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#two people who feel disgusting and inhuman find each other and at the very least they don't have to be alone anymore
batvvvvv · 8 months
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love these 2 with all my heart theyre crazy. infodump incoming
ivy and jon met in college about 18 years before the plot starts (ages 18 and 19 respectively) they were both like, intense and unsettling and as traumatized gay people do they kind of gravitated towards each other. jonathan broke his pen one time and asked pamela if he could borrow one and they just kind of ... never stopped talking. they've been inseperable since
jon was ivy's first friend not made out of neccessity, and pam was jonathan's first friend period. they are absolutely ride or die for each other.
they moved in together after a year to split rent, and despite still being Incredibly fucked up it was both of their first taste of normal life. or as normal as gotham can be idk. living the queer codependent best friends lifestyle !!! something almost like happiness
jonathan did sell drugs out of their apartment for a few months to make ends meet but that Definitely has no impact on his future later! haha! anyway
then they graduated! jon got a job in psychiatry and moved out; ivy stayed and took a job at arkham in the infirmary, where she meets harley. and while pam became more bitter and jaded at the horrible things she witnessed in arkham, jonathan got fired for tormenting a patient, spiralled completely into his obsession with fear and created the first version of his fear toxin. he was arrested and sent to blackgate (and then arkham a week later), then 6 months later ivy was arrested for blowing up a factory, and sent to blackgate.
they didnt speak for the next year and a half. jon continued to isolate himself and spiral, landing himself in arkham once or twice a month at a certain point, while pam got unhealthily fixated on taking down the corrupt in gotham, getting herself into her own fair share of trouble. both of them get to a breaking point around the same time-- forced to face their own actions and the consequences they bring.
so pamela escapes prison again and decides to lay low: gets an apartment under a fake name, and begins to plan her next operations more carefully. somewhere along the way harley moves in with her (after being ditched and left to fend for herself by the joker) and things are Okay !
jonathan's road to recovery (if you can really call it that he's still fucked up and crazy) is a little more explosive and insane but he ends up on ivy's doorstep, dripping wet and covered in blood, and asks to come in. despite everything she lets him stay! (i've written a fic for this that i'll share sometime if i can figure out how 💔)
and they've been keeping each other alive for the 15 years since! they're mean as hell to each other but also they would do anything for eachother. never underestimate the bond betw two fucked up and evil gay people
yeah i love these two so much . most annoying best friends ever !!!!!
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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years
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attraction |  hs vampire au
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moodboard made by me so don’t use pls
Pairing: Vampire!Harry x NewbornVampire!Reader
Warnings: major mention of blood, basically a slow burn with sexual tension/teasing, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up before ya tap it), kids), voyeurism, oral (f receiving) and so much more, fluff and a tiny bit of angst
Word count: 10.9k (oops)
A/N: well... hi again? i guess?? 🙃 back from the dead agaaaain 🙌🏻 okay but i had a major writer block since my last one shot and oof, was it tough... but now i’m back! more relax and feeling inspired for halloween? so hope you will enjoy this special oneshot about one of my fav brit boys ❤️💞
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Somewhere near London, UK – year unknown.
Tonight was probably the worst one you ever experienced in your life – well, afterlife –, aside from being turned into a monstrous blood creature against your will just a few months ago. Despite your new inhuman abilities, the mob running and screaming after you still gains ground since you’re leaving a most vivid trail for them to follow.
Though your heart no longer has a normal pulse it feels as if each thump is excruciating pain. The obvious reason might be because you haven't been able to feed yourself properly since you've been... reborn. And so very little human blood was running through your veins because you couldn’t seem to control the hypnosis power. That’s why you’ve been sticking to animal blood but if you were honest, it didn’t give your body the same strength.
Now your body starts to grow heavier by the minute, along with a most painful throb to your fangs that threatens to turn you into a mindless monster that will slaughter aimlessly just to get fed. But that's not what you want. No. No. It may have been four or maybe five months since you could no longer be considered as normal, but still you thought of yourself as a human. And hurting any human was just not conceivable at all for you. You just couldn’t... But sometimes, even the biggest will in the world wasn’t enough anymore.
I feel so sick, I can't go on much longer...
If only these damn hunters knew I wasn't going to kill anyone...
All I wanted was some of her blood because she was alone... just a little bit...
Tears form in the corner of your eyes, feeling like a lost and hopeless child despite being in your twenties. Though you suppose you won’t age anymore now? Or maybe age in such a slow manor you will not be able to see the changes until dozens of years pass. You have no idea at all. The person whom turned you didn't even care to explain a damn thing and just left saying it would be “quite amusing to watch you struggle”.
Your fangs grit in anger just by remembering all this, remembering how and why you could have been so naive – stupid being the right word actually. Willing the tears away you jump into the nearest centenary oak on the side and climb as high as you possibly can. The leaves and branches obscure most of your body, making it easier to hide yourself as you wait in breathless silence for several long minutes. The humans bellow carry guns and crossbows, even torches with blistering fires waving in the cool British wind so hiding from them is definitely the best solution here.
They seem confuse at losing sight of you and your tracks, but the conversation you pick up with your improved hearing foretells how they believe you're still in the area. A tall man with a buff body and dirty blond hair seems the most knowledgeable and well prepared as he dictates how everyone should fan out to cover more space.
Sweat is now dripping all over your body in a way that lets you know your consciousness is going to fade if you don't feed yourself soon. So you use the little strength you have left to escape their sight, silently crawling from a branch to another to reach the next tree. Your senses are becoming dull as well and you know by now you’ll never be able to put up much of a fight if they spot you.
Since there is no one around right now, you decide it may be the best opportunity to climb down and try to get further away into the forest. However, you barely make it to the ground, crunching some leaves beneath your feet before a bullet was fired directly at you. With the quickest slam of your body to the ground, you avoid being hit. For the moment, at least.
“Don't let her get away!”
“Shoot her down! She's weak now!”
Your head shakes, body shivering in a sense of mixed cold and fear, hearing dozens of weapons getting loaded before bullets and arrows start whizzing your way, thanks the lords most of them missing you due to your astute senses. Like blondie said, you are now really weak and can’t help but fail to avoid all of them as one wooden arrow pierces through your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the floor with a screech of pain.
It hurts more than you expected it to, but you grit your teeth and yank it from your skin in one motion. The wound may not be that deep but you can feel blood oozing down your back, staining the fabric of your long dress. After forcing yourself to stand you try to keep running, but after a few steps your body succumbs to your fatigue and falls, noticing the humans have now formed a pretty wide circle around you to cut off every single path possible to escape.
If you weren't this weak and starving for blood, you could fight them off and get away but at this moment, that’s completely impossible. A man with long black hair approaches, extending his hand forward as he’s holding out a wooden cross. The closer he gets the more a headache pounds inside your head, causing you to hiss in agony, tears swelling in your eyes and claws scratching the muddy ground.
Is this the end?
I never got to really live...
I never got to properly love... Love in a way that was true and fulfilling.
A tear slides down your cheek but it's too late. Everyone readies their crossbows and guns to fire at the behest of the long raven haired man. Both of your eyes immediately clench shut, preparing for your upcoming death...
But it never came.
Suddenly, screams and several wet crunches invade your ears while your eyelids slide open the moment you feel an imposing shadow looming over your body. A broad but not too bulky back comes into view as you note a peculiar style of clothing, the vivid red suit they wear contrasting with the dark surrounding of the London outskirt. However the smell of fresh blood rushes through your nostrils, causing your eyes to pulsate and your fangs to throb hungrily.
“How dare you filthy humans attack one of my kind.”
A deep unfamiliar voice penetrates your skull, making you lift your head and discover a tall man with dark wavy hair. He slightly turns towards you, sending you a stoic yet piercing type of glare with intense scarlet pupils that causes goosebumps to bubble all over your body. You have no idea who he is but you can feel in your guts that not only he is indeed a vampire as well but that he's extremely powerful, as demonstrated from the way he dismembers two humans with the vicious dart forward and jerk of his hands. The corpses join the other four on the floor who you discover have their heads decapitated in a clean swipe, no jagged edging to the flesh around their torsos.
The imagery is whiteout a doubt disgusting to even look at, but it's even more appalling that all you can think about is how delicious all this river of bloody disaster smells and how exquisite it would be sliding down you throat. You start to salivate heavily with the madness of hunger, the extreme sensation almost completely overwhelming you but you try your best to hold yourself at bay.
“I didn't expect to see ya again thi' soon, Harry...” your blonde pursuer sighs, his facial expression clearly showing that now, tables have turned.
“I don't want to hear it" interrupts your saviour (at least you hope he is?), his intimidating hoarse voice bringing chills to everyone – you included – while still in front of you. “Leave right now, Niall or I won’t hesitate to rip off y’head too.”
The man named Harry flares all ten of his claws to life, also baring his fangs to definitely reveal that nothing of this was just for show. “'m sick of you killing my people. If they're slaughtering the humans, it would be different but this one–” He turns pointing his finger at you, “this girl hasn't killed anyone. I can smell it... You're chasin' her down for no reason.”
“T-That's not– she was attacking someone, dat's why she got caught–”
"If you speak one more word to me that isn't beggin' for your life followed by leaving, I'll rip all of your limbs before I even go for y’head.”
Harry and Niall stare each other down, the tension as shape as a knife. The human may know how to counter his vampire foe but in all likelihood with most of their numbers dead or bleeding to death, he's aware that right now he has not a single chance. And once again, cohabitation seems the only way to get out of here in one piece (hopefully).
“Fine... we'll be goin'. I know thi’ is yar territory mate, we crossed da border” Niall apologises, a hand over his chest and a small bow before telling his fellow hunters to retreat back to the city.
Though Harry isn't usually happy about letting humans go his posture is finally relaxing a bit, claws retracting as he death glares everyone down until they are no longer insight.
With a long and heaved sigh he fully turns around, finding you holding your head and gritting your fangs in disarray. It's quite clear you are probably not even aware of your surroundings, the blood shot vessels in your eyes telling the brunette your current state of hungriness. As soon as he's by your side in a blink of an eye, he bends down on his knees in front of you, pushing your own hands away so he can clutch your cheeks.
“Calm down, dear, relax your mind. Open your mouth and let me see your fangs, please.”
Though you whimper in uncertainty, that man in front of you is after all the vampire that slaughtered those humans to save you. So you still let him give a look at your small white fangs, your whole jawbone hurting as if you just got punched right in the face.
“I see they haven't grown completely... You must’ve been turned recently, am I right?”
Harry seems slightly angry, though you're not entirely sure it's directed at you but more at his findings. When he pulls back, you follow his body as he grabs a nearby severed arm and brings it back to you. His brows raise in surprise, not expecting this reaction when you whine and push it away, clearly disgusted by it.
“There’s no time to be picky anymore, darling. Y'need to stop thinkin' you're still human, so drink the blood.”
Your head slowly raises, panting as you stare right into his most mesmerising green eyes, some scarlet red from before still outlining his pupils, with your own sorrow filled orbs. Though Harry knows what that look represents, he could hold no sympathy for your lost humanity as he delicately brushes his hand through your hair before pushing the flesh into your mouth for your own good.
It only takes a second for your fight to disappear, the taste of blood that your veins and taste buds have longed for these last weeks finally flowing in your system. Like a wild beast your fangs sink deeper into the arms flesh, sucking and gulping greedily until it's nothing but a shrivelled and discolored severed limb.
The older vampire watches your irises glow with the brightness of your eye colour. In like a snap the strained vessels inside your sclera dissipate bits by bits, assuring that the wound on your back would heal after some minutes as well. Harry expected it when you flicker with your new found strength over to one of the corpses and starts bleeding it dry.
He stands here, crossing his arms over his classy red velvet suit while watching over you. Once he judges you had enough and didn't want you to become addicted in a way that would drive you insane, he carefully but still kind of strongly grab your wrist. You let a little hiss at him, defiantly, which makes him smirk in a way that lets admire his now noticeable dimples and handsome features. Within a few seconds you calm down but Harry is now holding both of your wrists in his grip
“Stay still, dear” was his command, simple yet strict so it feels like you have no choice but to obey.
After letting go of both of your hands once you calmed down, Harry cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your head back and forth. You are not sure what the brunette is doing until he finds feint punctures on the side pale skin of you neck. The wound itself seems healed but you still have little small bruises.
“How long ago were you turned and who was it? Why are they not here watchin' over you?”
His array of questions makes you frown, wiggling free of his grasp just so you can huddle your hands around your trembling sorrow body, memories getting their way back into your brain. Memories you consider more as nightmares that keeps hunting you like a damn curse, only to remind you at each breath you take that nothing will be like it was before.
“He was... s-someone I cared about. We'd been seeing each other for a while, and then one day... H-he bit me... a-and forced his blood down my throat.” Telling the story doesn’t really make you feel any better, specially when you let Harry know that the man you trusted only wanted to watch you suffer for his own pleasure.
Seeing a newborn vampire like yourself, looking as lost and fragile as a deer into the wildness, really gets to him. Harry lived for countless centuries he forgot the exact number, but he definitely knows since day one that turning people was against the rules for the most part. At least turning someone and not helping them come into their new desires, powers and hunger. Honestly he is quite impressed you lasted so long on your own when he heard you say it has been nearly five months.
“Come this way, darlin'. The air reeks of human filth out her’.”
With a sudden but graceful turn the vampire starts walking away and finds it amusing how you scamper behind him like a lost puppy. Even your hand grabs the back of his velvety suit, like you dread the feeling of being alone. His comparison to you as newborn is not to be mean or even condescending. You are just so new to your turning that it is perfectly plausible to be scared and anxious about literally anything in your surrounding.
Harry doesn’t mind at all and pretty soon, you both are stepping deeper into the forest your attack happened for a good twenty minutes if not more. Then in front of you slowly appears what looks like a field, a large meadow embraced by the night and in its middle a quint little cottage. It looks nice and homey, but not what you first expected from a fearful creature like him.
“It's not a castle...”
The older vampire sneers at your remark and then turns to you, showing a surprisingly charming grin before pointing to the east. “My real home's far away from here, that's where the castle of y’stories will be. It's vast an' much larger than y'could possibly think, but I don't really fancy it.”
Your eyes blink curiously at him before gasping and pointing your finger in disbelief, a sudden realisation sticking your mind.
“O-Oh my god– are you from r-ro-royalty?!”
“You could say that” the brunette grins while pushing some curly locks back from his forehead. “Lord Harold Edward Styles, is what they call me. Harry for short.”
He merely cackles when your eyes start to swirl in confusion, before babbling nonstop that you didn't know and hope in the same breath with fearful eyes that he won’t kill you. Harry can’t help but frown at this, letting out a sigh.
“Come 'ere and tell me your name, dear. I have no reason to kill ya.”
For some reason, the peaceful and serious expression on his face feel trustworthy, offering his hand like a safety net he knows you need to feel secure. So after a small nibble of your bottom lip, you slowly place your petite hand in his and let him pull you inside his home.
“My name is (Y/N)... Thank you for saving me, my Lord.”
It honestly feels awkward to refer to him like that but maybe was it his rightful term? Being now a vampire yourself, you assume your “rank” is probably way lower than his so “serving” him seems... obvious, right? Yet anything that was happening since you began this new life was a matter of pure confusion to you, even more now since your new encounter with this vampire from royalty.
“You wanted to know who turned me... well, his name was Nick. I don't know if he's still around here, I'm sorry–”
“Just call me Harry, darlin’. I don't care at all for useless formalities unless y’break the rules or try to attack me.”
You viciously nod your head. Never would you do that, you still feel incredibly grateful and intimated by just being in his presence.
“The name sounds familiar as well. A fugitive whose turns 'umans against their will for dozens of years...” Harry mutters to himself, looking pissed that the enforcers in charge of catching people like that still haven't.
And so over the next few days, you learned about your new species in details and got a low down on all the rules you must do your best to follow at all costs. Harry even began to teach you about your abilities and how to tame your appetite for blood, though he commented once again that you were handling yourself well from the beginning.
Harry is for sure a mysterious man and doesn’t honestly act like someone whom is probably rightful King to the vampire’s world. It’s pretty clear he lived a long life while yours had just started. He appears to you as a ray of hopeful guidance in a world that becomes murky and malleable.
“(Y/N), dear, come 'ere.”
At his beckoning call, you place down the book you're reading and come to sit down next to him on the couch. At this point you've been staying with him in the cottage for a few months and knew what to expect when his hands approach your visage to cup your cheeks. Though it’s still a little embarrassing, but still you part your lips and let him examine your fangs like he has many times before ever since you met.
“They're just 'bout fully grown, since you've been fed regularly.”
Your head nod as his hands delicately slide away. It looks like there is something going on his mind, an internal struggle based on his body language that you get used to understand by now.
“Are you still havin' headaches and painful pulses?”
Honestly you wish to say no so he wouldn't worry. But the man likes the truth and only the truth as if the word is his middle name, and you own him that.
“Sometimes... but I'm fine right now. I thought it might be a form of withdraw?”
“You're not too far off. That piece of– person who turned ya didn't give you enough blood. Your human cells an' new vampire ones were basically fighting for dominance at the beginning, but it's clear which one will win in the end.”
Lifting his hand he uses the sharp claw of his index to slice a gash across his palm. Instantly his dark red blood pools in his grasp, before holding it out towards you.
“Drink.”
“I... c-can't?” It comes out as a question because you are indeed confused. “I mean– am I even allowed to? You're the vampire Lord after all... I–I don't want you to get in trouble–”
Harry chuckles immediately, like there isn’t a being alive that could punish him for breaking the rules. With a lift of his unharmed hand looping around your hip, he has you feeling all kind of dizzy when he clenches his fist and dripped his blood onto your plump pink lips.
“Just drink, dear. Maybe I need to start teachin' ya not to question my decisions, mmh?”
His words and your newfound position that has you sitting in his lap makes you feel bashful. You barely begin to lick your lips when the brunette lets you grab his hand to hold it up against your mouth. He feels your warm tongue lap lightly at first along his cold skin, before pursing against the wound and slowly starting to suck.
“That's it... You can sink y'fangs in if you want. The wound will heal faster than you think.”
You blink your big doe eyes at him, your face wondering without a word if all this is alright but you know Harry doesn’t want you to doubt him. Pulling back for just a second you take a breath and bare you fangs again, gently pressing into his skin enough to gulp a little more of his blood. As soon as he decides you had enough Harry pulls back and to your surprise, his wound and marks of your fangs both disappear within a few seconds.
The corners of his pale lips edge up, amused by your astonishment but he startles you with a reposition of your body before you can even realise anything. Now your legs are suddenly straddling either side of his hips, both of your hands pressing timidly at the turquoise suit covering his shoulders with confusion and shyness as the vampire brushes back your hair and leans down to your neck.
“My turn, now” his voice enticingly rasps against your skin. “We can replenish each other thi' way... though my blood is more to stabilise your vampire genes.”
Harry aires the hottest breath along your neck as he then bares his long fangs and sinks deeply into your flesh. You can’t help but gasp, but it sounds more like a moan that you aren’t completely aware of as he starts sucking your warm liquid.
“O-oh Harry–”
He smirks at your honesty, looping both of his hands around your backside. Within seconds he feels your own unsure sway, with the slow pet up against the back of his dark curls. It's been awhile since the brunette had a woman in his arms so his instincts and desires are telling him to take advantage of it.
But in the end Harry resolves against himself as you are still new to his world, and just wants to help you without adding strings. After a handful of seconds and a gulp or two of your sweet wine he pulls back, tenderly lapping up and down the holes until they heal properly and then help you sliding off his lap to make you sit next to him, catching sight of a shy blush of your cheeks and slightly faze expression.
“You shouldn't experience headaches anymore, darlin'” he begins almost too indifferently, “just don't do anything futile an' you’ll get used to bein' a vampire in no time.”
Next Harry sits up more comfortably, flattening his cream oversize pantsuits over his thighs as he side-eyes your cute expression – though is kind of displeased that you’re not looking at him anymore. But he does have to admit that teasing someone was such a nice sensation.
"I’m goin’ to make us some food, so relax in the meantime.”
You simply nod as an answer, definitely not trusting your voice since only stutters would come out if you try. But Harry doesn’t seem to pay attention to your lack of vocal answer, a satisfied expression on his face since he keeps enjoying the reactions you get over anything he does. And as much as he could simply use pressure to dominate and have you sweating in fear, all the man wants is a companion that won’t mind being at his side for awhile.
And so that's exactly who you became to the vampire.
Even after a few months and display that you were functioning perfectly as a vampire and could live on your own without trouble if you desired, you stayed. But the disheartened expression you showed him when Harry said you could leave struck a chord inside his chest. It was clear you thought he’s got tired of you or that you weren't allowed to stay with someone like him for very long because of his status.
Instantly the older vampire put a stop to any of those thoughts by saying that if you wanted to stay, you could. He wasn't kicking you out, he was only giving you the opportunity to leave and see the world by yourself. You were still a young and inexperienced vampire after all. Though the thought of traveling didn't sound like a bad idea, the year you spent with Harry up to this point had been very enjoyable. He held a most gentle yet imposing aura, which was only right since he was not just Lord in name but mostly in power. However that wasn't why you wanted to stay.
Harry had taken care of you and made you feel safe. The feeling you began to experience for him was new but somehow, you wanted to nurture the desire to be with him and make him happy if possible. The way he talked, teased, touched, held you in his grasp and let you feed off of him felt so intimate and somehow romantic.
In this respect time flew by and in a way felt like it had frozen since neither of you would show any signs of ageing. Both of you grew closer and found out that Harry was (surprisingly) a great cook, received visitors from the castle he told you about almost all the time and had a soft spot for the graceful beauty of nature. It was not that hard to tell because the brunette admitted right away that he enjoyed wandering outside the cottage, might be only to walk around or appreciate the first rays of dawn or sunset. And you could tell he took care to not trample the flowers under his steps and sometimes, you saw him watering the ones around his front porch. Some days you would even notice a new bouquet freshly gathered, settled in a Victorian style vase on the living room table. It was a small most insignificant trait, but you adored finding out those types of mannerisms.
“Harry?” you call softly with a thoughtful finger under your chin. At first you thought he was reading in his study since he had a nice little library, but the room was empty. Turning back, you check the living room and kitchen but they are both empty as well.
For a moment you wonder if he stepped out without saying – he's done it multiple times before. However you stop in front of his bedroom and get the feeling he might be taking a nap, another thing that isn’t uncommon. If he indeed is resting you don’t want to disturb him but after a small knock, you peak your head inside the room.
Low and behold there the brunette vampire is laying sprawled out on his bed, the silly thought that it should have been a coffin makes you giggle but you learned with him that many stereotypical aspects of vampires are so wrong – though it's true you can't walk in the sunlight, that crosses can cause pain and any significant damage to your body will kill you.
