5

[092219archive]

i’ve been meaning to make this post for a while and i kept forgetting... but this was all that was on my mind today so i’m gonna try to get it out.

i actually have some things planned for chaldea eren because i was hit with this weird burst of inspiration, which i wish would come around more often but i’d guess it’d lose it’s touch if it did come around so frequently.

originally, i was trying to write a little fanfiction of sanson confronting eren after training, because eren put a lot of time and materials into sanson to make him stronger. but i don’t imagine sanson to believe that he’s really worthy of that time and attention, especially considering his past. he killed a whole bunch of people, even innocents, so there’s no way he doesn’t feel guilty.

he’d meet up with eren in the dead of the night just to ask them, “why?” and eren would respond with, “i don’t know.” that response would confuse him because they spent so much time working with him yet they didn’t even know why they did what they did. master, who was always so tactical and resourceful...

eren would then explain a little further, saying, “i think it’s because i say myself in you.” and that’s an even stranger response, because... he hasn’t seen master kill a person, ever. he’s only ever recalled seeing master command servants to eliminate their enemies, but never... master themselves.

but then i stopped there, because this was something that was running through my head for a while but i don’t think i’ve ever made it public.

see, the thing with chaldea eren is that they’re... fate eren. you know, the original karnalover13. it almost sounds like i’m making an excuse to pardon the fact that they look the exact same but honest to god, it’s not LOL

and i already knew that i wanted to bring fate eren into f/go either by some weird reincarnation stuff, or literally dragging them into chaldea. that angst comic i made was actually based off this idea, where fate eren’s memories were basically "given” into chaldea eren’s memories but not. exactly.

i don’t know if anyone noticed (or if anyone could have noticed because my sketches are so messy), but eren in the first page is straight up fate eren, not chaldea eren with longer hair and an outfit change (although you could technically say that it is chaldea eren based on what i’ve already typed up). chaldea eren in the third page is, i guess to some extent, fate eren except... dragged into chaldea and dubbed “the master of this chaldea.” that’s why they have the shorter hair and they wear the chaldea combat uniform, and not their older/former outfit. this is oddly difficult to explain.

and asked nobody ever: “what are you trying to say, eren?” not even i know.

like i mentioned earlier, chaldea eren is fate eren and vice versa. but how did they get there is something i never had an elaborate explanation for.

i was thinking that maybe they died during the holy grail war in trifas, but were reborn as a chaldean master. how does that make sense? i don’t know, but it was a neat concept.

another idea was that they somehow won the holy grail, but the grail went apeshit, and they were suddenly reborn as the chaldean master. how does that make sense? not sure, but it was half-assed so i didn’t really put much thought into it.

but then i thought: well, if fate eren’s father had access to the newest technology, would he have had access to the pods that had the potential masters sleep in? and that’s a bit of a stretch, but insertia did take place in a timeskip after the first holy grail war that happened there within trifas. maybe the technology wasn’t that advanced, and maybe apocrypha was held way too long ago to truly be allowed access to the modern machinery, but fate eren’s father’s organization isn’t really based in trifas... there’s a chance, basically. a stretch, but it’s not entirely impossible, i feel.

and i think just like how it was in extra/ccc/the titles with hakuno, their data was transported into chaldea’s database as a candidate for “potential masters.” how they retrieved the physical body is either through transportation or they created a false being, but creating a false being wouldn’t be super good for the plotline of f/go so i don’t think i’ll incorporate that. whether it was fate eren’s decision to be sent there is something i’m still working out.

while in chaldea, chaldea eren doesn’t remember whatever happened in trifas. i think they’d only remember vital information like biological stuff (their name, height, weight, etc.), maybe who their father was and what he did, but not whatever happened in the grail war. but sometimes, they’d get dreams of someone extremely familiar, participating in a war in a place they don’t recall ever seeing or been there yet feeling nostalgic, watching this person take out their targets, and servants... fighting? and they’d probably wake up having thoughts like “i’ve never been there, so who could these people be? why am i dreaming of things like this?”

and i think those connections with the servants that they’ve had in trifas would remain, since feelings don’t really... go, unless you deliberately trash them but even then, you’re still kind of... familiar to them. karna, arjuna, ozymandias ー they’d remain, and some of their time in singularities is finding out “we’ve loved each other in the past before, which is why we’re so familiar with each other even if we just met” kinda deal. and meeting people like kiritsugu and cu, found family, was a major relief for chaldea eren since fate eren spent so much of their time alone.

and speaking of singularities, a lot of it is spent dealing with them to correct the course of humanity, but it’s also finding out that “i’m not just some master of chaldea. i’m a murderer.” their weird dreams, things maybe romani or da vinci said, people and servants they’ve met ー they all lead them to realize that they’ve lived another life before this one.

the fact that fate eren was a murderer to do whatever it took to win the grail for their father, the fact that they did feel guilty even if they couldn’t outwardly show it, knowing they were in the wrong but knowing that they’ll never forget how to pull the trigger no matter what they do... and that’s why chaldea eren has a soft spot for sanson.

“i was there once, you know.”