Now that you know he's asleep, you can't ask him what you wanted. Without getting too close you watch him sleep for a second and find his peaceful expression alleviating. Every now and then, you get the feeling the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And inside your heart, you know he was such a good man. After maybe a minute you turn back, ready to head out the room but his low and raspy voice calls out to you in a way that has you tripping over your own feet, bumping into the nearby wall.
“What is it, (Y/N)? Aren’t ya a bit clumsy, dear?” Harry snickers while sitting up, watching you rub your shoulder with a flustered expression.
From the look on your face and the way you avoid eye contact, he can clearly guess what you are bashfully unsure of if it's alright to ask of him.
“If you want to be fed, come ‘ere.”
The fact that Harry always knows what's on your mind is a little scary and reassuring at the same time because he has never used any of his power to harm you. With soft eyes, you step over to the right side of his bed and watch as he unbuttons the first few around the collar of his extravagant flowing shirt. As soon as his neck is exposed from the lacy collar, the vampire leans to the side beckoning you to take what you want without a word.
A gulp slides down your throat as you sit down on the edge of the bed. With the lift of your hands, you slowly push his pearly necklace up then press them on each of his shoulders before brushing your nose along his neck, fanning an ever soft breath against his skin with the bare of your fangs.
“I really like your personality, Harry... I-I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Your tender confession catches him off guard more than the actual prick of your fangs, not that any bite you'd already given him comes with very much force. The brunette can feel himself enjoying the way you suck his blood out of his system. It’s definitely a hard thing to play off for him right now, and it has actually been every single day you shared with him.
When you had a gulp or two you then part a little and tenderly kitten-like lap at your punctures, speeding up the healing process for him.
“... do you want to bite me as well?”
Though your cheeks are a little warm you show a most candid smile, brushing back your hair to display your neck for him just as he has done for you.
“I do, but... I'll decide where I want to bite ya. Just relax, darlin'.”
Despite a little confusion, you don’t mind the tug of your body closer to his own. Both of his unblinking emerald orbs glanced your body up and down in a way that makes you feel embarrassed. If he’s not going to bite your neck, where else is he going to sink his fangs?
The dress you have on is a simple long white off the shoulder variety that honestly displays some of your skin while still letting you look sweet and innocent. Honestly Harry likes it a lot – maybe a bit too much actually – just because he would wickedly enjoy defiling that imagery in his mind. You are a kind and sweet woman, a total sweetheart indeed, but the man already found out vividly that you liked pleasure just as much as anyone else does.
Without thinking very much his cold hand raises up against your right knee, the tail of your outfit covering it. The way you shyly bite your bottom lip with your fangs is a hell of a nice image. Harry only caresses a little bit along your inner thigh before sliding his hand under the fabric, and then rest it directly on your skin. Edging his head forward he startles you with the way he tugs down the middle of you dress with his fangs, until he can see perfectly between your cleavage.
The location Harry chose is so confusing that your frame jolts the moment the vampire sinks into your flesh. Both his hands are against your body, enjoying its shape as he gulps your sweet nectar greedily. He savours your startled grasp on his shirt but the uneven pulse he feels beneath your flesh encourages him to keep going, his now scarlet orbs flickering with heavier desire.
All it takes is another small tug to reveal your bare breasts to his lidded sight. By time you realise his lips are already pursed around the closest nipple, warmly lapping the flat of his tongue in a way that feels exquisite. Like the male vampire you quickly get caught up in the moment, leaning your head back to moan and enjoy the added fray of his hand squeezing the other breast.
For a moment, you briefly thinks about how his saliva and tongue are both so warm as they suckle and lick your skin, when his flesh is cold and pale like your own. The answer doesn’t matter specially as his fangs tease your little nub. It’s clear Harry can’t hold back no more, now sunking savagely into your mound.
“O-oh my–!”
A ripple of pure ecstasy slides all over your body, causing you to moan Harry’s name not just once but a couple of times. The pleasure is so unexpected yet your arms circle around his shoulders, curving along his fine muscles but that’s when he realises how he’s letting his lust for you take over him.
Abruptly the brunette detaches from you, a small pop making you gasp but for the most part your hazy expression questions him with such want that he has to look away for his own sanity. The unhindered view of your breasts really dulls all of his develop senses. It had been awhile since he felt such powerful sexual desire for a woman, definitely way too long since his body was apparently getting out of control and a mind of its own. 
“Get out” Harry suddenly growls, making you frown and wonder what you’ve done wrong. “I didn't mean to do that– I just got caught up in trying to tease ya. If you're still hungry, go find a human.” When you don’t seem to move, still shocked at his harsh way of talking that rarely happen (in fact it never happens with you), the vampire turns his head back while flaring his menacing dark embers at you in a way that makes you tremble.
With a hurt expression you quickly cover your chest, trying to fix your dress the best you can before apologising like a hurt puppy and simply scamper at the speed of the light out of the room. Once alone, a now heavy silence settled in, Harry’s fists bowl-clawing his palms but it was the least he cared about. He didn’t mean to scare you, in fact he's been trying so hard not to use any of his powers on you.
The man is centuries older than you and shouldn't care about trivial feelings you may have, but both of you had such a good relationship since now and a part of him doesn’t want it to change... though Harry has always seen you as a beautiful woman. It’s not like he can’t admit that much at last, the man was kind of bad at expressing himself out loud most of the time. What he was most unsure about is if you really wanted him or if it was your vampire senses that tells you to submit to him like that.
With a heavy sigh he buttons his white shirt half way up, arranging his long and floating sleeves while deciding he should at least check on you. After all Harry won’t blame you for leaving if you want to create space between you two. Because now that he thinks about it, never did he ever speak to you like he did five minutes ago, and repeatedly calls himself a douche for that. 
The thought quickly – and thankfully – dissipates the moment he steps into the hall and hears the running water from the shower inside your bedroom. A relived expression formed on his face, glad that you didn’t leave. Abandonment was something he was used to over the centuries and had lived through many times. It’s honestly a miracle it had been about three years at this point and you maintained a good playful relationship with each other – well, until a few moments ago.
Soundlessly, Harry edges down the hall and notices the door of your bedroom open. As he approaches towards it, he finds himself inside the room before advancing to the closed bathroom door. Now in front of it he closes his eyes and place his hand on the wooden doorframe. His senses are far more astute than your own so every subtle breath you take, movements through the water or flex of your hands as they rubbed soap against your pale body... he could picture it pretty vividly. Just imagining the curves of your body is turning him on, specially thanks to the welcomed sneak peak at your chest from earlier. His fingers silently curl around the door knob, a light voice in his head reminding him once again he should stop before reaching the point of no return, that he should leave you in peace to wash up and later and offer you a nice meal as an apology for being a complete jackass earlier.
However, he can't. His senses twinge with the soothing aroma of lavender tickling his nostrils, knowing that's the soap he got you some weeks ago. With the slowest of movement that you won’t hear nor sense if you don't focus on it, the brunette opens the door wide enough to allow him a peak through the crack.
The first thing his eyes drag over is your long dress crumpled on the floor along with a soft cotton pair of light blue panties. Without waiting a second longer he tilts up and gets a completely unhindered view of your backside. His eyes follow the dip of your spine to the soft plush curve of your ass and long legs. Just observing this much of you has him gulping down hungrily but the moment you turn, using both hands to accentuate your breasts and stomach, there is no path to return to. All Harry can do is pant an uneven breath as you sway the water over your womanly shapes, washing away the soapy sheen of bubbles and suds.
The content and relaxed hum you air echoes inside the small space of the glass shower, bringing the man goosebumps of delight like a moan without sexual inclination. The more he watches your body and the subtle move of your fingers, the more Harry can't stop his own from unzipping his pantsuit to free his cock. His strong fingers curl around his girth, slowly pumping himself up and down as he watches you bend over just a bit to let water cascade down your back. An instant burn of want invades his entire body, the desire to squeeze those fine cheeks or even offer you a naughty little spank not leaving his mind.
Harry watches your hands do exactly what he desires when they pet down your hips and accentuate the shape of your bottom, like the water feels particularly nice cascading against it. Honestly, the smirk can’t leave his face. You're incredibly and undeniably sexy in a most natural way, so why holding back? His palm squeezes the tip of his manhood with excited fervor, still watching you smile shyly at the barely noticeable bite marks on your chest. You like to an extreme when the brunette vampire bites you, there’s no denying this fact as you moaned it to him many times. And Harry has a feeling you would have let him go further if he didn’t get confused about his fantasies.
The claws of his other hand dig into the frame of the door, scratching it all up as he pumps himself with the unbearable desire he has inside his guts for you to touch him. It doesn't even have to be his cock, he'd be fine with you admiring his body like you have before or stroking through his hair with that soft content smile on your delicate pink lips.
Thoughts inside his head become more erotic when he looks up at the sound of your soft voice humming a little tune. Both of his now dark scarlet eyes end up focusing on your mouth and gritting his teeth in a haze of wanting to feel those plump appendages against his girth. The movement of your tongue and warmth of your throat he can picture so vividly bring him closer and closer to the edge with each squeeze along his base and tip.
He even finds the way you rinse your hair to be erotic because you look so whimsical. A thought of wanting to devour you in every single way possible is what officially sends him over the edge, causing him to grind his teeth and grunt your name as he comes all over his hand.
His mind is so cloudy and hazy he doesn't even care that you’ve finally noticed him. Your eyes widen in total surprise, but your complexion darkens at the lewd sight of his arousal dripping from his fingers. Your head turns away before you can implode from embarrassment, hot water still running along your naked skin. You can’t help the deepest thoughts running wild and wondering if Harry was watching you shower to eventually pleasure himself to your body while doing so.
“Don't act shy now, my dear. I'm about to join you.”
At first you blink in confusion, glancing back in his direction to watch as he shuts the bathroom door to be inside the room with you. This signature showing-dimples grin enlightens his face in a way that reveals his pearly white fangs, before letting his already oversize black pantsuits fall to the floor. Harry is pretty quick to unbutton his shirt again, the soft and almost see-through fabric sliding off his shoulder to cascade on the floor soon followed by his trousers and underpants, leaving him absolutely naked for your eyes only.
Harry is the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. A tall and sculptured vampiric body that probably hasn't changed for hundreds of years. With a few steps forward the brunette is on the other side of the shower glass door and wraps his fingers around the handle, ready to erase any distance separating you both. He pauses his movement for a few seconds, letting both of you take in each other’s new found appearance and what might be about to happen.
“If I join you, (Y/N)” begins Harry almost in a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours, “... I won’t ever be able to leave ya alone.”
Your eyes rise in surprise, his expression reflective of how serious he was being. For a second or two you turn away, your hands covering your face which is giving him the impression you might be having second thoughts. Though the croak of your voice and the tender expression you offer when you slowly spin back proves how you've been able to constantly surprise him these past years.
“Is that a promise?"
Without a second thought Harry is right by your side and looming over you in a possessive dominating way. Both of his hands pet along the warm and wet edge of your stomach, before gripping your hips and tugging you completely into his body. Without pretence his expression represents just how much he enjoys your whole and can’t wait but brush some of your hair sticked on your face, assuring you he can't wait another second to kiss you.
The distance between you both closes with the warmest capture of your lips that quickly becomes some passionate tongue action. It honestly feels that divine you couldn't stop yourself from moaning into the kiss. The warmth of the water doubles nicely the little fire forming inside your guts, in a way that affirms you’ve never felt such a discombobulating kiss before.
Right away Harry greedily begins stroking, groping and petting every single supple curve your body has to offer. Even your own hands note the nice shape of his back and every defined dreamy muscle. His lips curve up as he tugs playfully at your bottom lip, the gentle way you appreciate his shape really has him feeling some type of way.
“Give yourself to me, darlin’, this time I won’t be holdin’ back.” 
The air of his wanting rasp meets the underside of your chin, of which Harry is currently kissing his way down. With a press of both his hands on your lower back he has you arching and moaning as he licks between your breasts. When the vampire starts to nip at your plush skin, it’s even more overwhelming because not only is he pursing his lips but his tongue is gliding all over you. The flat of his wet muscle makes sure to whirl around the ridge of your nipple, assuring it’s perfectly erect before nibbling on it with his fangs.
“Oh Harry, that feels so good...” 
Hearing your honest pleasure encourages him to absolutely cover your breasts in love bites both a literal and physical way, each mark more blissful than the next. Your mind becomes so consumed you don’t even know Harry is backing you up until you meet with the wet and slightly cold tiles.
Just looking up to admire the shower water perfectly cascading over his rippling muscles – his weirdly yet attractive inked skin on full display and usual necklaces in place – is the most blessed image you could wish for. This Adonis of a man looks so perfect that you lean up to offer him your own slow and sensual desire filled kiss. Little do you know he enjoys your initiative, specially since you’re kitty licking around his tongue.
Slowly Harry begins to take over such as his more dominate nature, but you oh so don’t mind. In fact you’re getting lost in the way his strong hands fondle and squish your chest. The thumb of his left hand even circled around the perky tip, while his middle and index on his other give you some slow pinches like he’s determined to have you mewling into his mouth.
“I must ‘ave been out of my mind to wait three fuckin’ years to ‘ave you...” Harry growls while baring his fangs, pressing into the top area of your shoulder. The bite he gives isn’t even painful since the puncture is slow and the suckle he drinks your blood feels so pleasurable.
“H-Harry, I’ve never felt any pain w-when you bite me” you start, stuttering from all his attention on you. “I-I thought I was weird, b-but I can't help but want so much more...”
Harry’s lips curve up against your skin as you let a louder and more frequent moan, not only because the vampire leaves deep red hickeys on your neck and collarbones, but because his hand slides down to rest between your legs.
The moment you sense it outlining your womanhood, you arch your back while clutching your hands tightly around his shoulders. Without waiting his index and middle finger caress your lower lips for just a second or two, before encouraging your legs to spread further apart so Harry can thrust them effortlessly into your core.
“A-ah– feels so good!”
Enraptured by your praise, Harry increases his rhythm and feels the thump of your slow heartbeat. His own is probably pulsing in the same way, it's been so long since the man felt this exhilarated. With a caress at your hip for you to steady, the wobble your legs frays at his kisses all over your breasts and even a slippery curl with his tongue down to your belly button.
By the time you try to follow what’s happening, the brunette is already on his knees between your legs, kissing nonstop at your inner thighs. Out of the corner of his eye you can tell Harry is actually watching himself glide his fingers in and out of your slippery folds. It should be embarrassing, but you find that more thrilling than anything else. He’s so passionate as a lover, the attention he gives being excruciatingly euphoric whatever he does.
“Earlier” his raspy voice mumbles against your thigh before he proceeds, “I was so tempted to push y'down an’ bite your thigh...”
As he licks hungrily at your skin, you recall how he caressed up your upper leg earlier, the touch offered when you woke him up was oddly intimate. It made you bashful since it was so sudden, but if he had done as he wanted you wouldn't have stopped him.
“Now I’ve a second chance... so don't mind if I do, darlin’.”
Your chest heaves with the warmth bubbling all over your skin as you watch the bare of his pointy sharp fangs and the immediate pierce into your inner thigh. A loud moan echoes around the shower, the vibrations prickling Harry’s ears and assuring he won’t part from your delectable flesh until he gives you his most vivid love bite.
Your head shakes at how all consuming the pleasure you’re gladly receiving feels. And as he sucks the sweet blood from your thigh, he doesn’t hesitate to add a third finger into your fold, now working a pace that lets you know in accurate detail that you're indeed incredibly wet. It’s not just the shower anymore, both of you know this for a fact. By now you have no problem admitting you’re turned on like a thousand lightbulbs.
“Your smell’s drivin’ me insane...!” came his lidded snarl, some little blood dripping down his chin but quickly washed away by the shower. Harry is darting for your womanhood like a famished animal, the instant curl of his fingers along your slit having you whimpering and yanking at his wet hair a bit too hard.
“F-fuck– I’m sorry Harry” you whimper out your sincere apologise along with a moan, the back of your head bumping on the tile wall as if the king of vampires like the one kneeling between your legs could get hurt from such a small type of friction. “It feels like I-I can't breath– feels so good!” 
"If you're that out of it, y'can be rougher...”
His warm breath hazes over the sensitive bead of your clit, making you convulse in pleasurable disarray. With his hands taking a fist full of your ass, Harry pushes you deeper against his tongue to then curl it up and down. The sensation of him lapping against your slick inner walls has you seeing stars, knowing a man has never eaten you out so hungrily before.
With the constant pant of your moans filling the primal space inside his head, there is only one and simple desire he has: to make you cum on his tongue and no matter what, he will not pull away until you do. It’s more rewarding than you'll ever know to have your writhing body in his grasp, not just your trembling legs when he had the chance to have you innocently straddle him, but the arousal coating his lips and the subtle desire filled push of your hands that want him even deeper inside you were exciting in a maddening way.
“A-ah please Harry, I c-can't–!” 
You are barely able to tell him how close you’re feeling right now, as drool ebbs heavily down your lips. Harry is already aware though because of the curl of your fingers, each tugging at his hair in your peak of utmost disorienting pleasure.
With a gentle pat over your soft wet body, he squishes both of your breasts and thrusts his red muscle in a most detail oriented type of way. Your praises grow in frequency as well, telling him how utterly euphoric you feels and how hot the knot in your stomach makes your skin burn, bringing you closer to your end. Everything kinda rushes to the tipping point with a pinch to your buds, causing the instant convulse of your folds and drench of your fluids flow down his chin, assuring the fangs in his mouth are vividly pulsating.
It takes everything not to sink in to your most sensitive body part. Harry manages to calm himself down with the caress of your hands falling limp, feeling one curve around his ear to hold him gently where he is. With the thought of how much he needs to claim you, the brunette gulps down your nectar and even laps the slippery sheen coating your slit.
As he raises back up to stand, all it takes is a small hazy blink for you to miss completely the way Harry yanks up both of your legs and positioned you right against his cock. “’m gonna take you hard an' fast– can't wait another second to make y'mine.”
Your lips part but all you’re able to say is a pant of his name, while coiling tightly around his neck and nodding your head.
“Have all of me, take me Harry–”
The vampire most certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, so without hesitation he thrusts deeply into your slippery folds. His speed is just as instantaneous as the pleasure you start to drown in. You never knew your voice could go so loud and high pitched until a man with much vigour and strength named Harry came along, thrusting his hips in a way that fills you to the brim with every movement he makes.
“S-Shit you're so fuckin' wet– so tight ‘round me, only for me–”
His fangs are on domineering display, getting off on your pleasurable honesty just as much as the throb of your tight folds. You don’t get to see his expression though as you leaned your head back again but this time caused by a every aggressive slam of your ass on his thighs. That gives him the perfect opportunity to enjoy your neck, so the vampire doesn’t mind.
Each electrifying kiss left on your skin feels exceptional, every sway of his hips lets you know he’s a well endowed man and quite honestly just being in his arms has you feeling this way. This man didn't have to save you or take you in and just could have gotten rid of your at any time. But the instant he's allowed you to stay and gave you a comforting space to get used to your knew desires and vampiric body.
There is a part of you that wishes you still has a conventional heartbeat just so you could feel how erratic it could be thundering against your ribcage. However, even without a human heartbeat you still knew you were excited beyond all belief. Just being able to run your hands along his shoulders, maybe even brush up against the back of his head has you feel like his long time lover.
“Fuck, I can't get enough of ya” Harry suddenly growls in madness, dropping one of your legs back against the floor while he pulled the other higher up and hold your thigh, basically watching himself rammed his thick cock into your body. There’re not a single word forming on the tip of your tongue other than whimpers and mewls of ecstasy.
His speed and precision to hit your most sensitive spots are probably only possible due to his improved senses and longevity. No doubt in your mind Harry probably had many past lovers before you but you don’t really care. He always tells you to live in the moment and not muddle through just because of your past.
“You're now a vampire, (Y/N). Act like one for your own sake.”
These are the words he told you over the past shared years together, which became your mantra to feel validated in your new life. Speaking of your new desires, your fangs are constantly throbbing and pulsating for the past minute, reason why your eyes have been glued to his neck and shoulder ever since. The need to bite him is so overwhelming that you simply don’t care to ask before diving forward to sink deeply into the space right bellow his ear.
“H-hah, y'little vixen– that feels so damn good, have your fill” the brunette encourages you with no malice but utter pleasure.
In fact he’s enjoying the twinge of your fangs so much his fervour keeps increasing. His hips edge even closer while his clawed hand takes a hold of your waist and starts slapping at your inner thighs in a way that have your arousal dripping profusely onto the shower floor.
You can’t stop yourself from moaning against his skin or salivating heavily as you absorb down his delectable blood. You swear his nectar tastes even more delicious then it ever has before, like the most finest aged wine. It's a thought you can barely focus on as you suddenly toss your head back, feeling yourself reach a most blissful end.
The moment Harry senses your insides clench repeatedly, he shoves his tongue down your throat and becomes enraptured in the way you meet his every slapping movements. Heavy saliva from both of you mixes together, dripping profusely down your chin as soon as you feels the deeply penetrating thrust of his cock slam into your womb. His arousal fills you to the brim in a way that makes you drift through euphoria.
After some time the brunette parts from your kissed swollen lips, a thin sheen of saliva still connects you together before quickly breaking when he licks his fine pale lips. The vampire smirks at you in complete satisfaction while ever slowly edging his girth away from your wall, not without admiring how thickly coated in your juices his manhood is. Maybe Harry even salaciously admires the dribble of your combined arousal from your slit, but it’s clear you are feeling utterly spent and can only keep yourself up by pressing a bit at his chest and shoulders, leaning your back against the tiles behind you.
With a soft expression that suits him so heavenly, Harry tenderly strokes his hands up your body while admiring once again the plush shape of your stomach, breasts and the slender trail up your neck to cup your soft cheeks. The smile you give him proves he’s offering all the affection he is able of with the sensual touch of your lips with his. This kiss is the slowest and most romantic you ever felt from him yet, while the brunette lifts you in his arms properly again before pulling away from the kiss.
“I'll help you dry off, dear. ‘think we've soaked in the shower long enough.”
“Thank you Harry” you thank him with a slight smile, your cheeks nuzzled into his wet chest before placing a kiss there that has him avoiding your gaze and wondering where a romance like this has been all his long life. 
You sit still once he settles you on the sink counter, wiggling cutely as he dries you off with purposeful caresses of your more intimate body parts. When he also dries himself both of you get dressed – you into the long nightdress you took before your shower and him back in his oversized pantsuits only. Afterwards, you take his hand as Harry walks you both out of your bathroom. It’s clear you wish for him to lay with you in your nearby bed but he hesitates at the edge of it, looking towards your still wide open door. It seems like Harry wants to escape but that’s not it at all. He is looking towards his study at the other side of the hallway where an item he had hidden was secretly and well kept.
“I'll be right back– hey, don't make that face, darlin’... I'll lay with ya when I come back.”
You lean into the palm of his warm hand that softly strokes your cheek, adding a hopeful nod. Your soft eyes trail behind his tall figure as Harry steps out into the hall, leaving your door cracked open behind him. With a little doubt forming in your heart you lay on the silk mattress of your bed and turn, rolling back and forth like a restless child waiting for time to fly as fast as possible.
It took him longer than he wanted as he struggled with whether this was the right thing to do or completely the opposite, tons of questions invading his mind: did you want him as much as he wanted you, and so should he trust you with a secret only a handful of the Royal vampires know? His hundreds of years differs so greatly from your barely twenty-five-ish ones. The brunette keeps rushing his thoughts because first, he wants you to be happy and second, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.
With the item in his hands, Harry clenches his fingers tightly around it and makes his way back to your side. As he enters the silent room, smelling some faint aroma of lavender from your previous shared (hot) shower, you’re actually snoring softly while sprawled out in a way that takes up nearly the entire bed, which makes the brunette slightly chuckles at how silly yet adorable you are. He shakes his head with the soft expression you love so much on him, effortlessly scooting you further to one side before climbing in next to you.
For a couple of minutes Harry strokes your hair and caresses your skin, before taking your right hand and placing on your fourth finger a gold ring with a glimmering ruby jewel in its middle. Your eyes flicker open at the feeling, followed by a small yawn while watching the careful placement of your new jewellery with a bashful smile.
“... Are you asking me to marry you, Harry?”
His emerald eyes open wide in shock, skin darkening more than you thought a creature like him was capable of. Instantly the brunette uses your palm to cover his face and slowly shakes his head, the white pearl of his necklace softly jiggling around his neck at this. The breath from his parted lips tickles your skin and honestly makes you fall at peace.
“N-no– well n-not yet at least, uh–” Harry stutters, still hiding his face with your hand. He clears his throat before continuing “though this is my gift to you, love.” 
You can’t see the way he actually bites his bottom lip, but your eyes notice both his hands covered in rings that he always wears. And one catches your attention, the one with a similar ruby jewel in the middle yet of a different shape.
“This will allow ya to walk 'round in the sunlight, this way it will no longer cause you any harm, my dear.”
“Really? But you said that it would always hurt...?”
“Without an amulet blessed an’ enchanted by a powerful witch, the sunlight will cause us vampires harm. That’s why you must always wear it.”
Harry lowers your combined hands so you’re finally able to see the serious expression on his face. “You must never tell anyone abou' this. Not a single soul, vampire or human alike, my dear. No one.”
“I would never cause you trouble, Harry. And I promise I'll take this secret to my grave” you respond back, arms sliding around his hips like a silent wish to lay your head against his bare torso, a motion which your lover gladly welcomes by sliding his fingers through your hair. 
With a thankful smile you get comfortable, closing your eyes in hopes to snuggle with him while you sleep.
“People will not question it if y’tell them you were sired by me” proceeds the brunette vampire abasing your hair, fingers still entangled in your soft locks to massage your scalp. “It's a misconception tha' pure royal vampires are born immune to the hurtful rays of sunlight... Most of our kind think a person turned by us will also be immune.”
“I wish... I had been turned by you” you let out in a whisper while keeping your face nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “I want to be with you for as long as I'm able to.”
The vampire can’t resist but leave feather-like kisses on your forehead and hairline, your confession definitely making him feel... alive. His hot breath hitting your skin gently soothe you and so are his kisses, the sudden brush of his nose against your face bringing a delightful giggle out of you which Harry would never get tired of.
“Maybe I'll be the one to ask you to marry me, who knows...” you add, your index finger sliding over his pearl necklace with a define grin on your face. 
No words could describe how you make Harry feel. Never has he been more grateful for the quick way you fall asleep just so he could hug you tightly against him. Maybe later, he will be able to tell you that, as surprising as that may sound, the man has never been married in his long life either. There has never been someone this special to him to go for it. It's indeed hard to say if Harry wants to make that commitment with you at this point either the thing he’s sure of is his wish - no, his desire to be with you. Forever. 
“Good night, my love... Maybe tomorrow I’ll take ya to the castle y’ask me about all the time.”
* * * 
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lazyliars · 3 years
Text
/rp
DreamXD actually slots very nicely into a working theory I've had for about two or so months now, mainly centering around one question:
What happened to Dream?
Namely, why did Dream change, when exactly did it happen, and was it solely an internal change, or was there an external force at play, specifically a preternatural one?
I think with DreamXD, we might finally have an answer.
Or at least some clues to follow. DreamXD presents a shift in every single paradigm the Dream SMP has had. Like, I think most of it is just being so utterly blind-sided by George Lore Real, but part of it is the massive ramifications of an Actual God* being present in the storyline.
((*On the other resident god of the server, Foolish:
DreamXD is different than Foolish, in that his characterization is so dramatically inhuman - Foolish talks and acts like a (somewhat eccentric) person, and his powers are, as far as we know, limited in comparison to the creative-mode godhood that DreamXD occupies. And whether that is because Foolish is not a "full" god (having been referred to as a demigod) or simply because he's spent so much time around humans, we don't know, but we do know that either way, DreamXD is NOT that.
DreamXD's voice is marked by glitches and dramatic shifts in tone, he seems to lack control over the different aspects of his personality, like the more "Dream" part vs. the darker one that threatens to eat peoples souls. The "normal" part even displays confusion when George references things that the "darker" part said, implying that it may not be fully aware of itself.
TLDR: Foolish acts more human than DreamXD, who has a very eldritch personality.))
To get right to the point:
The Dream we knew before November 16th, and the Dream we know now are not the same. Something changed, and it changed for the worse.
Consider: Dream was always antagonistic to the L'manbergians - he was always imperious to them, and he was responsible for starting a number of fights between his faction and theirs, just as many if not more than they were.
But, he was also not... evil. He'd pick fights with Tommy, the disc wars were still a thing, but the gravity of the spats they had weren't dire. They were fun. They were... actually a game. He wasn't like the way he is now. While in hindsight we can look at these events and detect a serious undertone knowing what's to come, at the time they were far from it.
There is an argument to be made that he had the same tendencies as now, just not expressed as loudly, and while I believe it's a valid argument, I disagree that it's proof of Dream always being the way he is now.
Sapnap, Badboyhalo, Sam. They all remember Dream as their friend - they remember someone who was, maybe a little aggressive and a lot competitive, but not cruel. Not needlessly murderous. Not someone who steals sentimental items and lines the walls of a disgusting museum to use against them.
Dream cut them out. Sapnap was totally blindsided. Bad doesn't seem to fully believe it. Sam blamed himself for not realizing and tried to take the weight of that crime on his own shoulders by becoming the Warden.
There's also the competing theory that what happened to Dream was purely psychological - either the circumstances slowly isolating him from his friends driving him to the do things he's done, or a desire for control that started early and continued to fester until it overshadowed everything else, or any combination of both.
And those theories are still valid, they could still be the case, but I haven't been able to shake the idea that there is something deeper at play. I can't overstate how the exile arc and everything after it have been so inhumane, so cruel, and... not exactly out of character in the sense that I could never see Dream doing them, but in the sense that I could never see him doing them for no reason.
And there really doesn't seem to be one. Dream says himself, it's like a game. He sees people as toys, puppets. And there just doesn't seem to be an inciting incident that could explain how he made the leap from semi-authoritarian leader who, despite being a warmonger, does love his friends, to heartless murderer who wants to reduce everyone he knows to dolls.
There's... ways, he could get there, but nothing that we've seen makes sense. There is a missing piece, something that must have happened from his POV that we didn't get to see because he doesn't stream.
And DreamXD could be it. This godly entity that claims that it is "a part of [Dream]" but that it isn't him entirely. That seems to share the lack of understanding of humanity that Dream has been displaying like when he asks if resurrecting Tommy was “cool.” But that still loves George. He still, despite apparently not having the same history as Dream, desperately wants to be George's friend.
If I had to pinpoint the moment Dream changed, it would be the day that he revealed that he switched sides, and was going to be fighting against Pogtopia. He was paid for this betrayal in the Revive Book.
I mark this as the turning point in my theory because it is the first time Dream mentions his affinity for chaos in the context of hurting others. However, we also know that this likely wasn't the day he actually made the decision to betray - as he revealed that there was a traitor among the Pogtopians, a fact that he likely would have learned before this.
Now, I mark George's lore stream as the introduction of DreamXD proper, and I want that on the record because it isn't technically his first appearance on the server.
Most people will remember him from Techno's stream, where he logged on to break the End Portal in a panic. I doubt the character was properly written into the lore at that time, but it fits neatly with the rest of what we know about him - a guardian of the server, and the keeper of it's rules. No contradictions.
What less people might know, is that DreamXD has made an even earlier appearance, and it's this one where things begin to get... interesting.
Around roughly October of 2020, Tubbo and Fundy did some improv'd streams centering around Demon Hunting, or rather, "Dreamon" Hunting, and it's during the first of these two streams that DreamXD makes an appearance.
The bare bones of it was - Tubbo is an experienced "Dreamon Hunter" and teaches Fundy his ways. They find Dream, and realize that he has a Dreamon inside of him, which is basically an evil version of him. They attempt to exorcise the Dreamon from Dream via various shenanigans, and eventually, they do a ceremony to free Dream. However, they apparently botch it, and unleash the Dreamon within. After more shenanigans, one attempt to fix it utilizing Fundy and Dream's wedding appears to work, but then DreamXD logs on, flys around at Tubbo and Fundy threateningly, and they end stream on the idea that there are probably more Dreamons to hunt.
Now. There's a lot to unpack here. I'm not gonna go into the nitty gritty details in this post, but I do recommend watching the Dreamon streams, as they have A LOT of details that, if this is getting incorporated into the main story line, could be important - especially the focus on duality, having TWO versions of Dream, which end up being potentially separated from each other.
(Also, they're just really funny streams. Tubbo and Fundy are at PEAK chaos and Dream plays along with their inane bit perfectly, it's just good content.)
At the time of the Dreamon streams airing, they were explicitly non-canon. IIRC Tubbo and Fundy referred to them as taking place In an “alternate universe,” which makes sense considering they would have been on opposite sides at the time (Manburg and Pogtopia.)
However.
And this is where I show you my wall of red string and newspaper clippings.
My singular piece of evidence for this comes from one line DreamXD drops. He simply says: “At least you're not hunting me.”
The Dreamon streams take place around early October. Dream reveals his betrayal of Pogtopia around November 6th-7th. The timeline of the Dreamon streams would line up perfectly with the idea that there was a catalyzing event that put Dream on the proverbial path to hell.
I do not believe that they intended the Dreamon arc to be anything other than a side story at the time, but considering that DreamXD himself was barely canon until now, I don't think it's out of the question that they took a look back at a fan-favorite minor arc, saw an opportunity to co-opt it into the current story line, and potentially fill in some holes regarding Dream's characterization all in one move.
On the question of whether this would be a GOOD storytelling move?
The Dreamon theories were prevalent during the exile arc, and I've got to say, I was never a huge fan. The detachment of Dream's actions from his intentions, and by extension his morality, never sat right with me. It feels cheap to make him a victim and say “a Dreamon did it!” in regards to all of the horrible things that he's done. It strips his agency and makes everything that happened less impactful in my opinion, and I stand by that reading.
BUT. With DreamXD introduced, I feel like it's necessary to look at this from all angles. And with the way DreamXD was characterized in George's stream, I don't think it necessarily ruins Dream's character to say that an external force was involved with his descent into evil.
Namely, the idea that whatever happened to Dream was not really a “possession” so much as a gradual loss of humanity, could be an interesting way to look at this. It implies that Dream was always capable of his actions, but grants us understanding as to why he would actually perform them, and why he might have become isolated enough from his friends that they would let this happen.
The Dream we know now could be an expression of his “worst self” brought to the surface by a Dreamon/DreamXD/other. It also begs the question of what would happen if that force were to leave him, and how it might cause yet another shift in character, especially if it were to be portrayed as less of a switch being flipped, and more of a withdrawal, with a gradual process of realizing how far gone he was.
To close this out, I've been stewing on the idea that Dream hasn't entirely been himself since the climax of the Exile Arc.
I think this theory holds water, but it's also not waterproof... there are plenty of holes, and a lot of that comes from the fact that Dream doesn't stream. We're left in the dark when deciphering his character, and what might appear to be the key, could just as easily be revealed as a red herring, or even nothing at all.
Regardless of the validity of the Dreamon theory, I think that DreamXD is one of the most interesting developments we've had on the SMP in a long time, if simply because his arrival coincides with fucking George Lore Real. God. I still don't know how to deal with that.
I always appreciate people adding to the discussion by the way! Feel free to reblog with additions if you like or leave them in the replies.
And if a single one of you comes to my blog on THIS. THE DAY OF MY DAUGHTER'S WEDDING. And calls ME a c!Dream Apologist to MY FACE..... I will be v sad.
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Text
I'm sick of the BL industry
To be honest, yesterday, I was very close to stop watching BLs - or I should say Thai BLs - because I lost hope things will take a good turn. It was just a thought I had for a second and it may not seem like an important decision that would change my life. It wouldn't affect me much to return to Netflix but it wouldn't mean anything better. The Thai BL industry has the same problems as Hollywood, so why bother what to consume, right?
And it's not like every BL is problematic behind the scenes and it's the same with Hollywood. To be real here, I only watch Thai BLs because I like the language, food and culture in general. And because it's about love no matter the gender in a very romantic and innocent way. I spend years with American shows and watching something from Southeast Asia is very different. I can't name the difference, but it's huge.
But the Thai BL industry has a bit of an image problem going on right now and I'm very curious how things will turn out and if shows like "call it what you want" or "lovely writer" can actually start a debate about abuse and binding contracts because they are immense problems, I'm gonna talk about here.
Casting
It all starts with the casting. Mostly, actors are being casted who are already famous on social media and I get the strategy. The company can generate more fame and popularity of the show but isn't it enough to cast one famous person and that's it? I don't know anything about BL actors to be honest, so I can't say if they were that famous before or not but even if they weren't, then they are mostly casted for a supporting role and are not the protagonist or his love interest. Mostly, I know the actors from somewhere else and it's sad and unfair for the other actors who don't even stand a chance to get the main role. If you are not famous, you won't get there, and that's clearly inequal.
Binding contracts
So, these people get casted and are now part of the crew. The next problem is the contract they have to sign. I have never seen one of those, so I can't say anything credible about it, but what I can figure out is: the contracts must be very long and detailed. The contracts are the real problem here because they put up boundaries and build lines that shouldn't be crossed that are unnecessary and even though the actors can hide it, something seems off. My favourite example is Saint because he seems nice and all but I always have the feeling he fakes everything and I can't tell were his true self begins and his professional one ends. I find it kind of creepy because I can't figure him out and feel like he's broken or at least, hates his job sometimes. I don't know. These contracts lead actors to fake their whole life, lose their identity and turn them into a**holes. It really makes me sad because these people are obviously scared of saying something wrong because then they would be over. What kind of working atmosphere is that? It's not healthy - that's clear - and the actors are always very distant with each other. It's obvious the things they say, do and laugh about are only said, done and funny when the camera is rolling and it's something I really don't like. I deteste fakery and that's why I don't like certain BL casts because I feel like they are pretending so much they don't like each other off camera at all.
Certain people have too much power
People in high positions definetely have too much power over the actors, directors and the whole crew itself. It's not only the binding contracts. What the trailer of "call it what you want" already addressed was way more than that. They are controlled and surpressed. Simply put, the companies and CEO's don't always see them as humans with a soul. It's really extreme and I know, it's not like that with every BL but I also know, it's the case with enough of them. Tracking your phone, getting you fired if you save the wrong number and keeping you apart from the outside are just the three things mentioned in the trailer.
Of course, there's also the problem with sexual harrasment and it's not only a problem, it's a challenge a whole generation has to face. After watching the video "BL: Broken Fantasy" I felt really stupid because someone who was interviewed was saying the BL industry is acting the same as Hollywood, and of course it does but I never saw it this way. Now I feel stupid for being blinded by all the promotion, shiny music videos and happy interviews because in the end it's also just a film industry, so why would things be different behind closed doors? Then of course, sexual harrasment happens a lot and even abuse. I'm even more mad now that I think about all the BL actors who also never spoke up. There must me billions of people worldwide... anyway, turning back, I just wanted to say that CEO's of production companies in Thailand can be as pathetic as the ones in America and sexual abuse is still a thing no one talks about.
Atmosphere on set
As a BL actor, you go to the casting because you personally have no problem with kissing another man. What still surprises me is actors saying they were not as open-minded when they started filming but understand the conflict much better now after they were acting it out and can even imagine falling for someone with the same gender. I thought every one of them doesn't care, but I guess they do.
What really disgusted me in the video "BL: Broken Fantasy" was when this director was talking about the camera man turning away to vomit when the BL leads would kiss. I have no words for how disgusting, inhumane and respectless this is. He even said, the whole crew tends to be homophobic which is like what the f**k?! And he added, he was surprised when he was shooting a film with a japanese crew that offended no one which is so low standard, it's sad. No wonder the atmosphere between the actors and crew behind the scenes looks tense and not that close.
Fanservice
So, here's the problem I've been thinking about for some time now because it's the most viewable one and appears everywhere. I hate fanservice. I just want a normal boring interview with the actors and I'm happy but I stopped watching interviews with BL leads because it's packed with so much wannabe-cutesy fanservice, it's actually uncomfortable. What I don't like about it is that it looks so forced and fake. You can tell just by watching they are only doing it because the contracts say so. They gain money - and I don't believe it's just a bit - to make the fans happy. It's just a part of the promotion but it leads to many problematic situations with fans. I'm not saying Hollywood is much different. During the red carpet shows are so many screaming, crying and fading fans, it's ridicolous. I'm not such a fan and will never be because I don't sympathize with this kind of cult. But at least I feel like Hollywood kind of protects their stars more. In the BL industry the fans can get very close and the promotion is more about the shipping couple than the show itself which causes these big personality cults I already addressed here.
I have two examples: MaxTul and SaintZee. They are not so different when it comes to fanservice but their chemistries are not comparable. MaxTul seem to care about each other whereas SaintZee don't seem to be very close. MaxTul have fun and much of it is fanservice which gets cut into cringey edits on YT but they have a vibe. They look each other in the eyes and know what the other thinks - at least, I have the feeling they do. Their whole friendship looks honest and healthy. In contrast, SaintZee were pretending a lot. It's pretty clear, it was all for the fanservice. They touched so much, it hurt because they wanted to please the production company and follow their contract and out of fear to do something wrong, they overdid it. And then, they had a fallout which wasn't very surprising, because I believe the atmosphere between them was very tense and all that touching was too much.
End
In conclusion, I hope things will change but it's such a long process, it's gonna take years. Now the BL industry doesn't look very bright in my eyes and it's gonna take a while to convince me otherwise. So, I decided for myself that I can consume the shows but won't care about the promotion any more.
I was too close to quit watching yesterday to just ignore it. I got mad again while writing this so I'm just gonna say, I will definetely watch "lovely writer" and "call it what you want" until the end because I wanna know more about this. I wanna know more about what happens behind the scenes.
Anyway, I hope I haven't turned your mood down 🙃
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dramaqueeenamby · 4 years
Text
WAP • Steve R. & Thor O.
Tumblr media
A/N: Smut. No plot at all. Just smut. THIS IS A ONESHOT. 
Warnings: SMUT. 18+. Threesome. Double penetration. Oral (male and female both receiving and giving). Cum kink?. Light choking. Very light dom theme.
Words: 3.4K 
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You wanted to fuck Steve.
But you also wanted to fuck Thor.
It was a problem, a persistent desire that lapped at you even while doing the most mundane tasks such as sitting in on a teleconference meeting with either of them. They spoke politics. You thought dirty.
It was the textbook definition of unprofessional, but damnit, you wanted what you wanted, and you wanted them both.
Separately, of course.
Or maybe at the same time.
The thought sent chills up your spine and throughout your core.
The infatuation began the first day you accepted the job as Stark’s assistant. And that was another thing, your desire initially geared toward Tony. Maybe it was the wife and kid that obliterated the flame. You couldn’t do that to a family man no matter how badly you wanted to literally do the family man.
Some things, some people, were just off limits.
Stark was one of them.
And so, you’d accepted your position as his assistant and became okay with the fact that it was the only position the retired playboy could put you in.
Perhaps that was what did it. You’d never liked not having someone to play with.
And here walked in Stars and Stripes, himself. For a fossil, he played the role of everyday Jake quite well.
There were tiny telltale signs, however, that he was truly the right man living in the wrong time.
For one, his damn wardrobe. Slacks and a button up shirt. That was all you ever saw him in. Goddamnit, the man was in desperate need of some jeans or even better—gray sweats.
And his hair, it was always slicked back. You could always imagine him standing in the mirror of his one-bedroom apartment, making sure it looked presentable.
No one gave a damn about that anymore.
You just wanted to reach up and mess it for him half the time or grab onto it as he ate you out from off the copy machine, but you digressed.
And his speech, so proper, so focused on the semantics. Two things he never did: contractions, profanity, and you.
Okay, so that was three, but your prayer was to get it to two!
Or was it to nail two of them?
That brought you to Thor.
That smug, son of a bitch.
You wanted to slap that smirk off his face at least once a day and smother his face at least once every half hour. A good balance, if you could say so yourself.
You knew his dick was big. You just knew it. So was Steve. It’s just you weren’t sure if Born In the USA remembered how to use it. That wasn’t a concern with Thor. You saw how he eyed some of the interns and trainees. Hell, even Natasha before she promptly put him in his place.
That selfish bitch.
You’d give anything to have him put you in your place.
Right on top of his dick.
And it wasn’t like you were enduring a dick famine. You had several men on rotation, but they were all so boring. There was no spark there, anymore. Half the time, you had to do all of the work anyhow, and that just simply wasn’t fair.
You deserved better.
You deserved the Dream Dick Team.
“Scan these in for me.” Stark dropped a stack of paperwork onto your desk with his left hand while reading over another massive pile in his right. “Thanks, kid.”
You reached over, grabbing it already knowing that I had to be separated and sorted as well. Stark’s method of organization didn’t exactly correspond with the systems that the company used, but it did help to eat up time, so there was that.
“I do have a name, you know.”
“I know. It’s kid.” He called out, disappearing down the hall, oblivious to the middle finger you flashed his way.
“I saw that.”
Or maybe not.
“Sorry, boss.”
You didn’t actually mean it. One of the benefits of working for Stark, sans the much-needed medical coverage, was that the line between professionalism and unprofessionalism was pretty damn blurred. And no one smudged that line more than Stark. He was a fun boss, which made you inclined to believe he was equally as fun in the sheets, not that you would ever get to find out.
Your huff was laced with disappointment and frustration.
All of the good ones really were taken. Or too damn polite to choke you and spit in your mouth. Or from another fucking planet with an abundance of readily available alien pussy.
A tiny gasp emitted as you shuffled through the paperwork. What if they had multiple genitalia or some shit? The thought nearly brought tears to your eyes. Double penetration. Double the pleasure. Double the fun. And fuck forever—ever ever.
This was so damn cruel. The universe clearly didn’t want to see you and your four holes happy, and you were sick and tired of the ardent disrespect.
“Greetings, Y/N.”
Goddamn that fucking greeting bullshit. Unless it was a greeting between your mouth and his dick, you didn’t want to hear it.
“Captain. Thor.” You nodded to each of them, respectively, fully aware of the discomfort that stemmed from Steve.
“I’ve told you, Y/N. Steve is just fine.”
“How about daddy?”
Okay. So, a couple of things could happen in that moment. You could slide back in your chair with wheels and knock your head into the desk until you were unconscious. You could roll back in that chair with wheels, and sprint like you stole something. Or, you could play dumb and pretend what you just said wasn’t really what you just said.
All seemed viable options, really, and you were leaning more toward the sprinting.
But then something happened, something completely horrible and disgusting and despicable and just vile.
He laughed.
The motherfucker laughed.
You.....what?
And then, he made it even worse.
“Sure, why not.”
You pushed your braids behind your ears. Maybe your hearing was off. Yeah, that was it. You were way overdo for an appointment with the ENT doctor, anyway.
“Excuse me?”
This time, Thor spoke. “He’s been waiting some time, Lady Y/N. For you to say that. We both have.”
Your eyes darted from side to side. “What?”
Steve stuffed his hands in his slacks and shrugged. “It’s true, but we knew you’d finally say something when you were ready.”
“Say what?”
Steve spoke so plainly, so calmly, so unlike everything that you were currently feeling. “That you want us to fuck you.”
Sweet, Black Baby Jesus. It’d finally happened. The world had gone to hell in a handbasket.
That was literally the only explanation for not only what was just said, but for what followed what was just said.
“So, come on.”
You struggled but managed a response. “C-come where.”
“Hmm. Preferably, all over that pretty face of yours.”
“Or the pretty lips.”
But, for now, with us.”
You know those moments where all you can do is say what in the actual fuck is life? Well, that statement was made for moments like this. Kelly Clarkson was definitely onto something.
“Y/N.” You jumped in your seat when you realized that he was merely inches away from your face, fists into the desk. “We won’t ask again.”
The sensible thing to do was to continue to probe to figure out just what level of hell this was. Dante should have showed up at any minute. But what did your dumbass do? You slid back in your chair with wheels, stood, and allowed the two men you considered bosses to lead you down the hall, into the elevator, and into the same conference room where you often patiently sat and waited to the side for Stark to finish.
And unfortunately, it was never on you.
Except, this time, you weren’t in the corner, you were on the table, courtesy of Thor picking you up and placing you down as if you were a lightweight.
He stepped back and stood beside Steve while you just looked like any meme from the mid to late 2000’s, still 100% confused as to what in Beyonce’s name was going on.
“Where do we start with you?” Steve spoke to himself, or maybe Thor too, your brain was too foggy to pay too much attention to where or who his words were directed.
“Take your clothes off. Everything.”
Like the dumbass bitch you are, you looked from side to side and pointed to yourself. “Me?”
Wrong move, Dory.
With inhuman speed, Thor stood in front of you, hand around your throat. His grip was loose but firm, so much so that your thighs pushed together. God, you wanted him to squeeze tighter.
“Now.”
And just like that, he was back next to Steve. You wasted no time in following orders this time around. You couldn’t unbutton your blouse fast enough, tossing it to the floor. Every other piece of clothing that covered your body followed suit until you were completely nude, back sitting on the table, legs pressed together.
Well, initially.
The silence was making you uncomfortable. You craved some type of communication. Contact would be even better. And the way they were just looking at you, it didn’t help.
Gradually, your legs parted, revealing your bare pussy. God, you were grateful you kept that wax appointment. It didn’t miss you how Thor’s brow quipped, and Steve’s jaw twitched.
A small smile played on your face as you innocently asked. “What?”
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so innocent, but time was of the essence, and you needed your essence to be spilling from here to the 98th floor sooner rather than later.
“She mocks us.”
“It seems so.”
Holy fuck, this was getting to be fun. You’d hooked their attention, now you just had to reel it in. Your right hand seemed to sense the pending activities and wanted to get a jump. Slowly lifting from its firmly planted spot on the table, your hand moved to your full breast, down your stomach folds, over your fupa, and bow chika wow wow.
You chewed on your bottom lip when you felt your kitty. She was already leaking dew.
“Fuck yourself.”
Two words. One task. Mission: accepted.
You went to work, your three middle fingers working in perfect synchronization, tending to your sensitive and neglected bud. God, you’d masturbated in the shower just this morning, but this felt so different. Probably because of the two men who stood before you. Speaking of, you opened your eyes and grinned wryly at their reactions.
They were pissed, and that only caused a loud moan to leave your mouth as you slapped your own cunt, loving the sound it made because of the slickness.
“I’m so fucking wet.” You played around with your wetness, lifting your hand and sticking your fingers in your mouth, licking each digit one by one, dropping your hand to your breast and playing with your nipples. “Oh my fucking God.”
You were gradually making yourself a sticky mess, not to mention, the mess you’d made all over the table, but you gave not a single fuck. The only fuck, fucks, you gave were about the two men who stood before you.
Returning your hand to your throbbing pussy, you laid back on the table so that you could reach deeper, plunging your fingers inside, milking yourself. Every so often, you’d remove your fingers and spread your juice all over your vaginal area. Call it a kink, but you loved the feeling of cum all over your body. Yours. His. Anyone’s. It was just a serious thrill for you.
“Fuck!” You shouted just as you started to feel the familiar intensity brewing in the pit of your stomach because your ankles were grabbed, harshly yanking you down off the table. Your feet never touched the ground, however, because you were laid on your stomach over the arms of a wheely chair.
Seconds later, your hips were lifted, your ass perked up in the air.
“I think she’s ready for us, don’t you, Thor?” You whined. You could feel Steve’s cool breath on your pussy. He had to be centimeters away from fulfilling ½ of your dream fucking, and yet was insisting on this tantalizing yet frustrating wait.
“Would you just eat my fucking pussy alr--” You shouted as he silenced your protest with obedience. Holy fucking hell, if you could, you would have screamed so loud that all of Manhattan could hear you. He lapped and sucked with an insatiable hunger, booty jerking around but only momentarily as he brought his hands to your hips to hold you still while he feasted.
You dropped your head only to have it yanked up by Thor grabbing a fistful of your braids and forcing you to look at him.
“Such a pretty mouth.” Your eyes almost bugged out of your fucking head when you saw his massive dick, hard and dripping with cum, just hanging in front of you. You were already salivating in anticipation when he used his thumb to part your full lips. “We shall see if you can use it to please your king.”
Without even so much as a warning, he forced your mouth open with his thick fingers and forced your jaw to its absolute max as he stuffed his even thicker dick in your mouth, You immediately felt him stabbing the back of your throat, and the sensation brought tears to your eyes and butterflies to your stomach.
He didn’t have you too shook though because you immediately went to slurping and deepthroating, bracing your elbows on the arms of the chair while holding onto his hips to stabilize you.
Thor’s head went to the top of your head, taking a fistful of your braids. You peaked up over your eyelids to see his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth tensed. You were so proud of yourself that you took another inch, practically gagging as tears continued to spill from your eyes. The tears a combination of how stuffed you felt, orally, and from the oral pleasure America’s finest was causing down below.
God, who would have thought the fossil could eat pussy so well?
Thor had started face fucking you, the intensity of the thrusts of his hips into your mouth causing the chair to slide back and forth. Still, Steve’s mouth stayed attached to your pussy, and by now, your entire lower half was a stick hot mess.
And you fucking loved it.
It was enough to make you cum. Again, that was.
Even as Steve made you cum, Thor refused to allow you the room to breathe. This caused an intensity in your tears. It was so blissfully overwhelming. You hadn’t a clue what you’d done to deserve this, but goddamnit were you relieved.
Hell wasn’t so bad after all, and if Dante wanted to join in, the more, the merrier.
You moaned, mouthful of Thor, when Steve pulled out only for your ears and ass to perk up when you felt something thick and hot against your ass. “Such a sweet pussy.”
“Is she?”
“Absolutely,” Steve grunted, reaffirming his grasp on your hips. “Now to feel you around my dick.”
Impaled. Stuffed. Exploding. Those were all words that only halfheartedly described how you felt. You didn’t have to see Steve to know that he was big in girth and long in length, I.e. the perfect combination. He was so deep inside of you, hips repeatedly and firmly clashing into yours, driving his dick deeper and deeper into you.
By now, Thor had also freed your mouth and allowed your jaw a respite, but not before emptying all over your face. Your pussy clenched against Steve as you excitedly allowed your tongue to travel as much of your mouth as you could, sucking in Thor’s cum. It was simply majestic, as was he, as was this entire fucking, well, fucking.
Your moans and screams echoed and bounced off every wall, surely reverberating down the hall and across the various floors. You gave absolutely zero fucks. All of New York could hear you for all you cared.
Thor continued to jerk off in front of you, still very much hard even after splattering you with his cum.
What a God.
As expected, Steve made you cum several times, squirting the last time, the first time you’d ever done so. It was more than you could have ever asked for. And yet, it truly was the gift that kept on giving.
After completely filling you with him cum, Steve pulled out of you, making sure to use his fingers to smear the cum that leaked all over your pussy lips.
Seconds later, they switched, Thor was behind you, Steve in front of you. However, Thor quickly flipped you over so that you were on you back and stood between your spread and tacky thighs.
“Do you think you can take me, little one?” He asked mockingly, fingers playing with the cum on your stomach. You nodded furiously, only to feel your jaw grabbed and head craned back.
Steve’s bulbous head tapped against your lips. You opened eagerly, downing him at the same moment Thor slammed into you. If not for them steadying you, you would have jumped right off that chair. Steve was big, but Thor was massive and curved. A curved dick was your dream come true.
Actually, being dually fucked by a God and Captain America yourself was your dream, and now, a reality.
What an afterlife.
The both took you, front and back, roughly. You were being whisked back and forth like a rag doll, your titties flopping all over the place. Whiplash was most definitely a concern as well as the inability to walk tomorrow, or ever, but really, what a better way to be rendered incapacitated?
I mean, Steve was literally beating on the little dangly thang that swing in the back of your throat, and had you been able to look down, you could almost bet you could see Thor in your fucking stomach. He was just that deep.
This was the hill you would die on, and you couldn’t be happier.
Your face was damp from persistent tears and tacky from slowly drying cum, a layer of light sweat soaking you from head to toe, and you knew that your edges were shot, but none of that mattered, especially when Thor pulled out and started to eat you out, your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him. He could stay there forever. They both could.
Unfortunately, all god things must come to a respite, or whatever the fairy tales said.
After cumming at least 87.5 times, they both freed your beaten and thoroughly used mouth and vagina. There was so much cum, it was splattered all over your pelvis, dripping onto the floor. You’d never been so stuffed. Literally.
“Are you okay?”
Thor asked, or maybe Steve. You were too physically exhausted to pay that much attention, your eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking divine.”
“Excuse me?”
Your eyes shot open and you were met with puzzled expressions from both Thor and Steve.
You looked around, you were seated in your desk, hair still intact, fully clothed, edges still laid. You paused.
What the fuck?
“Are you sure you’re alright, darling?” Steve’s concerned voice broke your stunned trance. This....this couldn't be happening. No fucking way. You did not just dream all that. It wasn’t possible. It was too damn real.
And yet....
You felt at your face. It was moisturized, but with CeraVe. Not CeraCum.
“It was a fantasy....” You whispered to yourself, holding back tears. “None of it was real.”
“Would you like us to talk to Stark about allowing you to get off earlier?”
Your eyes widened. “But, I already did,” you all but whined.
Thor whispered to Steve. “Is this what you Midgardians call a psychotic break?”
This was cruel, beyond cruel, sinfully wicked. You had no words. Thor and Steve watched as you whined while gathering your shit. You didn't even bother clocking out or shutting off the computer. You just had to get out of there and fast.
You said not a word to either men as you stumped off completely done with the day, and, well, life. 
It wasn’t until you entered the elevator that both men chuckled.
“This is going to be fun.”
“No, she is.” 
Steve and Thor chuckled, anticipation for the next time already brewing. 
340 notes · View notes
bluebellwriting · 4 years
Text
Love Me Tender part 1
An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister
You were in the middle of baking a cake when your little brother and the two girls dead-set on helping him walked into the hotel. It was supposed to be a celebratory-post-interview cake/congratulations-on-Angel-being-clean-for-two-days cake, but after you heard the interview from the little radio you had set up in the kitchen, it was now a condolences cake. Also Angel was no longer receiving any cake, which would probably be the only thing to motivate him to stay clean for a few days. 
You love your little brother with all your heart, as you do with all of your siblings, but you had to all but force him to come to this hotel because you were sick of watching him kill himself for shits and giggles... well, not “kill” himself, but you get it. And he just wasn’t taking this seriously. It’s not like you wanted him redeemed, even if you did believe in it. The best part about being in Hell was that you were finally reunited with your siblings and dad. But if these girls could at least get him to stop putting himself in precarious situations and therefore cause you a little less grief, you would be eternally grateful. So you stayed at the hotel with him, just to keep him in check and also to take break from the drama that was Hell’s respective mafias. Charlie had also begged you to stay because you were an excellent cook and baker from years of making meals for your hopeless siblings.
You poke your head out of the kitchen door to see Charlie sulking and Vaggie scolding your brother. Sighing, you return to your cake, deciding to have a little chat with Angel afterwards. You couldn’t handle any arguing right now. You had just had a rather annoying conversation with your other brother regarding Angel’s progress, how you should give up on him and just come back to work with him and your dad:
“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.
“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”
“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”
“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.
So yeah, you really just wanted to shove your face in the bitter dark chocolate confection as soon as possible. Now that they were all home and somewhat safe, you took this moment to turn the volume up on your radio, letting some Ella Fitzgerald and Doris Day drown out the arguments. You also apparently drowned out the arrival of a red-clad overlord. 
“So tell me, what do you have here in way of a staff?” Alastor scans the lobby of the hotel, quite unimpressed with the choice in decor and the dust. Honestly, there was dust everywhere, it was disgusting.
“Well...” Charlie motions towards the glowering moth demon and he shakes his head. How did the young princess expect to get this place off the ground with a less than welcoming manager and a debauched patron? Speaking of...
Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile. 
“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”
“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.
“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.
“There’s also my sister.” Alastor’s ears perk up and he strolls over to the door. As he nears, his sensitive ears pick up the sound of Ella Fistgerald, the distinct sound of radio static, and another feminine voice singing quietly along. Alastor’s grin widens as he slowly opens the door so as not to make a sound. Revealing you, an incredibly small and ample young lady making frosting. He leans against the doorframe, watching your fluffy (h/c) hair bounce around and your ample hips swaying to the melody of “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” a song from before his time but not too much later. He takes a whiff and smells the familiar bitterness of dark chocolate, the only sweet thing he can remotely bear. Well, this establishment is just full of surprises, isn’t it?
He’s not quite sure how much time passes, in all honesty he’s perfectly content watching you shimmy your way around the kitchen, which is strange for him. He can count on one hand the number of people he enjoys spending more than ten minutes with. Well, maybe he’ll just have to add you to the list, if your taste in music is anything to go by at least.
“Hey sis! Ya got a secret admirer!” The shrill voice of Angel rings in his ears and causes you to whip around and brace yourself against the counter. You wrap both sets of arms around yourself like a shield and frown at him briefly. Alastor freezes at the hard glare, even if it’s only on your face for an instant before it softens to a confused stare. 
You recognized the Radio Demon immediately because, unlike your brother you actually kept up with politics. You made it your business to know who was worth knowing and who was dangerous enough to avoid, and thankfully up until this point you were able to avoid his path of carnage. But the man before you isn’t smiling wickedly like you had always imagined. There isn’t blood in his teeth nor is he invading your space with the intention to strike. No, this man is just standing idly in the doorway with a wide, friendly smile. And he’s tall, like really tall. And way too thin. Goodness, when was the last time he ate?
“Um... hello,” you say quietly, still keeping your arms around you, a habit when you’re around strange men. He lurches forward and you flinch, not just because you’re scared of him specifically (you are a bit though), but because you have a... complicated history with men rushing you. 
He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.
“Alastor, darling. A pleasure.” His voice is oozing static and glee, but he’s not as loud as you thought he would be. He leans down and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman, something you haven’t experienced since you were a young girl.
“And who might you be, darling?” You catch your brother passing by the doorway, snickering at you and you realize that he still hasn’t released your hand. You tug it away from him and give him a polite but small smile.
“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”
“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought. 
The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.
“Why that smells delicious, dearie.” He strolls over to the oven in only two steps and plucks your cakes out of the oven with a bare hand. You gawk at him, because he seems completely unbothered by the scorching metal in his hands. He crosses the kitchen back to you and places the pans down on the counter, flashing you a proud smile like he’s showing off.
“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of sweets, though. But this smells so good, I’ll just have to try.” He goes to snag some of the cake from a pan and your older-sister instincts take over before you can even stop yourself. You smack his hand. You smack the Radio Demon’s hand. His neck snaps towards you at a painful angle at an inhuman speed. His eyes turn into radio dials and his smile is just vicious. But you don’t seem to care in this moment and just shoot him a stern glare.
“You can’t have any yet. It’s hot and I still need to frost it. You can have some when it’s ready with everyone else,” you tell him simply and bump his rigid body to the side with your hip to begin frosting.
Alastor is stunned. Because he hates being touched when he doesn’t expect it or initiate it. Because years of being an overlord means that you have to keep your guard up for any sort of attack but he doesn’t seem to mind when it comes from you. Because you weren’t actually attacking him you were just... protecting your cake? Because you didn’t seem to really care who he was in that moment and he kind of liked that, that you weren’t afraid to defend what was yours, even if it was a cake. Because you weren’t just a shy little spider anymore. You were spunky.
He wills his eyes to return to normal and smirks at you. He reaches on long arm over your shoulder and attempts to steal some frosting but one of your arms smacks his hand away again. He continues, his attempted assault on your cake and each time one of your arms smacks him away while the others focus on frosting the cake expertly. You’re quite annoyed by his mocking. Alastor is the most entertained he’s been in years. He loves the way your eyebrows crease together as you concentrate on piping, and the wrinkling of your nose when he gets too close to ruining said piping. 
When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.
“Are you done?” you ask. He just gives you an innocent smile in return and shrugs his shoulders. You roll your eyes and push past him to carry the cake out into the lobby for everyone to enjoy. He stays in the kitchen a moment longer, watching you march away and taking in the tingling felt on the spot where your small form brushed against him. He’s shocked, completely and utterly shocked at how much he wants to hold on to that tingling feeling. 
The radio continues to play as the song finishes
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Alastor decided then and there that he was going to make it his mission to get you more comfortable around him, if it meant he’d get to see more of the spirited young lady with excellent music taste. 
Dream a little dream of me
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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 years
Text
There are clouds on my sky
After Sansa accidentally comes out as a lesbian to her parents she has a talk with her dad. Little did she know he understands exactly what she’s going through
This fic has mentions of homophobia and fear of not being accepted, so if that doesn’t feel right to read for you, please skip this one. And also, I just want to say that I can only write based on my own feelings and experiences, but that is different to everyone and this is not accurate for every LGBTQ+ person
But anyway, happy pride month, I wish everyone the very best <33
“You’ll have to take me out again soon” Jeyne smiled.
Sansa smiled as well. She had never really thought about what walking on sunshine would be like, but in the moment she was sure of that she was doing it. She was walking on sunshine. She was made of sunshine. Jeyne was nothing like anyone Sansa had met before. She was amazing.
They had had a picnic at the beach. And it had been just perfect. They had brought strawberries and mangoes and pineapple. All the best fruits. Though their sweetness had been nothing compared to Jeyne. Jeyne had kissed her. She could barely think about it without blushing. Oh she was in love. She had to be. There was no other explanation for her feelings.
“I promise” Sansa said, trying not to grin like an idiot.
She was probably failing.
“Good.”
That sight. Jeyne, a flower in her hair, standing in the sun with a smile on her face. Sansa had never seen anything more beautiful.
In a moment of courage, or maybe recklessness, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Jeyne’s lips. She could feel Jeyne’s hands on her shoulders and Sansa laid her hands on her arms. She was warm, and real, and just so utterly perfect.
“Bye” Jeyne said when they parted.
“Bye.”
She watched as Jeyne walked down the street. She looked after her until she took a turn and disappeared behind a house. The whole world was made of sunshine and rainbows and everything good.
That was until Sansa turned to walk up the driveway to her house and met the eyes of her mother.
Mom was standing on the porch. Sansa couldn’t read her face. Her heart dropped in her chest. Her mother always had her feelings on the outside, why did she just look empty?
“Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude” Mom said.
She hated her. Her mom hated her. Her mom was disgusted by her. Her mom had just had her worst nightmare confirmed. That had to be it. Did she even want to be Sansa’s mother anymore?
Sansa had many times imagined how she would come out. She had had it all planned out in her head. She was going to bake a pride cake and she was going to sit down and tell them and it would be good. They would accept her and they would be happy for her.
She had not imagined she would come out by accidentally kissing a girl in front of her mother. And she had not thought her mother would be disgusted by it. She had not thought Mom would mind. She was fine with her Uncle Brynden, and Uncle Benjen. She had smiled widely when Jon introduced them to his boyfriend Satin. Why did she hate her?
“I was going to tell you” Sansa said, trying to keep the tears burning in her eyes under control. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not what you want me to be.”
“What are you..? Oh.”
Mom’s face softened. She walked down the stairs and came over to Sansa, pulling her into a hug. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. She could just cry against her mother’s shoulder. Mom held her tightly while she was shaking with sobs.
“Don’t be sorry, my darling girl. Never apologize for who you are. I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am, I am sorry for making you believe that I’m disappointed in you. For making you believe that I don’t accept you for this. I love you, and I always will. No matter what. Do you understand?”
Sansa nodded, holding onto Mom a little tighter. She was afraid, she could still feel her heart beating in her chest.
“You don’t hate me?” she sniffled.
“Of course not, Sansa. How could I ever hate you for who you love? It’s the most natural thing in the world.”
Neither of them said anything after that. They just stood there, Sansa wrapped into Mom’s arms. It felt good to have someone stroke her hair and softly hush her until she could breathe again.
“I’m sorry for one more thing, actually” Mom said and drew back slightly to look at her.
Sansa looked back at her. Looked at her face.
“What?”
“I’m sorry for that you did not get to do this at your own terms and when you were ready.”
Sansa saw a movement next to Mom’s face and when she turned her eyes towards it she saw her father. Mom also turned to see what Sansa was looking at.
“You don’t have to say anything unless you don’t want to” she said.
Dad tilted his head slightly to the side, clearly not wanting to ask. But she was ready, she had been ready before. She had just been taken by surprise. She had been surprised and afraid.
“Dad?”
“Yes, Sansa?”
She took a deep breath. In and out. 
“I’m a lesbian.”
Her father merely raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, would you like to talk about it?”
She didn’t know what reaction she had expected, but she was sure of that that wasn’t it.
“What do you mean?”
What was there to talk about? She had said it, it was out there, there was really nothing to talk about. She understood that they accepted her, but could they really understand her? She loved them, they were her parents, but they were also in a wildly heterosexual marriage.
“I mean that I might have more insight in this than you know.”
“You’re confusing me.”
Mom only smiled and kissed her temple.
“I’ll leave you two to it” she said.
She walked back to the porch and disappaered into the house again, closing the door behind her. Dad sat on the top of the stairs and gestured for Sansa to come sit next to him. She wouldn’t lie to herself, she was quite curious. So she slowly walked over to the porch and sat next to him.
“Now when you have told me something about you, I would like to tell you something about me” he said, looking up at the clear sky.
“And what is that?”
“Sansa?”
“Yes, Dad?”
There was a pause before his answer.
“I’m bisexual.”
That was a surprise. To say the least. She had never heard him, or anyone, say anything that I suggested that he was anything other than straight. Though she supposed that was just buying into the heteronormativity. Assuming without knowing. Though she hadn’t exactly been going on nothing.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Mhm. I dated a guy before I met your mother.”
“I didn’t know that.”
When she thought of it she had barely seen any photos from before he and Mom were together. And it never really occurred to her that they must have been with others before they met each other. It was reasonable. But in Sansa’s mind it had always been them. Maybe because as long as she had lived it had been them.
“That’s not so strange, I barely talk about it anymore. I’ll always be proud of who I am, but I prefer to keep it among people I trust.”
“Did your family know?”
Sansa had told her siblings and Jon a month or two earlier. She had made them promise not to tell anyone else, and they hadn’t. She hadn’t really wanted others to know. She had seen what others her age sometimes said and did to people who were gay. She almost had trouble breathing just from thinking about it. And she couldn’t even imagine how it had been for Dad. Things were better than they had been before. She could trust her family. She could trust her friends.
“They did.”
“How did they find out? And what did they think of it?”
Dad sighed, suddenly looking sad. And before he even said anything Sansa knew. Her fears had been his reality. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked that. But she had really wanted to know what it had been like for him, she had never talked to anyone else about it before.
“My brothers and my sister didn’t really care. I was their brother no matter what, but my parents were more... well, they leaned towards the conservative side. I wasn’t planning on telling them, but a friend of theirs saw me and my boyfriend at the time in a restaurant, and told them. What happened after that wasn’t very pretty. But I don’t want you to think about that, I want you to focus on the beautiful thing in finding yourself and who you are.”
He smiled at her then and ruffled her hair.
“That might just be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard” Sansa muttered when she reached up to fix her hair again. “‘Beautiful thing in finding yourself’, ugh.”
“Ah, you’re Catelyn’s daughter” Dad chuckled.
It was a relief to hear that and know that it was true in everyone’s hearts. She was her mother’s daughter, her mother didn’t hate her.
“Though it is nice. Understanding yourself” she said.
For so long she had thought that there was just something wrong with her. Every time she thought about being with a boy it didn’t feel right at all. While her friends were all gushing about cute boys she had been trying so hard to understand, but she hadn’t. And then she had been horrified when she realized that what they thought about boys she thought about girls. It took her time to come to terms with it, but once she had it just felt right. It felt like she was finally where she was supposed to be. Though once she had reached that place she had also been afraid of that others wouldn’t think it was right.
“It’s very nice” he agreed.
“I didn’t understand for so long, but now I do and it’s the greatest feeling in the world. Everything felt wrong, and now it doesn’t anymore. I was just afraid you wouldn’t understand.”
“I get that. But long ago I decided that no matter what my kids turned out to be I would love and accept them. Because every child should be loved and accepted, making your child feel otherwise is inhumane. And I wish the world was a better place, I wish you didn’t have to be afraid of people not accepting you. If I could protect you from the people wishing harm upon people like us I would. And I’m sorry I can’t. I hate that I can’t.”
“It’s not your fault, Dad. But it’s scary. That moment when Mom was looking at me and I... I thought she didn’t accept me. I thought she hated me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to handle the thought of that she didn’t like what I am.”
She could feel the tears rise in her eyes again. Dad just moved closer to her and pulled her into a one armed hug. She leaned into it and rested her head on his shoulder. When had she last hugged her dad like that? She didn’t know.
“She was very supportive when I told her that the man that everyone thought had been my best friend had actually been my boyfriend. She can’t fully understand, but she has stood by my side and supported me for very many years now, and I wouldn’t want her anywhere else. I love her.”
“Like you loved him?” she asked.
“I have never loved anyone like I love your mother, but I did love him too. It took me a long time to realize, and a long time to come to terms with it, but once I did I was happy to love him. And when that was over and in the past it was hard to realize that I loved your mother. Because how could I love her when she was a woman and I had loved a man before that? You see, no one had explained bisexuality to me so I had to figure it out on my own. Most people thought that you were either gay or straight and that there were nothing else. But once I understood that it was fully possible to love both I was happy to love her as well.”
It was like it had been for her. She was glad she had him. She was glad he told her about his experience. It made it a little easier. She was glad he and Mom weren’t like her grandparents had been.
“I’m happy to love Jeyne” Sansa said.
“Is that her name?”
She couldn’t help but smile then. Just the thought of Jeyne made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. What would she have done if she had not met Jeyne?
“Yes. I met her when I was working at the cafe this spring. She’s wonderful.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“All through my childhood I have seen the way you and Mom look at each other. And I have known that no matter who I am with, I want that person to look at me that way. And it feels like I have found it.”
“Then I’m so very happy for you, Sansa.”
“Thank you. I’ll take her here someday so that you can meet her. You’ll love her too, there’s nothing about her that’s not to love.”
Dad kissed her forehead.
“I hope that maybe society is better than it was when I was your age” he mumbled. “And I’ll never let what happened to me happen to you.”
“Does it still hurt you?”
“Sometimes. I most often remember my parents as good people, but sometimes that can be hard. Because even though they eventually accepted that I wouldn’t change for them and tried to be okay with it because they were my parents and they loved me, that initial part still hurt a great deal. I try not to feel guilty for who I am, but it can be hard as well. Most often it doesn’t hurt though, not anymore. I’m at a good place now, I’m surrounded by great people and my lovely family. And you’ll be too. But from the beginning.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s really the bare minimum.”
She raised her head to look at him.
“No, I mean thank you for telling me. It was, well, not exactly nice, but it felt good to hear. And it means a lot to me.”
Some part of it had been terrible to hear, some things she wished had never happened to her dad. But she felt lighter than she had been before. She felt more understood. And she couldn’t for a moment think that they didn’t accept her.
“There’s so much more that I can’t say, stuff that you need to figure out on your own. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that I’m always here for you no matter what. Mom is, as well.”
“I know that now and I have a question that you might be able to answer.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Do you ever feel like you’re not really what you are? Like, do you doubt that you’re bisexual sometimes? Because sometimes I feel like that.”
She had been overcome with that several times. The feeling of that she was some sort of imposter, that she didn’t deserve to call herself a lesbian.
“I don’t, but I know others have. Some people were happy to hiss at me like I was a tratior for falling in love with and marrying a woman. And others were happy to see that I had finally abandoned the gay, sinful, part of myself and turned straight. People will try to make you doubt yourself, don’t listen to them, Sansa. Listen to yourself and do what feels right for you.”
“And what if I realize that I’m not a lesbian? What do I do then?”
That was another thing she was terrified for. 
“That’s entirely alright. Change your label if you feel like your current one doesn’t suit you. You can even choose not to label yourself at all, if you feel better that way. This really is different for everyone, just do your thing.”
“Is it really that easy?”
“Yeah.”
Sansa smiled and hugged him again. Properly that time, with both her arms. Dad hugged her back, held her.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, Sansa.”
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therealsehinton · 3 years
Text
i think one of the suckiest things about being an overall outspoken person on the internet is that i often get grouped in with other outspoken people, especially if we often share similar opinions. and it’s one thing for me to be called problematic for “constantly calling innocent people out,” i can handle people thinking that of me and it isn’t all that objectively wrong. but it’s an issue when people assume my morals, and i find it weird because i feel like i’ve made my morals pretty clear and yet people constantly misrepresent them
people like to assume i am a hypocrite i guess, because “i allow myself and my friends to ship this one ship with a 3 year age difference and not this other ship” or “i can have all the race hcs i want but when someone else does they’re stealing/they’re racist” or “i can write all the sensitive materials i’d like but when other people do they’re pedos”
and, again, i think it’s weird because i feel like i’ve made my stance on everything abundantly clear? i think people are misconstruing my words and opinions to give themselves an excuse to hate me. and like. you can hate me all you want, that’s your right, but don’t hate me for silly reasons you’ve made up in your head
do i think people are racist when they hc characters to be white? uh, no. it’s not my business, i don’t agree and therefore i won’t interact with them, but i don’t think they’re racist. it’s their hc and i have my own. i think people are racist when they tell me “i don’t understand the implications of my hcs” or “they’re not realistic” or try to educate me on my own history, especially when they’re white. but having your own hc? that’s okay i don’t care. yes i make jokes but i use tone indicators and oh well, boo hoo, i make a few jokes. laugh babes! they’re funny
and i don’t think people who are inspired by hcs steal from me, and i like ppl being inspired by my ideas and i love being inspired by other people, and i love having conversations like “your idea is amazing can i use it in a fic?” or “that’s great i’m stealing that.” but it’s very suspicious when you take a hc of mine and then block me, cuz if you block me after using one of my hcs it’s extremely suspicious and it makes me think you got something weird up your sleeve. and i think i have every right to assume that like??? you blocked me
i don’t hate dallyboy and i will be 100% honest, i was always majorly annoyed when people just randomly shat on it for no reason. it’s a ship. it can be aged up. and i really don’t give a fuck and i don’t like the self righteous behavior so many people have when it comes to their pairings. you can say whatever you want about me, but i never act self righteous when it comes to the people i pair together, at least not un-ironically. and if people think me criticizing the romanticization of tally is self righteousness, i think you need to get your head checked. in all my critiques of tally i said i enjoyed the pairing i just thought it was WEIRD that you have two guys who canonically beat each other up physically and then 13 year olds are writing about them impregnating each other, it’s weird. and it trivializes domestic abuse and i think that’s a okay to say
also i’ve never called someone a pedophile, or even implied it. i don’t think that sex is a terrible inhumane thing that should never be written. and i don’t think that writing victims of sexual assualt or csa should be illegal. i believe that trauma porn is a horrible, awful, exploitation of graphic material and should be abolished in all forms. and idc if its tagged, its disgusting that it exists. and i will always hate trauma porn and i will continue to criticize you if you write it. i don’t care if you have good intentions or if the situation is “supposed to be bad.” there’s no reason any person should graphically write scenes of people getting assaulted or hate crimed or hurting themselves. and no i am not talking about just one person, and i’m not even talking about this fandom, and i’m not even looking out for “the children.” this is a genuine issue that is normalized on tv, on film, in books and in fanfiction. and it sucks that victims of racism and assault and etc are constantly subjected to people who play with their tortured fantasies of graphically depicting their trauma. 
anyways, idk what else to say. only that i don’t feel comfortable being grouped with a bunch of white 13 yo justice warriors who think they’re saving the world by constantly picking fights with adults/other people for no reason. if i argue it’s cause i’ve been tagged or vague posted, and i literally get vague posted all the time so atp i’m not even fighting with people who vague post me. i’m not gonna go out of my way to cause a scene or drama because i don’t need to scream what my morals are 24/7 so people understand that i’m “woke.” i don’t need to prove my wokeness to anyone, i’m a black enby lesbian so if i weren’t woke that’d be pretty fucking stupid of me 
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avada-kedavrugh · 4 years
Text
Biggest Mistake
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Summary | Imagine Jimin is your best friend and you’re hopelessly in love with him. See what happens with a fun old sprinkle of angst :)
This was a fan fiction I wrote like 2 years ago and I haven’t reread it properly but felt like posting it here
Pairing | Jimin x Reader
Genre | Unrequited? Love AU/ Best friend’s AU
Words | 2975
The blinding smile on his face grew as his eyes caught sight of you, the smile growing into a glowing grin that only became larger as he broke into a sprint, running towards you, mouthing the words you always longed to hear him say…
The thunderous sound of slamming against your front door was the rude interruption to your heavenly dream, a sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to open one eye, which quickly became disoriented to the sudden entry of dim light that squeezed itself through the curtains as you made an attempt to find out the time the demonic invader had decided to arrive.
Your eyes caught sight of your phone and with immense effort you attempted to perch forward and reach your phone, surprisingly, finding yourself crashing onto the floor in a wave of duvet and hair and an immense wave of pain.
“Y/N…” You heard a recognisable voice yell, probably disturbed by the loud sound, unaware of the sound that raced from your own chest “Are you alright?”
With a new and sudden wave of motivation you found yourself quickly stumbling towards the door, trying to make yourself look at least a tiny bit presentable after being woken up in the middle of the fucking night, or as some might say, 7am. Finally, opening the door you sighed, remembering the dream you had previously been indulging yourself in that had now been annoying ruined by your visitor.
“It’s my day off Ji-“ You began to complain.
That was until your eyes caught sight of him, the bowl cut blonde with a wide grin that only managed to make your own mouth fall as you took in the astonishing sight that you sadly were still not used to.
“Are you okay Y/N?” He eyebrows furrowing in concern as your eyes kept fixed upon his face
“Ye-Yeah,” You finally spluttered out, mouth moving back into an acceptable position of non-drawling “I thought I had been pranked, I almost didn’t see you down there” You teased, memorising the mix of amusement and irritation in his face as he moved closer to you, making your heart race, only worsened as he lightly hit your arm before brushing past you, entering your home, and simultaneously your heart.
“So, what brings you here?” You spoke, finally feeling the tiredness escape as your heart seemingly raced into action under the drowning beauty of Jimin.
“Well…I need you.”
Your eyes popped out of your sockets, as you looked at him, mouth once again mimicking that of a fish, as you attempted to splutter out a response while he just continued to smirk to himself, watching the red flush that spread across your cheeks.
“I need you to help me buy Hyuna a present.” He finally finished, gaging your reaction as you gradually returned to a mostly composed, perhaps almost human-like figure.
“Oh. Any reason? Or are you two just that lovey dovey?” You mocked, mind flashing back to the disgusting sights of Jimin with his tongue down her throat or with his arm snaked around her waist, the pair tightly wrapped together.
“It’s almost Valentine’s Day.” Jimin said, his eyes flickering with pity as you realised the date, realised your loneliness, and realised how fucked you were for falling in love with your best friend, particularly one that was now doing very well drowning his girlfriend with his tongue, completely unaware of the tears of sorrow you drowned yourself in after seeing the two together.
“Really? Where’s my date then?” You chuckled, his face finally lighting up
“Aren’t I good enough?” He laughed
“Of course, you are, but there’s something sort of in the way, the lil issue of your girlfriend, maybe?” You joked back, most of you hoping he never realisd  the truth within your jokes, though a sinister part of you begs for him to realise and finally confess his feelings to you, feelings, that were definitely non-existent.
Snapping back up to look at him you found his eyes looking at you with an unrecognisable expression, almost reading your own eyes for something, maybe he would finally understand the feeling of drowning in his eyes.
“I’ll help,” You started, snapping him out of his daze, as his eyes and lips curled up into a smile, grabbing your coat and shoes, ignoring how disastrous you looked at the dumb hour of the morning that you were sure, no one – except Jimin the clearly inhuman being – was awake at “Let’s go.”
You found yourself utterly wrong about the lack of humanity in a shopping centre at 7:30am, convincing you of the insanity of the human race. You had your hand clutched to Jimin's wrist as you attempted to manoeuvre out of the way of the groups of people emerging in the shops, silently judging you for your atrocious, ape-like appearance while you stood beside the groomed, angelic boy who was prepared for all the girls that threw glances obvious at him. Feeling the eyes on you, your heart racing and your mind repeating insults to yourself, you desperately entered a store, ignoring its contents as you tried to find an empty area to allow yourself to prepare for the judgemental stares the people gave. Summoning up all your courage you finally stopped and turned to look at the man who had just allowed you to drag him into the abandoned corner of a random store, his eyes observing the contents of the store around him.
“Did you have any ideas?” You asked him, his eyes finally snapping to meet yours with a hearty chuckle as his response
"Well certainly not this stuff." He laughed, throwing a look towards the items around the store. You turned your eyes towards the shelves, taking in the stacks of nappies that lined them, allowing yourself to glance around the store your eyes took in colourful toys, baby clothes, tiny items of furniture and the staff at the front of the store that had their eyes fixed upon the two of you, smiling as they whispered between each other.
You had bought Jimin to a baby store, you had bought Park fucking Jimin to a baby store.
"Are you really this lonely Y/N?" He began to tease, a smirk etched into his face as you furrowed your eyebrows at him
"I understand, it's okay…” Your face shone a bright shade of red while Jimin just continued to shine like the angel he was, despite his demonic teasing “I'll be your baby daddy."
His crude joke emphasised by his wink caused you to choke as you wished he would shut up as he laughed at your embarrassment
"I think I'd want someone way more attractive to be the father of my child." You finally muttered back, his teasing taking all your confidence as his own eyebrows rose to question you further but after a moment of silence he finally continued.
"Well, Tae's free." He wiggled his eyebrows slightly "And it is Valentine' Day soon." The suggestion bought your face to complete redness as you delivered a slight slap to his arm and a glare. He finally went silent before turning around and throwing a look to you
"Let's go?" You asked
"Really? I was looking forward to looking at all these nappies" He teased before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you out.
“Lingerie, really?” You spluttered, eyes wide when you finally realised Jimin’s destination as he dragged you towards the store. You didn’t think it could get any worse than being woken up early in the morning, dragged to the mall then being judged for your untamed hair, baggy clothes and exhausted face, topped off by pulling your crush into a baby store, but no, like most of your ideas, you had been entirely wrong – something you only realised as your face grew to be the same crimson colour of the lacy bra in the stores window.
“Come on, what else would you get your girlfriend for Valentine’s Day? Don’t pretend none of your boyfriend’s have ever given you lingerie.” Your eyes left his face as he mentioned the word ‘boyfriend’, instead they became intrigued in the plain wooden flooring of the lingerie store, eyes avoiding both Jimin and the underwear around you. You had had boyfriend’s in the past, well, a boyfriend.
His name was, well, is Jungkook. You had been teenagers when you got together, still living for the adventure and thrill of life which made for a whirlwind romance. The relationship began in the long summer days, days spent curled up beside Jungkook – playing Overwatch, reading comic books or going for road trips. Meanwhile, the nights were spent curled up beneath Jungkook in a typical teenage lust fuelled night. Looking back on it, you had abandoned Jimin, ignoring his messages or avoiding him when you saw him, but when the long summer days ended and the cold winter began to settle in, the warmth between you and Jungkook began to vanish until finally you both decided it was time. It was that day when you finally went to see Jimin, tears running down your face, his eyes looked at you with concern over spilling from the edges of his wide eyes before pulling you into a hug and never mentioning the months you had avoided him, ignoring his messages for days and finally replying to his messages with a blunt response. You had spent the cold night sat nestled beside him on his bed, a level of intimacy you had been having with another boy only a few days before, a boy you had now lost despite the times you told each other “I love you”. You like to tell yourself that was your excuse, your excuse for what happened next, sometimes you even wonder what his was.
He had kissed you. Jimin. Jimin had kissed you. Lip on lip. His hands had tugged you closer to him, trying to conjoin the two of you, your lips already joined in a heart-warming, intimate kiss. That you returned. He had pushed you against his bed, his body hovering over you, eyes flickering between concern, lust and an unrecognisable emotion. His eyes scanned over your face, searing into your skin as he searched for something, his eyes almost pleading to register something from your face. Sensing his conflict, you finally nodded, another mistake you had made that day, another one you liked to excuse with the argument of being a heartbroken teenager, still desperate for a thrill. His lips curled up into a smile though his eyes continued their search with concern flickering in his eyes.
You made another mistake, you pulled him down towards you, tugging on his white t-shirt that clung onto the muscles that were carved into his body. His lips finally reconnected with yours, more lust in the kiss as his hands started to journey across your body, taking their time while you desperately kissed him. His body was pressed against yours, the throb in your stomach worsened by the feel of his muscles against yours and his member prodding against your thigh. Your hands quickly moved down his upper body, memorising his muscles along the way as your hand found itself by his crotch, preparing to please him. Sensing your intentions, his hand curled up around your wrist, ceasing your desires as he slightly pulled himself away. His eyes, that drowned with emotion, taking in the sight of your face as the sound of heavy breathing filled the room.
“Why did you stop?” You finally sighed, eyes mirroring his previous look of concern. The room remained silent as his eyes, that hid so many emotions, continued to memorise each detail of your face. “Did I do something wrong?” His mouth remained shut, his eyes looking conflicted. “Jimin?” You called to him, trying to awake the boy that had awoken a desperate lust in you.
His eyes finally stopped darting across your face, meeting yours as he gave you a hasty shake of his head “You did nothing wrong,” He muttered “It was better than how I always imagined it would be…”
You never got to question him about that, you were about to, your eyebrows curling down as you realised the implications held in his words. You opened your mouth about to ask him but immediately closed it, not in fear of what could happen to your relationship, but because of your realisation of the internal conflict he was clearly having, as his eyes became emotionless.
“Jimin…” You began, hand reaching out to stroke his cheek, attempting to caress his hidden words from his puffy lips that desperately held them in.
After all your mistakes, his finally came. This was his mistake.
“I love you.” The words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them, his eyes flashing in fear as he looked at you again.
That was his mistake, and your next one was pushing him off, darting out of his room, rushing down the stairs, slamming his front door and running all the way back home. But your biggest mistake was falling in love with him.
“Hyuna would also look really hot in lingerie…or anything…or nothing.” Jimin’s words finally snapped you out of your thoughts, as you gave him a light slap to the arm and a look of disgust.
“Ew, next you’ll be telling me about your porn collection.” His mouth opened as he was about to speak, his smirk worrying you so you quickly interrupted him “Don’t even dare Park Jimin.”
His plump lips – that you wish were moving to kiss yours - moved into a pout as he feigned pain but his acting was ruined by the amusement evident in his bright eyes.
“Awh, really Y/N?” His elbow lightly jabbed you as he attempted to tease you, making you forget all the people in the store “You sure? What if I’m in it?”
“Then I don’t want to watch some vomit inducing porn Jimin.” You returned, a smirk curling up on your lips as his pout became more prominent as he mimicked a child. You laughed at him as he returned it, the sound of his laughter singing in your ears making your grin only wider.
“I bet you would watch it if Tae was in it.” He smirked back
“Of course.” You winked at him, enjoying his acting as he once again pretended be offended, hand dramatically falling against his forehead.  
“I hate you Y/N.”
“You love me really.” You teased, preparing for your next teasing comment.
But his next words left you wordless and instead a spluttering mess of a human as his eyes returned to yours, his voice sounding sincere “I do.”
Your mind flashed back to that moment over a year ago in his bedroom, maybe you would finally get your chance to confess, kiss him and never see him with Hyuna again Your mind was buzzing, words stumbling in your mind, Jimin’s face remained expressionless as his eyes read yours.
“Wh-Wha-What?” You finally spluttered out
His face changed into a look of amusement as he finally replied “What did you expect Y/N? You are my best friend.” He lavished in your embarrassment as your eyes darted away from him once again, taking in the sight of people quickly glancing away from the two of you, trying to hide the clear fact that they had been listening in. Your embarrassment worsened and an anger grew in you as you realised people had watched your commotion and probably witnessed how flustered his words made you.
“Jimin, you can’t just say that stuff.” You growled, attempting to glare at him with a menacing look, which he just frowned at.
“Why not Y/N?” He began “You are my best friend.”
“Because…because what if I thought you were being serious?” His eyes flashed with emotion before he looked at you again with a confused look
“What if I thought you actually, properly liked me?” You continued, leaving his mouth falling open “You can’t just say that shit to me Jimin. You can’t just act like I’m one of your male friends, have a girlfriend, a girlfriend you want me to help you buy lingerie for and then tell me you love me. It doesn’t work like that Jimin. What if I actually liked you? I don’t. But if I did maybe you’d be hurting my feelings?” His eyes and mouth were wide as he looked at you with shock, the silence between you became deafening as you began to drown in the look upon his face. You finally shook your head, beginning to turn away from him. Maybe you could finally fix your mistakes.  
“Just forget it Jimin. I’m going to go. Please don’t try to message me Jimin, I really won’t want to talk to you.” You started to walk away, the prying eyes of the people around you darting to look at the floor in front of them that seemingly held all their interest. Jimin’s eyes didn’t dart away and watched your figure as you took another step away, you stopped suddenly, releasing a sigh before turning back to look at him. Jimin hoped for a moment you were going to stay with him, though he realised it was selfish, an utterly selfish desire that he didn’t even have any guilt for having.  
“You should buy Hyuna some purple silky lingerie, she liked it before.” Your finger pointing towards a set of lingerie that had caught your eye and had also caught Hyuna’s a few weeks ago when you had been forced to go shopping with her, Jimin’s eyes didn’t follow your finger and instead widened at your words, shocked by your final words to him after such a dramatic goodbye. And then you walked away. And he didn’t run after you.
Perhaps that was Jimin’s biggest mistake.  
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brokenjardaantech · 3 years
Text
Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 8: Into No Man’s Land)
my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.
summary:
In the past, Fadia and Reyes argued.
In the present, Connor finds a sanctuary from the most unexpected source.
In the past, Connie woke up.
also on ao3
content warning for your typical violence from both games. in short: guns and biotics and people getting wounded.
also, special thanks to @fanndamnedibals for drawing the amazing piece of art for this story. it’s really fucking cool.
---
Before
Fadia was greeted by a punch to her face. Her whole upper body swivelled from the inhuman force, but her lower body planted firmly on the floor still, and with a smooth swing, she stood straight as if the punch never occurred. 
‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ Reyes snarled. ‘Giving plans to Russia and China like that? What happened to me being in charge? What happened to androids being free? What happened -’
Fadia gave the other android a hard shove. ‘What else can I do?’ she yelled. ‘What do you understand about yourself? Do you even know what you’re capable of?’ A shake of her head. ‘Thanks to my father, CyberLife is now producing androids for the military for a price much cheaper than paying non-commissioned officers in the long run, and you think they won’t use it to secure their claim on the Arctic where all of earth’s thirium is? We need someone to keep them in check. China and Russia are the only answer.’
‘And enslaving more of us? More of my people? Pushing the world into war once more?’ the air crackled with static. ‘Have you ever considered anyone else apart from yourself?’
‘Watch your voice box, Reyes,’ Fadia took a step forward, her height letting her loom over the man. ‘You are standing here yelling at me because I care for my brother so cut the bullshit about me not caring. Look what caring did to you -’ indicated her metallic body - ‘to me -’ a wave of her arm - ‘and to the rest of the world. Listen,’ a thin layer of blue appeared between them, ‘just a quick walk around the garden. A farewell. Then I’ll go.’
‘“A farewell”? What is that supposed to mean?’
‘With luck, you won’t see me much for quite a long time. Years. A decade, even. There is something else that I’m… working on.’
‘Leaving a mess your own making behind now?’
‘My father made the mess!’ Fadia lit up. ‘And no, I’m not running away, but there are more important things to deal with right now. It will need my full attention, and I don’t want to leave without giving my brother closure.’ When Reyes’ hand moved towards the gun she knew was hidden underneath his shirt, she sighed. ‘Please. Do you want to see Scott asking where I am every day for the next ten years? Do you want him spending his days worrying about me?’
Reyes was still glaring at her, but at least he was not drawing his weapon. A few seconds of tense silence passed, and with a snap of his arm away from the gun, ‘What do you want to tell him?’ he said as he turned away from his creator, his expression filled with disgust. ‘I can… deliver the message for you.’
Fadia’s lips twitched downwards. ‘Must you?’
‘You wish to protect your brother, don’t you? Don’t you think he’ll be stressed out by your current state?’
‘My current -’
‘Your message,’ Reyes crowded into his creator’s personal space and managed to look imposing despite his height disadvantage, ‘or get the fuck out of here.’
Fadia looked at her first creation down her nose. ‘Tell him that I came to say hello and that it is perfectly normal from that point onwards if he cannot contact me. Tell him it may be years before he sees me again,’ a step back. The door swung open. ‘And it is your fault.’
‘Hold the fuck on -’
A crackle of blue, a flash of dark energy, a faint trail of dissipating tendrils. Sara Fadia Ryder was gone, leaving her creation standing at the door with a hand outreached hopelessly with nothing but thin air in his grasp.
o0o0o
Now
Streets unsafe for androids. Sanctuary at these coordinates. Will deliver supplies to said location as soon as possible. I’m sorry.
The world has become a blur. Hank’s house, receiving the message, decoding the message for Hank, changing into another set of clothes, getting into Hank’s car, and they are off to the docks before they even know what is happening. The androids led by Markus marched. People - androids - were killed. CyberLife is setting up ‘recycling centres’ to recall all androids in the city and around the country with the help of the police and military. They have to act now or they will be trapped by one of the many checkpoints popping up in the streets. Everything, as Hank says, has gone to shit.
Are you going to be fine? Connor texts. I doubt you will be carrying out your orders.
I told my men they have the choice to leave and everything will be on me. If they’re staying, they’re staying on my side. On the android’s side.
And their response?
They’re packing up right now and I’m making sure that nothing will get to them.
How about you?
Meet me there. Hopefully. Vouch for a fleshy human later, can you? I’ll be bringing whatever I can.
Absolutely.
Good.
They arrive at Ferndale after what seems like hours later, Hank stopping a few blocks away from the water in order to not arouse suspicion even though the area is deserted, but Connor’s scans reveal stray patches of evaporated thirium on the floor, which means that injured androids have been here… a few hours ago. 
Hank turns around. ‘Think I should stop here.’ He cocks his head at the area at large. ‘Go on. I won’t leave until you’re out of my sight.’
The image is not comforting enough. ‘Come with us,’ Connor begs. ‘We need you here.’
The human shakes his head. ‘I can’t. Someone has to keep up appearances at the precinct. Besides, Jeff seems to have something to say. I’ll give you an update later when he’s finished yelling at me.’
It makes sense in some ways. Splitting up, gathering information from both ends, and then creating a better plan to save all of them. Simple; at least, it should be. But he also has been with Hank for such a long time - most of his time on earth, really - that it will be strange to be alone with a much slower counterpart of himself in tow. It will be a challenge.
It is also their only chance.
‘I understand,’ he forces out of his voice box, and he opens the door and steps out of the car into the snow before walking around to help Connie get out. What surprises him, however, is that Hank steps out as well and draws Connor into a tight hug.
‘Come back,’ the human says, to me, he doesn’t say, but Connor hears it anyway, and he wraps his arms as much as he can around Hank’s body and squeezes, a silent ‘I will’ that he hopes that his partner understands. ‘I will fight like there is no tomorrow to go back to your side,’ Connor confesses as he catalogues everything there is about Hank, his smell, his proportion, his warmth, because it seems that things are going that way and he wants him to be the last thing he recalls when - when -
‘-nor, look at me.’
Hank’s hand is on his cheek already when Connor looks up. They are so close that Connor can distinguish the shape of each and every single one of the snowflakes in the human’s hair, his brows, his eyelashes, and he can feel every single valley and spur on Hank’s finger that uniquely corresponds to Hank as he brushes his thumb against where Connor’s cheekbone would be had he been human. ‘Most advanced prototype, remember?’ the human says, still holding Connor tight. ‘If there’s someone who can make it out alive, it’s you. I have faith in you.’
‘I -’ you shouldn’t. ‘All I’ve ever done is failing my missions.’
‘To save lives, I know,’ the hand on his cheek moves to the back of his neck. Connor shivers from the warmth. ‘No matter which colour we bleed.’
‘I -’
Thank you. For everything. For making me realise that I’m more than my programming. For being there even though you didn’t understand what was happening.
There is so much he wants to say but can’t due to the sheer amount of information filtering through his processors, but one thing is certain: they all advise him to throw caution to the wind. As if having the exact same thoughts, Hank leans his head forward at the same time, and they meet halfway through in a desperate kiss, a rough press of lips against lips that is all over too soon but conveying enough emotions to each other that they both deflate when they part, the tension in their body suddenly gone now that they are resigned to their fate. 
‘We’ll talk about this,’ Hank warns, but there is no malice in his tone. Come back alive.
Connor has to break their gaze and hook his head on the human’s shoulder or he’ll never get his words out. ‘You stay safe too.’
A large hand on his back, Connor’s thick, season-appropriate attire ridding him of the last human warmth he may get to feel. ‘I will.’
They finally pull apart. A hand that doesn’t belong to Hank brushes Connor’s arm, and that is when he remembers that Connie is here; as if seeing her expectant expression, Hank hugs her as well completely unaware of how close to tears the other android is. Connor moves to hold her hand. ‘Let’s go,’ he tells her, because someone has to be the more responsible one between the two, and they walk away hand in hand together towards the coordinates Louis gave them without a glance backwards.
oOoOo
Jericho. Cargo freighter. Abandoned ship. A sanctuary for deviants old and new, the latter far outnumbering the rest due to Markus’ actions. The bombs on stand by scattered around the place indicate that the freighter is rigged, but no one seems to care; there is a cluster of androids on one side where a holo is recycling the news, another on the other side checking and modding weapons on improvised benches, and another group sitting at a long table working on laptops still in their suitcases. No one seems to have noticed them, which is good considering his previous… reputation as a deviant hunter (even though he didn’t do a very good job at it); he can withstand cold looks and harsh words hauled at him, but Connie is innocent here, and he doesn't want her to suffer any more abuse.
He receives a notification from their intertwined hands that his sister’s internal temperature is falling below recommended levels, so he scans his surroundings, noting the broken grids and - there, a fire contained in a rusted metal barrel surrounded by a sitting area created from stacked-up crates. He spots what seems to be an improvised medical bay where broken androids are being repaired and thought of asking for some thirium for Connie, but from what he can see, the androids under repair are all in much worse shape than his sister, so all he does is giving Connie a quiet reassurance and… waits while he recalls what he just saw. Rupert. The Tracis. Other newly-deviated androids still in their uniform. It’s a miracle that he and Connie don't get spotted.
The drowsiness from the other side of the shallow interface plus the weight on his shoulder indicates that Connie has fallen asleep once more, and with no one to help take care of her, Connor can only sit there and do -
Wait.
His free hand reaches into his pocket and fishes out a coin. It is not the one he is familiar with, but it makes for a good replacement after only a few tries, and soon enough he has it spinning on the tips of his fingers despite the gloves and low temperature and is using it to ignore the dropping thirium level warning from his sister’s HUD. It can be that he is distracted. It can be Connie’s fatigue getting into him. It can be the flickering light from the fire creating shadows that were not there some time ago. It can be that he is in a bubble; to him, nothing else apart from Connie matters.
All he knows when he lets the coin fall onto his palm and looks up is that Markus has been sitting there in front of them for quite a long time. He tenses, knowing that his cover is blown, and he knows that his fate is in the deviant leader’s hands.
‘You deviated,’ the RK200 states. It is not a question.
‘How do you know?’
‘A human contact passed the news to me through an android he rescued and asked us to not view you with suspicion. He goes by the name Lee Aaron, but it is, of course, not his real name. I believe you’ll have the chance to thank him later in person.’
Connor really needs to give Louis a hug. ‘I see.’
Markus indicates Connie with a slight jerk of his head. ‘And this one?’
There is only one answer. ‘My sister.’
The deviant leader raises an eyebrow. ‘Do I even want to know?’
Connor thinks of his creator, the way she kicked them out, the way she doesn't seem to care about their lives, how she seems to be on their side but let them die for the last ten years. ‘Later. It’s a long story.’
Markus studies Connie for a few seconds. ‘It’s still early,’ he says. ‘You can still leave the country by bus before curfew starts. One of our people used to work in the state department, and I can have modified electronic passports delivered to you.’
[Thirium level: 37%] flashes in front of Connor’s HUD. ‘We are under no condition to travel,’ We, more like Connie, but I will not abandon her. ‘The military has set up multiple checkpoints around the city for temperature checks. I doubt it is safe for us to go outside now, but thank you, for offering.’
Jericho’s leader nods in understanding. ‘Is there anything you need? Biocomponents, blue blood, systems checks?’
[Thirium level: 37%]. So why is he hesitating? ‘My sister… her blue blood level is extremely low,’ he admits. ‘It is currently at thirty-seven per cent, far too little for her to function normally.’
Markus looks horrified. ‘rA9, Connor, why didn’t you tell someone when you came?’ he shoots up from his seat as if forgetting that he can remotely send a message to the medics to call for some thirium. ‘I’ll get some for you. Stay here.’
‘You don’t have to -’
‘You’re one of us now,’ a firm hand on Connor’s shoulder prevents him from standing up. ‘We help each other out whenever we can and right now your sister needs it. We’re rationing our supplies, but I think we can spare a bottle. It will last until Lee arrives.’
Connor lets out a breath he doesn’t know he has been holding and puts as much gratitude as he can into his voice as possible when he thanks Markus, but the other RK-series prototype merely waves and places a firm hand on his shoulder, silencing him and, through a shallow interface, telling him to rouse Connie first. He brushes a lock of her hair back into her beanie, and her eyes flutter open in confusion.
We are in Jericho, remember? he reminds her. Markus is getting you some thirium. You will feel better very soon.
Connie sends back a vague affirmative and takes off her beanie with a frown. ‘No hat,’ she mutters as she clumsily shoves the piece of cloth into her pocket. ‘Not anymore.’
Connor can pre-construct all the ways she can lose what little heat she generates. ‘It is to prevent you from losing body heat.’
She shakes her head, her braid falling apart. ‘No hat.’
An overwhelming wave of discomfort washes through him and yes, he would rather sacrifice his body heat to avoid the pain as well, so he lets it be for now and adds [Find a new hat for Connie] into his increasing list of optional tasks that, judging from the constant drone of the news from the floor above, he may or may not be able to finish in the near future. 
Markus returns with half a bottle of thirium and holds it in front of Connie, but all she does is staring at it instead of taking it; from their interface, Connor feels her processor (yes, somehow Ryder stripped all processing units but one from his sister’s body) straining itself to comprehend the other android’s action. ‘It’s for you,’ the deviant leader explains, and it is after an entire minute of processing that Connie slowly reaches out and takes the bottle with both hands. 
‘Thank you,’ she says. Then holds the bottle on her lap without doing anything else.
Connor accepts the link request. Is she alright? Markus asks. She seems… unwell.
Connor partitions part of his focus to the chat and diverts the rest to helping his sister. Sara Ryder modified her after retrieving my - the body, he says as he guides the bottle of thirium to Connie’s lips. Her processing power is incapable of computing large amounts of information. The liquid rolls and slides into Connie’s mouth. I intend to ask our creator about the full extent of the modification once this is over.
You didn’t ask her?
Connor recalls the power he felt radiating from Ryder. We could either leave unharmed or become dust rolling across the floor of her living room. We chose to live.
It is understandable, Markus nods. In reality, Connie seems to understand what the item in her hand is for and finally starts drinking without her brother’s aid. I’ve had… the displeasure of meeting her a few times. My… father - he doesn’t like her much. 
Connor thinks of the entire family, how Alec Ryder tried to flush his knowledge about his powers away, how Sara Ryder modified Connie and left her to suffer. A family trait, he replies, and it makes Markus chuckle. He opens his mouth as if to say something but seems to be distracted by something else. 
‘There are some issues I need to take care of,’ he said in the end. ‘Return the bottle to the med bay if you can.’
He leaves. A drop of thirium escapes Connie’s lips and rolls down her chin, and he wipes it away with the corner of his sleeve while adjusting his reception frequency into that matching the other androids’ channel just to find himself being flooded by information concentrating on ‘a human’, ‘supplies’, and, most disturbingly, ‘illegal weapons’.
He is an ally, Markus’ voice cuts through the chaos, and everything dies down. 
oOoOo
The precinct is still bustling with activity when Louis goes in under Hank’s request and in a bad way: the drizzle of rain before the wind picks up and a storm rolls in. He can tell that people are on edge from either the revolution or even civil war brewing at the horizon or, for those who have decided to stay, worrying about their loved one’s safety. One example is - Detective Gavin Reed, his nameplate reads - who is shouting into his phone with a voice loud enough for everyone to hear if he had been the only one talking. But right now, in the chaos of the office he rarely steps into, Louis can strain his ear and barely make out the details, his heart thumping from the familiar name on the call.
‘Cut that shit, Eli! You can’t tell me what to do!’ Reed yells. ‘You’ve got your duty, I’ve got mine, and right now I’m fucking staying in this motherfucking shithole. You understand me?’ An eye roll, then his eyes snap towards the direction of the entrance where a man who obviously doesn’t work in the force walks in. Everyone assumes that he is one of theirs, though, and he - probably Eli - manages to reach Reed without much resistance.
‘Gav, listen,’ he raises his hands in front of him as Reed pokes the screen of his phone so hard that Louis wouldn’t be surprised had it broken, ‘remember what I’ve told you? About me? Who I work for?’
‘What about -’ Louis can’t see Eli’s expression from this angle, but it must have shut Reed up. ‘Shit.’
‘Quite,’ Eli says drily. Then his voice softens. ‘Please, Gavin, I just want us to get out of this alive. Together.’
He tones out the rest of the conversation and instead focuses on the task at hand. An encrypted diary and a hollow statue. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Hank’s credentials are easy to guess, and he flinches when the evidence locker unfolds to reveal androids strung up like pieces of meat. He focuses on what he wants instead and quickly grabs both items Hank told him that can lead the FBI to Jericho because of course the first thing androids do after gaining sentience is worshipping a god and writing down the address of their secret hideout and -
‘What is a SWAT Captain doing here?’
He turns. Sees Eli standing at the door. Remembers the two empty spaces where the evidence he took should be. A flash of a long-forgotten memory: an interrupted project, a team gone missing, one last goodbye.
I know him.
‘I remember you,’ negotiate first, use force only when necessary. ‘You used to work with my sister. How did you get in here?’
‘Police departments around the world have… questionable security measures compared to the people I am working for,’ Eli - Ilya - Louis doesn’t know anymore - taps his watch. ‘Quite easy to break into, really. Now, what did you take?’
‘All evidence I’ve retrieved are under Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s orders,’ sorry, Hank. ‘You can ask him for confirmation.’
‘No need to be hostile,’ his tone is still condescending, and Louis feels his nerves tingle from both his emotions and the man in front of him. Fuck. Does that mean he’s like him as well? ‘If I were here for you, I would’ve subdued you a long time ago, wouldn’t I?’
Louis is still not convinced. ‘The hell do you want?’
‘I don’t have much time,’ Eli/Ilya takes out a… thing that seems to have materialised from his sleeve. ‘If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, you’ll need this later.’
Louis warily approaches the other man. ‘What does it do?’
‘It syncs with your nervous system. More specifically, the biotic nodes - both natural and artificial - in your entire body which are part of your nervous system. An amplifier, as we call it informally. Gives you a boost in a fight. Gets you out of tight places.’
‘How do I know you’re genuine?’
‘Me and your sister drifted apart a few years ago,’ hold on, a few years ago? Does it mean - ‘It doesn’t mean I want to hurt innocent people - android or human. I’d hardly want her to throw a fit after knowing that you died being shot at by the US military.’
But Louis isn’t quite listening anymore. ‘Hold on,’ he says even as he shoves the device into his pocket. ‘Anna is alive?’
‘We have little time left,’ the other man doesn’t seem to have heard his question. ‘It’s a matter of time for the FBI to find where the deviants are hiding. If you want to get to them, better do it quickly. Preferably armed.’
Louis gives Eli/Ilya one last sweep, memorising his features, his measurement, his clothing, everything that he can notice right now so that - ‘We’ll talk later.’
‘Get out alive first.’
He doesn’t allow himself to think as he methodically packs up, drives back home, refills the food and water dispensers for the cats in case he’ll be away for a long time, drives to the safehouse - deserted because not long ago the military just marched through and searched door to door for androids - to retrieve all the supplies he can carry - thirium, printers, guns, and finally brings himself to Jericho where he hopefully won’t get gunned down on his first step into the cargo freighter for being human. He taps into his powers - just in case - and hooks the amplifier over his ear.
He doesn’t know if it’s the energy or the power or just that there are so many androids in Jericho, but he manages to reach the heart of the freighter relatively undetected. Connor and his sister are probably among the clusters of androids downstairs, but first, he needs to have a word with the leader of the deviants.
‘Human.’
He gets surrounded by what must be a dozen androids in less than a second, the LEDs on their temples - for those who keep theirs, that is - spinning yellow while they communicate silently through their channels. He follows their line of sight and there it is, his borderline-illegal, modded-to-hell rifle that he gets away from carrying openly only because he is a SWAT Captain, and he starts regretting his decision to bring it out in the open to deter the military.
The androids in front of him part like Moses splitting the Red Sea in half, Markus emerging with quickened steps and standing in front of him in an instant. Piercing eyes - one blue, one green - scans him from head to toe despite Louis being pretty sure that it’s just for show, and when their eyes meet, he decides to slide the duffel bag containing the printers and thirium down his shoulder and holds it towards the deviant leader with straining arms. ‘I brought supplies,’ he explains, feeling dumb. ‘Scan my bags if you don’t believe me.’ 
Markus’ eyes don’t move but Louis feels him scanning the contents of his luggage anyway. He doesn’t move at all, but then two androids emerge from the crowd to take the bags downstairs. ‘You are expected,’ he says. Then, gesturing the rifle on his back and the other weapons Louis hid underneath his clothes, ‘Not very discreet, aren’t you?’
The other androids file away, their anxious chatter having nothing to do with what he knows will come. ‘It gets the message through without words,’ Louis replies as he fidgets with the strap of his rifle in front of his chest. ‘I’m on a time limit here.’
‘For what?’
‘The FBI is coming. You have about one hour and a half to evacuate.’
And then everything becomes a blur.
oOoOo
FBI. Evacuating Jericho. Blowing up Jericho. Staying in Jericho to defend the last evacuees. People leave in groups of no less than three, taking crates, supplies, and, sometimes, injured companions away from the failing cargo freighter. Some, like Lucy, volunteered to stay despite being recommended to leave first, and some left with the friends they had made during these few eventful days. Holding Connie tight against his side with her hand in his grip and the shallow interface between them the only thing keeping her functional, Connor is torn between sending her away to safety without him, going with her to their next sanctuary, or forcing her to stay with him and face the dangers of potential firefights and massacres. He can tell from her panicked shiver and the way she tugs herself underneath his arm that she does not want to go at all and neither does he, but he doesn’t know if he can live with it if she died because of him.
Someone kneels in front of him, and when his eyes focus, Louis’ face comes into view. ‘Josh is leading the last outbound group. The rest of us are staying in case the FBI came before all of us can go.’
‘So Connie can come with us?’
Louis checks his watch. ‘If you want her to be safe, no,’ he rearranges his limbs so that he is sitting cross-legged on the floor. ‘We’re expecting confrontation very soon, maybe in a few minutes. We need to move now or else we might risk getting her in the crossfire, glowy blue superpowers or no.’
He doesn’t move from where he’s sitting on the floor. Connor watches his sister pout and her eyes water, but to his surprise, she nearly slaps his arm around her shoulders away and stands up on her own. Louis stands up as well, adjusting the rifle on his back by its strap, and leads her away presumably to Markus’ lieutenant. It leaves a large gap in Connor’s mind. 
oOoOo
Louis feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up before the rumble even starts.
‘Hurry,’ he transfers Connor’s sister from his arm to Josh’s. ‘They’re coming.’
‘What?’ the android has the nerve to look confused. ‘But don’t we -’
‘Just go!’ he can feel the full weight of all the shit he’s stowed on his body as he takes a step back, all the spare ammo and the four pistols and the submachine gun he somehow manages to keep underneath his winter clothes. Here’s to hoping that his powers are enough to keep him afloat. ‘We’ll catch up with you.’
He runs, feeling the shift of the small packages of thirium he left for himself in case he is trapped and needs to fight his way through, and it’s about thirty seconds later that he nearly slams into Connor who just turned the corner. ‘They’re coming from all sides,’ he says as he reloads his pistol. ‘Markus is detonating the charge in the hold. We need to find an exit and jump in the river.’
‘And the others?’ Louis knows they shouldn’t be standing there but he needs to know. The implication of jumping into freezing water in winter… surprisingly doesn’t scare him as much as it should. ‘Are they jumping too?’
‘North is leading them. I’m just here to find you.’
He doesn’t exactly have a choice now, does he? ‘Lead the way.’
He pulls his scarf over his nose and runs.
oOoOo
‘Hostiles sighted. Preparing to engage.’
Louis is pulled behind one of those watertight doors before he even registers the movement, and the next thing he knows Connor is dashing out of cover and immediately gets shot. Letting his instincts take over his body, a shield of blue tendrils shoots out of his hand and fixes itself in front of the android before he rushes out while slinging his rifle onto his shoulder and drags him as far as he can away from the soldiers by walking backwards, and as he feels the fabric in his grip twist and bend, he wonders if the soldiers pick up his face with the built-in tech in their helmets. Their facelessness does give Louis an advantage, however, because he feels no qualms about creating a blue sphere of energy in his free hand and lobbing it towards the shield, causing it to explode in a boom of bright blue mist. He also forces himself to not think too much about the horrible screech of rusted metal before the corridor collapses behind him as he drags Connor into another empty room to examine the wound.
‘You alright?’ he asks. The wound on the android’s shoulder doesn’t seem to be bleeding, but he knows it is an illusion created by the many layers Connor is wearing right now; of all he knows, the android can be soaking his innermost shirt. ‘How long until your self-repair kicks in?’
‘A few seconds,’ Connor’s jaw is tight when he uses Louis’ shoulder as leverage to stand up. ‘It will not heal properly until I have sufficient thirium in my systems. We have to go.’
‘Will the water get in?’
‘Not if I give my chassis priority.’ Connor freezes for a blink of an eye, the only indicator that he is scanning his surroundings now that his LED is hidden beneath his beanie. ‘We are safe for now.’
Louis steps outside first this time, his protective barrier tinting his world blue. The corridor smells of static and the unique smell of a mix of his powers and rusted metal, and they don’t run this time, Louis needing to concentrate on always keeping his powers on hand so that he can react as quickly as possible in case they got ambushed again and Connor distracted by both constantly scanning their surroundings and mending the gaping hole on his shoulder. They run into a few stray pairs of soldiers on their way, but nothing cannot be taken care of by sneaking away or catching them unaware with a stasis field. 
He is almost frightened by how easily he accepts his powers as his main source of offence and defence and uses it on people with no regrets.
‘Connor! Lou! You’re alive!’
They round a corner and are greeted by Simon and North. Both of them appear unharmed and North doesn’t look too happy that Louis is there, but one look from Simon is enough to urge all of them to run towards the exit on their deck, hurdling over collapsed walls and doors and leaping over gaps on the floor as quickly and smoothly as they can to get out of the place as soon as possible - and to outrun the footsteps behind them.
North takes the risk to look backwards. ‘Markus!’
Before Louis can turn to greet him, he hears gunshots and a surprised groan from Markus as he turns and discovers the leader of the deviants on the floor with two bleeding wounds on his back. The lights hum and go out, and they are left with the dim, far-away lamps mounted on the soldiers’ rifles as their only source of light. The rumble of helicopters outside seems so close now.
‘Markus!’ comes the panicked cry from Simon, and Louis raises his arm just in time to push him back to let Connor do his job. ‘Stay back,’ Louis says. ‘Let us handle this.’
He lobs a sphere of blue towards the soldier shooting at the two androids as the prototype slings Markus’ arm around his shoulders and starts limping towards the exit, knocking them into the wall with a thrum that resonates in the entire corridor. From the light of their rifles, two more soldiers join their still-standing comrades, and he knows he needs to up his game to be able to fight them all at once; instead of suspending them in stasis fields or using the old-school spheres, he swings his arm upward with his palm to launch an unending chain of explosive tendrils that tears through the soldiers, lifting them off their feet and illuminating the rest of the corridor with blinding blue light. Their position exposed, Louis cuts off the shockwave chain and lets it fizzle and dissipate behind him and runs with the others towards the exit as he shrouds himself in blue to protect himself from the freezing water.
More gunshots and shells hitting the ground. A ‘Run! Quick! Come on!’ from Markus. Louis leaps.
Everything beyond his barrier goes dark.
o0o0o
Before
The remodelling was going well. The new programmes had all taken root in 51’s system, the body modifications were adapting to the original biocomponents and responding to the new system, and her vitals were steady if less satisfactory than what Ryder expected. Whatever. Her task was complete. This stage of her experiment was a success.
Deactivating the skin on her hand, she placed it on the other android’s shoulder and woke her up, 51’s skin rippling and flickering as the sudden increase in power usage. It stayed that way as she blinked her eyes open, and her mouth opened and closed as if she had something to say but couldn’t.
‘RK800, register name: Connie.’
51 - Connie - shivered.
Perfect.
---
the art!
link: https://www.deviantart.com/coakesam/art/DBHAUBB-2021-877769882
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halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
All in the Family
Chapter 38: Aunt Marge's Big Mistake
Remus had never really considered the smell of dog repugnant before, but the puddle he landed in and the odor that met his nose was really trying to change that. "Are you shitting me!" He howled in disgust as he pulled himself free.
Sirius whistled from atop a rickety pile of empty dog crates. "You must have really pissed off someone in another life."
"I hope you fall on your head from there," he snapped as he waved his wand to remove the mess, though that still didn't remove the lingering scent from his own nose.
The two took eyes off each other and instead spent a moment to glance around and realize they were the only two out here. Sirius, in his usual feats of ease and grace, landed on his feet beside Remus and the two cautiously circled the area to find themselves in some sort of barn, which mostly seemed to be used for storage. Stacks of dog-food, of a high premium quality, were in carefully managed containers as well as an assortment of collars, and even a few medical supplies.
"I'm feeling a little creeped out now," Sirius muttered, rubbing his neck and eyeing the cages he'd been upon.
Neither got the chance to make much more sense of it when the barn doors swung open wide, and Frank's surprised face peered in. "Oi, I found um!"
"Where are we?" Remus asked as they joined him at the door to find an even wider expanse beyond, quite the gorgeous acreage for some sight beyond, and a bulldog sitting at Frank's feet wagging it's tail curiously up at the pair.
"You're guess is as good as ours," James assured as he came up beside Frank. "Everyone else is inside that house," he gestured beyond the two where they couldn't yet see from the inside, "but I'm suspecting we're dealing with an animal lover. There's bulldogs all over the place round here."
The one watching at their feet was on the younger side, completely white, and rather healthy in weight Sirius decided as he knelt down and scooped up the pup.
"Let's go see if they've found the book yet, spread some light on this nonsense," Frank sighed.
Circling around the side of the barn found a very nice bungalow, clearly very well kept up with bright shutters opened wide. Even from their view as they approached what must be the backdoor they could already see inside the kitchen, where bright yellow wallpaper was abound and even more pictures of bulldogs hung from surfaces. Inside saw Peter at the table, face in hands and looking exhausted, with two more bulldogs sniffing curiously around his feet and Regulus at the table beside him. The two stopped talking when they entered, but to the others surprise there hadn't been much noise of hostility in either tones.
"Come on Wormy," Sirius said at once with chipper, going forward and clasping him on the shoulder while forcefully putting the puppy near his face. "Won't get back to our world tell we find the book, sitting around worrying ain't going to fix that."
"Alice already found the book," Regulus shrugged without concern.
"Well then let's get to it," Frank agreed going past them into the living room. Alice was sitting on the floor next to a snoring pooch as tan as the carpet rather than the plastic bound furniture, while four more dogs of the same breed were all lazing about comfortably, one nursing a litter of three. Lily was crouched down beside the proud mama, stroking a little fawn one.
"Don't be getting ideas now," he cautioned as he offered to take the book from Alice before sitting down by a brindle colored one with a rather rotund stomach and very round teets, likely promising another litter soon. "We don't have time to be hunting down formulas for puppies."
"I know," she sighed as she relaxed against the wall and glanced out the front window where a picturesque well stood on a hill. "It's just nice to land somewhere so pleasant for once. This isn't any of our houses, seems to just be some nice person who breeds dogs. I don't know what Harry has to do with this place, but it seems to be something good for once."
"Chapter title doesn't indicate as much," Frank said in surprise as he cracked the book open. The opening was as horrendous as usual, none of them ever actually enjoyed hearing of the Dursleys many ways they managed to make Harry feel as unwelcome as possible in that house.
Things picked up with interest though, when the Muggle news casually said a certain name.
The other five walked slowly into the room, eyeing Frank like they thought he was playing his first prank. Even Pettigrew was looking more lively again, still clutching the little white pup to his chest a little too tight as he went from looking at the book to not only his best friend, but the brother that shared the Black name.
"Did we miss something?" Potter demanded, wand clutched in one hand and the other balled into a fist. Frank found that a tad dramatic. It was the Muggle news after all, and while it had caught him off guard, there was certainly no reason for his him to be getting defensive over it.
"No, not really," he said calmly, already turning back to the book. "I'd think you heard as well as I, someone named Black broke out of a Muggle prison." The group remained cluttered in the doorway while Frank finished, though there really wasn't much more to be said from the news.
Lupin made an awkward sort of noise that may have possibly been an attempt at a laugh. He put a casual arm around his friend and eyed the brother with that same pained sort of look that was desperately striving for carefree. "Well, what do you suppose you two get up to in the future?"
"Stop exaggerating Moony," the elder of the two brothers pushed his friend away with a much more natural look of uncare. "Just something being stirred up in the Muggle world, how could anyone break out of Azkaban for it to be related to us?"
"Yeah," Regulus quickly muttered agreement, but his brows were still ruffled with confusion and uncertainty. Frank couldn't blame him. Of the two, he'd put money down the youngest would certainly break the news first in You-Know-Who's service rather than the toerag and self proclaimed savior to James Potter.
Harry very obviously had no reason to dwell on this, so it made sense he was distracted by the next interruption of someone named Marge coming about. His reaction to the news was distracting enough to get to them as well.
"What's that horrid woman done then?" Lily snapped in frustration. Already more than sick of the way these horrid people treated her son, she had half a mind to slap Petunia across the face when she saw her again, even if she still doubted herself to go through with it. This perverse future version of a life without her in it already featured a bitter best friend who treated her son so horrid and she was still bound and determined to find a way to an answer for that, her sister was a slightly lesser concern but one she'd have to deal with eventually.
At least this particular problem wasn't on her plate, this Marge was Vernon's sister, and the location they happened to be at suddenly made more sense. Then her hand froze on the little pups warm fur as the their surroundings went from cheerful to claustrophobic in seconds as the laundry list of misdeeds she'd done to Harry were listed. The bright wallpaper was sickening, the little box of dog treats placed sporadically had her clenching her jaw in disgust, and the walking stick left propped against the back door was something everyone was eyeing to be broken in half.
This was no innocent woman breeding dogs for a living, this was a horrible woman, just like every other person in Harry's life who treated that kid like scum, for what?! Lily felt fooled as she sat there shaking with rage, taken in by the beautiful countryside and calm animals around her not to realize there was always something repugnant under the surface.
Of course things only got worse when the woman arrived, Lily couldn't help but get defensive. Of Potter of all things! And not just Harry! This Marge woman shamelessly took to taking criticizing to an inhuman level in regards to Harry and even going so far as to putting this blame on his parentage. As many times as she'd wanted to curse Potter's face off, at least she knew why he deserved it! This woman didn't know anything about them, and what she was saying to a child was reprehensible!
Between this, Petunia not having the decency to say a single word in defense like some part of her still hoped for, and the revelation the woman actually had puppies drowned, Harry magically blowing her up was a blessing.
Lily didn't burst out with cheers like the Marauders, or even resort to the other three muttering things they'd like to do to this woman instead of something so mild, Lily just let herself relax. She released a stream of breath, her shoulders slumped, and she scooped the little ball of folded skin that was the wrinkly puppy just finished nursing and tucked the babe into her neck. It was by far the most mild victory Harry had ever dished out on his own, but really, it was somehow the most satisfying.
Defeating Voldemort, twice, was still such a fantastical thing for something of their future, let alone a kid of hers to be doing it, she still just hadn't quite grasped that concept. This however was something she and her son could readily agree on, no one would be saying such atrocious things and getting away with it.
The news that Harry was leaving that house was a welcomed one, she couldn't stop herself from laughing in relief. Of all the times she'd escaped a very similar house and words from her sister, the idea of escape was one she knew intimately. As Frank warned the closing sentence was upon them, she regretfully set the little pup back down next to its mother and watched Pettigrew finally do the same.
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cinnamoonsworld · 4 years
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A Harsh Meal [Fatgum x chubby fem!reader]
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Hi everyone! Before continuing the Aizawa's ff, I wanted to give myself a short story about another pro hero I love so much, Fatgum. What is written comes from my personal experiences and from people I know very well, and I hope everyone in life will find a person like Fatgum in their life <3
Happy reading, see you next week for the new chapters of "Two Worlds Collide"!
You can also find me on Ao3!
Words: 2,666
Trigger Warnings: eating disorders, eventual smut
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You and Taishiro have been together for several years. You met during an attack by a villain who had begun to destroy everything that happened to him without any reason, and you were among the civilians that Fatgum had saved. Unlike all the other people, Fatgum was impressed with your smile when you thanked him for protecting you and all the other people.
For days he had dreamed of your smile and your (Y/E/C) eyes, until he saw you one night while he was on patrol and you were lowering the shutter of a store. He took note of the place and its location, and the next morning he showed up inside your little bakery. He was almost breathless to see you in your work uniform, which included a pastel apron and a dress with a wide 50s skirt.
From that day on, Taishiro began to come into the shop every day and you began to become, as time went on, more and more intimate. Sometimes he would come there with two shoulders of his own, Tamaki and Kirishima, and he would never fail to list the whole menu by heart and say how good everything was. You started to make sweets just for him, inspired by his character.
One day he did not come to see you. Initially you did not worry, thinking that he would pass later in the day. When you closed, you went to his agency to ask if anything happened to Fatgum. His secretary informed you that he had been hospitalized following a raid that he and other heroes had carried out that morning.
You got the name of the hospital, and you went straight to the bakery to make her favorite cupcakes, the Oreo's one. You were upset that Taishiro was in a hospital bed alone, without you beside him to lift his spirits.
You rushed to the hospital with a box full of cupcakes. You went to a nurse and showed her the tide of candy you were carrying, and she took you to her room. They were all desperate, because it was from the moment he arrived that all he did was asking for food and that he never stopped being hungry.
"At least, if he asks to eat, it means he’s fine!" You thought feeling a little more relieved.
The nurse let you in the room, and on the bed there was a thin, tall, blond boy who was watching TV and laughing.
You looked at him in a daze, thinking the nurse had taken you to the wrong room.
As Taishiro saw you, his face lit up and he jumped out of bed to hug you. Your doubts passed when you saw him smile: even if he was thinner, that was Fatgum. He almost cried when you showed him the box of cupcakes at the Oreo, and made you promise that at least a couple of them would be saved for Suneater and Red Riot, who were also there.
You went to see him every day with something different to eat, and the nurses were extremely grateful because he was literally draining their kitchen supplies. The longer the days went by, the more he was returning to his giant teddy bear form with which you had known him.
On the last day of recovery, you noticed he was extremely agitated. You were afraid he wasn’t feeling well, and you were going to call the nurse when he came between you and the door and kissed you. It was a long, sweet and exciting kiss. Detaching himself, he looked into your eyes with an expression of pure panic. He was afraid you’d laugh at him or, worse still, that he’d disgust you with his gesture. Instead, surprisingly, you embroider that kiss without hesitation.
From that moment on, you and Taishiro started dating first and then, noticing that it worked and you were both taken by each other, you decided to officially get together. At least three years passed before they decided to move in together. You were both very happy, you were looking forward to cooking for your boyfriend and he was looking forward to coming home to eat what you had prepared for him and to spend time with you. You filled him with food and attention, while he did everything to see you always happy.
Everything was going great until you started having problems with your body. By now you knew that Taishiro, when he used too much strength, dried up and became a sweet and very high muscular boy. He hated being like that, couldn’t work and felt very vulnerable. Needless to say, in that form, it attracted the attention of many girls who were flirting with him shamelessly. It also happened while you were together somewhere, and many times you had heard these girls tell Taishiro to let you lose, because an Adonis like him did not make a good impression to be seen around with "someone like you".
You had never been thin, and you knew it very well. For you your body had never been a problem, and you always liked it the way you are. Taishiro, then, saw you as the representation of a Goddess descended to earth, he found you perfect in everything and everything. He always pointed it out to you, even when you were making love. You were perfect in everything and for everything to him, and he never failed to let you know even with small gestures. Whatever you was wearing, from a tracksuit to a fancy dress, you made him lose his mind.
You began to spend more and more time in front of the mirror, touching your belly or your thighs and finding more and more imperfections. It started out as a few minutes a day until it became an hour or more, and on the worst days you stared in the mirror until you cried because you felt ugly and shapeless. Fat, cellulite or stretch marks: you hated yourself, and you couldn’t find something of yourself that would change your mind.
Even Taishiro had noticed that something was wrong, and he began to notice it when, gradually, you started to eat less and less.
One of the things that made Taishiro one of the happiest men on earth was to share food with you, and he was alarmed to see that you were offering him your leftovers from dinner even though you had eaten only three mouthfuls of what was on the plate.
You started to wear clothes that were getting wider and wider so you could hide your shapes. You were convinced that when you left the house, everyone looked at you and commented on your body. You could feel people’s judgmental looks on you, even though they weren’t even looking at you. When you and Taishiro were out, you were always trying to get as little food as possible. You didn’t want people to judge you for what was on your plate.
Since you started eating less and less, you were always getting tired and in a bad mood. You stopped talking to Taishiro about what was going on at work or what was going on in your head, and sometimes you felt so weak that you didn’t even have the strength to cook. For Taishiro there was no problem, he was more than happy to take away to spend more time with you, but you barely ate something and went to sleep with the excuse that at work had been a hard day and that you wanted to rest.
Finally, you began to think of the worst thing: that Taishiro was only with you because you prepared food for him and that in reality he only felt disgust for you. This little thought slowly began to creep into your head until it became a recurring judgment. You started to really meditate that you were only convenient for food, and you were sure he would run off with a girl much prettier and thinner than you as soon as he had the chance.
Even at work these thoughts did not leave you, and the situation worsened when, a few buildings from your bakery, opened a gym. Every day, in front of the windows, it was a parade of women, young and not, in brilliant physical form and with nothing out of place. They were so happy, so skinny...everything you weren’t, and they’d rub it in your face every single day.
You also stopped eating, and drank only water. Taishiro was increasingly alarmed, you were turning into something that wasn’t you. You started fighting more and more about the food issue, he wanted you to eat but you told him that you were fine and that you had already eaten something at work and so there was no need to stress about these things. He just wanted to help you whatever was going on with you, but you had built a wall between you two.
You didn’t want him to touch you anymore, you thought he was ashamed to go around with you, with a "shapeless being". He deserved a better person, a girl much prettier than you, and that made him look better when they called him to the charity nights.
You were so short of energy, you had trouble getting out of bed. One day, in particular, it seemed to you that even breathing was an inhuman effort. You went to the store early like every morning to start baking. As usual, your mood was under your shoes, and the fight you had the night before with Taishiro certainly didn’t help. The walk you took from your apartment seemed like a mountain hike, even though it was only two blocks away.
You had time to turn on the lab lights that you collapsed suddenly.
Around lunchtime, Taishiro became seriously concerned. Even if you fought a lot, when he wrote to you, you always answered, even if in a cold tone. You didn’t even see the messages that morning, and you didn’t post anything on any social media.
Driven by anxiety, in the early afternoon he went to your shop where he found the half-shutters lowered. When he tried to call you, he clearly heard your phone ring go off, but no one answered. He was getting more and more agitated.
Luckily, when you moved in together, you gave Fatgum a copy of the keys to your club and the lab door in case of need. The lab door was looking at a dead end, and he came in through it.
He had a heart attack when he found you lying on the ground and very pale. He immediately called an ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Taishiro was in the waiting room waiting for some news of yours. He was so agitated that he had not touched food and the feeling of hunger, for the first time in his life, had disappeared.
After several hours, finally, they called him inside to talk to the doctor who was taking care of you, and the diagnosis shocked the hero: malnutrition. You were passed out because you hadn’t eaten anything for who knows how long, and in your stomach they had found no trace of food, only water. You pushed your body so far, you couldn’t take it anymore.
The doctor took Taishiro to your room, and his heart stopped again to see you attached to all those tubes so that you could ingest some nutrient so that your body would not collapse again. He sat down next to you, fondling your hand lovingly. He didn’t understand how all this could have happened, and he was afraid of losing you forever.
He fell asleep next to you, and woke up in the middle of the night when he felt a familiar sensation of a kiss on his forehead. He immediately opened his eyes and almost wept with joy at seeing you awake.
"Cupcake..." He whispered with clear eyes. "You don’t know how happy I am to see you awake..."
"Tai..." you answered with a nervous stomach. "I’m sorry...I didn’t want it to end this way..."
"What happened to you, my love?" asked the blond.
You could barely hold back your tears after that question.
"I hate myself." You finally answered without being able to hold back the crying. "I hate myself Taishiro. I’m horrible, I’m fat. Anything about me disgusts me, and I don’t know how you can be with a freak like me. Those girls are right, Tai. You deserve someone better than me, not someone who makes you look bad."
While you were sobbing, Fatgum was really sad and angry at what you thought of yourself. Of all the things he thought about your behavior change, he never imagined it would be something that would make you suffer so much that you would go so far as to refuse food. He didn’t think even remotely that some girls' comments could hurt you so deeply, and he felt terrible that he had always downplayed it and had always just not listened to them. But not you, you listened to them all too well.
"My sweet cupcake." Tai said, wiping tears from your eyes. "Do you remember the first time I kissed you? I felt terribly stupid. I was afraid you’d turn me down because of my looks. I know perfectly well that I am not perfect, and that when I am in my low-form I am very ashamed...and yet you accepted me as I am. You never let me weigh my physical form, both thin and fat..."
"You’re such a wonderful person that I never cared about your body, my teddy bear." You spoke with a slight smile trying to stop crying.
"And the same goes for you, too, (Y/N)." Fatgum said with a kiss on your forehead. "I love you for who you are and for what you give me every day, your little gestures and how you make me feel happy every day. And I don’t care if you’re skinny or fat, I would love you in all forms of this world."
You felt very relieved to hear those words, and at that moment you realized how much unnecessary harm you had done just because your head was telling you. You embraced each other in silence, a silence full of love and meaning.
In the days of your hospitalization, Taishiro came to see you every day and had literally camped in the hospital. When he had a free moment he would come to spend with you and every night, after having left work, he would rush into your hospital room because it was the part of the day that made him exalt like a child in front of a toy store: Having dinner with you while you told each other what happened to you during the day. You started eating again and God, how you missed the taste of food and talk to Tai. You almost forgot about this feeling of happiness, and you almost cried with joy when you ate together. He wouldn’t even go home to sleep, he’d sit next to you in a chair and watch TV together until you fell asleep on each other’s shoulder.
The day you were discharged, when you returned home, all the colleagues from Fatgum’s agency were waiting for you. They too were very concerned about you, and seeing you smiling and strong again made them very happy. They filled you with flowers and gifts, and when the party was over, when everybody left, you and Tai made love, and you didn’t care if the neighborhood heard you or not. You finally came back, and you had to celebrate. He kissed you from head to toe, to show how much love and veneration he felt for every inch of your being, whispering sweet words to you until, exhausted, you fell asleep hugging each other.
It was nice to be back.
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daisylincs · 4 years
Note
staticquake, 16 and 66? i look forward to anything you make!!
16 = Prison AU, 66 = It's Not You, It's My Enemies 
Hello, new friend, and thank you so much for the prompt!! I'm awfully flattered that you've liked my works so far - sending this one out to you with big virtual hugs 🤗
Daisy isn't sure how she ended up here, either. As shitty futures go, this one is pretty much a record. 
She was supposed to be, well, basically a princess. Her mother is the leader of the Inhuman people, and her father is one of the world's most brilliant scientists. 
When her mother revealed her plans to broaden her leadership to the rest of the world, Daisy didn't think it was such a bad idea. I mean, look at it logically. Jiaying was a good leader, and the world was a mess. Two plus two. It made sense. 
It also made sense, a little, that the rest of the world wouldn't really like this at first. They hadn't lived all their lives in Lai Shi, after all. They didn't know Jiaying was a really good leader who just wanted the best for them. 
Daisy was happy to use her powers to help her mother secure her leadership. It was the right thing to do, after all. She was helping the entire world. 
But then. 
But then, as more and more people resisted against their new government, Jiaying asked Daisy to make an example. 
"Make an example" meaning kill the people who were fighting back.
 Daisy would do a lot of things for her mother, but killing innocent people is not one of them. 
In retrospect, she's kicking herself over how stupid and naive she was. Jiaying never wanted the best for anyone - she just wanted to rule. How didn't she see it? 
It's too late for regrets now. She's here, in her mother's special prison for war criminals, quake-absorbing cuffs strapped to her wrists, and all she can do about it is kick herself. 
She was so stupid. 
And now she's stuck in prison. Yay. 
There are some good things about being here, though. Case in point: the friends she meets. 
Because it turns out, all those people Jiaying had locked up because they were "threats to the world we're trying to build?" Yeah. They're all actually really, really great people. 
Take Fitz and Jemma, for example. He's engineering, she's biochem, and they're pretty much the cutest thing Daisy has ever seen. Seriously - the way they talk over and around each other is pretty much what makes this prison bearable.
 Then there's Hunter and Bobbi, who are basically the polar opposite of Fitz and Jemma. They bicker constantly, about everything, and while they're also annoyingly in-sync, it's in knowing exactly how to push each other's buttons. 
Last but definitely not least, Coulson and May, who Daisy is 99% sure are married. Or partners. Or something. Because you do not get to act that much like parents and not be involved in some way. 
They're a ragtag, motley group, but Daisy surprises herself by how much they begin to feel like home.
Prison, she decides, is shit. 
But it's the kind of shit that bonds people. 
So she wouldn't say her life is good. Dear God no. She's still not even sure how exactly she ended up here. 
But it's not bad. 
So when there's a disturbance in the normal prison routine one day, Daisy can't help but be intrigued. 
This isn't just the usual offloading of prisoners. It's... almost like the day she arrived here. 
She and the rest of the gang gather in the courtyard to see just what, exactly, caused this big of a fuss. 
And when Daisy sees the guy, she can't help but snort. "Seriously?" 
This guy is about as far from threatening as you could possibly imagine - all blond hair and blue eyes and this overwhelming air of niceness that makes Daisy want to puke rainbows. He's the dictionary definition of the boy-next-door love interest in one of those cheesy rom-coms her father used to love. 
All Daisy can think is, dude, what the hell are you doing here? 
She asks him exactly that. (She's never been shy.) 
He looks up and smiles at her, all innocent and cheerful, and oh dear God but he's nice. It's just pouring off him in waves. "I got arrested," he tells her. 
She rolls her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Why?" 
"Well, because I didn't agree with what Jiaying was doing," he says, adding as an afterthought, "and I'm dangerous." 
Daisy can't help but snort at that. "Sure you are, Pikachu, sure you are." 
(She blames Hunter for the sass rubbing off on her.) 
"I am," he tells her quite seriously, lifting up his wrists to show her a set of cuffs very similar to her own - only these seem to be made of some kind of insulating material. 
Daisy blinks. "You're an Inhuman?" 
He nods, pulling at the cuffs. Daisy knows from experience that they won't budge an inch, but she feels for him. 
He looks up at her, a hint of frustration in his eyes. "If I had my powers, we'd all be out of here in a second," he says. 
She knows the feeling. "Same," she says, showing him her own cuffs. 
His eyes widen. "Whoa, you're an Inhuman too!" Then, because apparently he speaks well before he thinks, he adds, "I was starting to think I was the only Inhuman who had a problem with murder." 
His cheeks flush pink right away. "Oh, er, um," he stammers. "I'm sure you're a lovely person, really -" 
She rolls her eyes, but there's a grin tugging at her lips. "Okay, Sparky," she says, going for an educated guess as to his powers. (Hey, she is the leader's daughter.) "What's your name?" 
"Right, sorry," he says, blushing redder, if that's possible. "I'm Lincoln." 
"Daisy," she says. "And I would shake your hand, but…" 
"Cuffs," they say at the same time. 
And Daisy would probably have stayed there smiling at him for an embarrassingly long amount of time if Jemma didn't clear her throat. 
"Daisy," she says in an oh-my-God-Daisy-met-a-boy kind of voice. "Who's your friend?" 
"Right," Daisy says, and great, now she's blushing. That won't make Jemma suspicious at all. "Guys, this is Lincoln. He's an Inhuman, too." 
"Is he, now," Hunter says, and Daisy doesn't like his emphasis at all. Far too much like an asshole older brother, that one. 
"We are delighted to meet you," Bobbi chimes in, and all Daisy can think is really, you too? Because, apparently, nobody's immune. 
Poor Lincoln looks as awkward as hell. "Um, thanks," he says, shifting from foot to foot. 
Before anyone can say much else, though, May warns sharply, "Incoming." 
And, oh, shit, Daisy can already see the guards approaching. 
Lincoln looks more confused than ever, and Daisy grabs his arm, yanking him off to one of the quieter corners of the prison yard. "If the guards catch you in a group, you're toast," she explains quickly. "No more than two people are allowed to talk for extended periods of time. They're afraid we'll make up an escape plan or something." She squints across the yard to watch the guards warily. "They're especially paranoid when it comes to me." 
He tilts his head. "Why, what do you -" 
"I'm Quake," Daisy admits, dropping his arm and determinedly studying her feet. 
He blinks. "Whoa. Quake, as in Jiaying's daughter? That Quake?" 
“That's me," she agrees, hearing the sting of bitterness in her voice. She's not proud of the things she did for her mother, not even a little. 
"Whoa," Lincoln says again. And then he takes her completely by surprise by saying, "so, wait, your powers - they're vibration-based? Do you hear it in your head, or…?" 
Daisy doesn't know what to say for a second. She was expecting… fear, horror, disgust, revulsion, and honestly, she'd deserve it. 
But instead, she gets… curiosity? 
"Sorry," Lincoln says, ducking his head. "It's just… I haven't had the chance to talk to another Inhuman for a long time." 
His frankness surprises her, and so does his genuine, enthusiastic curiosity. It took all of her friends a while to accept who she was and what she had done, but Lincoln didn't need to question it. 
It's a nice feeling, being accepted immediately. 
And, look, she isn't saying her friends weren't great. Because they were. Great. 
But there's something about talking to someone who is like her, who understands her right down to a molecular level, who is curious rather than afraid. 
So she tells him about her powers, about how it feels like she has a hangover made of bees after she uses them. 
His whole face lights up, and before she knows it, she's swept up in an entire conversation. 
And Daisy is surprised to find how much she's smiling as she lies down on her crappy cot that night. 
Being Inhuman… it's a part of her. In her blood. 
And, okay, talking about it can never compare to the real thing. 
But Lincoln is Inhuman, too. And there are all these things, little things, she couldn't tell her friends because they just wouldn't get it. 
Now, though… well. There's a reason she's smiling up at her ceiling. 
She specifically seeks him out the next day at breakfast, and the happy-surprised look he gives her as she sits down next to him is enough to make her decide immediately that yeah, she's staying. 
He's just so… nice. 
Everything about Lincoln is nice. Spending time with him reminds her about all the good things in Lai Shi. 
Plus, the two of them can really talk, for ages and ages - tucked away in a little corner of the prison yard where the guards can't see them. Daisy feels like they've covered everything from their favourite board games to what it's like to use their powers (and how much they miss them), and it's really nice. 
Her friends are absolutely amazing, but there are times when she just feels like SUCH a third wheel. (The heart eyes Fitz and Jemma can send each other sometimes, honestly.) 
But now she doesn't have to feel awkwardly sidelined anymore - she can just go talk to Lincoln. 
And she does. All the time. 
She doesn't realise what's happening until one day when she's hightailing it away from Fitz-and-Jemma and Hunter-and-Bobbi and May-and-Coulson, all of whom have decided to, er, have some couple time. At the same time. 
And she catches herself thinking, well, at least I've got Lincoln. 
That's when it hits her like a ton of bricks. 
She was just trying to get away from all these couples, and then her brain automatically jumped to Lincoln?!?! 
That doesn't make any sense! 
Unless… wait. 
Wait, wait, wait. 
Oh, shit. 
Oh, no, no, no. 
This is really bad. 
Daisy's not stupid. She knows her mother's got people in this prison, watching her all the time - it's why she hasn't tried to escape yet. 
Spending too much time with anyone is a risk - if she gets too close to anyone, her mother could use them against her. 
But she knows her mom. Jiaying doesn't think friendships are nearly as strong as they can be, so as long as Daisy doesn't give her an explicitly romantic bond to exploit, she's fine.
 Well, shitty shitty fuck fuck. She had very nearly gone and done just that. 
Daisy takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and tries her very hardest to convince herself that, no, she's just imagining things, they're just good friends, that's all, finished and done. 
But then Lincoln's voice breaks into her thoughts. "Daisy?" He sounds concerned, and she feels his warm hand on her shoulder, just a little awkward because of the stupid cuffs, but there. "Are you okay? You look worried." 
She swallows hard, opening her eyes slowly. The look in his eyes… he cares so much. 
She knows, then, that she definitely wasn't imagining things. This - their friendship - is hovering on the edge of more. 
She also knows that she has to end it. Immediately. 
But, oh, God, how does she say this? 
Lincoln's eyes are full of concern as he searches her face. "Daisy?" His hand on her shoulder is still there, soft and warm and reassuring, and right now it burns like a brand. 
She steps sharply away, already feeling awful for the hurt and confusion that flickers over his face. 
"I'm fine," she says, and her voice sounds off, even to her own ears. "I just… I can't do this anymore." 
Lincoln blinks. "Can't… what?"
"This," she says, gesturing sharply between them and trying to ignore how the hurt in his blue eyes stabs her straight in the stomach. "I can't do this. It's too much. Too close." 
She turns away, because she doesn't think she can look at him right now. 
But he catches her arm, tugging her around to face him again. "I'm sorry," he says, and she almost laughs, because he's the one apologising? What. 
"I'm so sorry if I pushed you too far, or too fast," he continues, his blue eyes genuinely anguished, and oh God this is tearing her apart. "I just thought we were friends, and I never meant to push, I swear. I just thought maybe… But, Daisy, if you're not comfortable with it, I'll step back as far as you need me to. Just please don't leave, I -" 
Daisy shakes her head, unable to find any words.
 This is all just so massively, monumentally unfair. In any other life, they could have been together. They could have been happy. 
But because of her mother, they can't.  
Daisy can almost feel the tears prickling at her eyes, which shocks her, because she never cries. 
But then again, she's also never been in a situation like this before. 
She wants to tell him it's nothing like that, she'd like nothing more than to kiss him right now. 
Instead, she forces out the words, "I can't." 
His eyes are almost disbelieving for a second, then so hurt and betrayed it physically stings, then… nothing. His gaze goes completely blank.
It's far, far worse, and she immediately wants to take her words back, every single one of them. 
But she can't. 
"Okay," he says, clipped, and turns away. 
Daisy buries her head in her hands. She wants to tell him it's got nothing to do with him - she'd give anything to take this step with him. 
But she can't. It's better for him if he doesn't know the truth, because then he won't ever come after her again. It's better this way. 
Only, it turns out, it's really not. 
Apparently one of the guards saw their little confrontation, and somehow twisted it up so that Jiaying heard a story about a lovers' argument. 
She comes to collect Lincoln the next day. 
The worst thing is, Daisy wasn't even there when it happened - they took her away for a "special inspection." 
She had to hear about it later from Jemma. 
And when she did, the dam cracked. 
Jiaying had manipulated her into doing her dirty work for years. Then she had thrown her into a prison. Then she had kept her apart from probably the first decent boyfriend Daisy would ever have - and now she had taken Lincoln away, when Daisy hadn't even actually told him how she felt?
 It's too. fucking. much. 
Daisy feels a kind of buzzing in her head as a slow, boiling anger built up in her body. 
How dare Jiaying. How dare she? 
The buzzing sound in her head grows louder and louder and LOUDER, until she can't take it anymore and let's it out in a desperate, furious scream. 
The cuffs on her wrists shatter into a million pieces - along with every single window in the building. 
For a moment, there's perfect silence. Daisy stares at her free hands in wonder, and gasps out loud as she feels a a wave of vibrations ripple through her body. 
Oh. Oh, but she's missed this.
 This is who she is. 
Then the screaming starts, and it jerks Daisy sharply into action.
 Right now, she doesn't give a damn how the hell it happened. She's got her powers back, and she's bloody well going to put them to good use.
 When the first wave of guards comes pouring in, she's ready for them - blasting them across the compound and into the far wall with a hugely satisfying CRASH. 
She walks through the door and into the yard slowly, and it's as though her every step is singing with power. 
Quake is back. 
Wisely, nobody tries to stand in her way - one of the guards even stammers, his eyes literally squeezed shut in terror, "J-Jiaying's in the summerhouse." 
"Thank you," Daisy says, cold and calm. But just before she leaves, she turns to her group of friends, who are all gaping at her, slack-jawed, "well? Are you coming along?" 
They all move after her as one. 
And Daisy has never felt more powerful as she does that moment when she blasts down the doors to her mother's summerhouse. 
Lincoln is lying on the floor, barely conscious by the looks of him, with Jiaying standing over him. 
Daisy had thought she would hesitate to attack her own mother, but this?
 She will not allow this. 
She blasts Jiaying with a shattering shockwave, knocking her into the far wall, where she falls down, limp and unconscious. 
Daisy is vaguely aware of Coulson and Jemma rushing over to Jiaying's side (Jemma with a stethoscope, and Coulson with handcuffs) but all she can really focus on is Lincoln. 
She rushes over to crouch down next to him, holding her hand over his cuffs to shatter them. And before he can do much as thank her, she's talking. 
"Lincoln, I am so, so sorry," she says fervently, reaching for both his hands and lacing her fingers tightly with his. "I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away, I swear I never meant for this to happen, I would never -" 
"Daisy," he interrupts, untangling their hands so he can cup her face. "Daisy, it's okay. I know you wouldn't." 
She leans forward and presses her forehead against his, letting her actions do the talking for her. 
It seems to work, because his grip on her face softens. "I figured that's why you did it," he tells her in a lower voice. 
She blinks. "You did?" 
His gaze is wry. "Well, it did take me a while, but yeah, the whole kidnapping thing kind of helped me figure it out." A small smile tugs at his lips, and it's the best thing she's seen all day. "And, you know," he says, and his voice is almost playful. "I didn't think I was that bad at reading your signals." 
Daisy can feel herself smiling as she echoes his actions, cradling his face in her hands. "You're not," she says. "Bad at reading me." 
He's smiling, too, and the blossom of hope in her chest it gives is the most wonderful feeling she's had in a long time. "Good," he says. 
And then they're kissing. She's not sure who moved first, or even how exactly they got there, but she kind of suspects it was a mutual thing. 
And, in some far-off corner of her mind, she knows that there's going to be a lot of work to do. The world's governments need to be rebuilt. Jiaying needs to be locked up in her own prison. The Inhumans are going to need a new leader. 
But right now, she really doesn't care. 
The world can suck it up and wait a little bit. 
Right now, she's busy. 
The End.
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evien-stark · 4 years
Text
✧I Need You✧  Chapter 184
Frank Castle was found overwhelmingly guilty by a jury of his peers. Though you’d tried not to give too much of your mental space to the entire trial, you had watched pieces of it. Matt Murdock had been missing through many key parts of it. Their defense fell apart. They were trying to go for not guilty by reason of mental defect. Maybe they would have won if they’d been better. Or maybe they would have won if they’d had a better handle on their client. 
Your lawyers would have never put Frank Castle on the stand. Never. Not in a million years. For good reason. You knew the second he was put there, it was over. And, predictably, the jury had a hard time finding him innocent after he’d had a huge outburst and told the entire courtroom that he was happy that he’d killed all those people and that the second he was out, he’d go on killing. 
That was it. It was over after that. 
Damage control became your life the day the trial ended. This was a hot topic and there was no getting away from it. A pit formed in your stomach. All you could do was deny and deflect and try to use reason. Which was what you did that night on MSNBC. It was what you did the next day on three different daytime talkshows, two afternoon interviews, and one late night beatdown. It went on and on like that for a week.
Assuring the guests and the interviewer- and everyone watching at home- that you were sorry for what Frank Castle went through. That it was a terrible atrocity what happened to his family. But he was also not enhanced. He was not like your team. And that your team did not condone wanton violence. Did not condone murdering. Frank Castle had his methods, and he was being put behind bars probably for the rest of his life because of them. A jury had ruled. There was no other way about it. 
You usually left off with that maybe it would have been better to put him in a psych facility where he could get help. That he was troubled. That he was grieving. And that grief had made him very dangerous. But… this was not your call to make. And when one of the hosts got perturbed and asked if you wanted to grant a murderer leniency- if you wanted to go easy on someone who had taken other people away from their families… you kept steady as you talked about the cycle of violence. 
Locking Frank Castle up… maybe you didn’t agree with it. He needed help. And he wasn’t going to get it in prison. But no matter what, despite the way you felt, you were not behind murdering for justice. Never. That was not something you stood by, it was not something Stark Industries stood by, and certainly it was not something the Avengers stood by. 
Stocks miraculously held steady as you put in the work. The conversation drifted. People moved on. And that was about as much as you could ask for. 
--- 
It was raining on the night you were coming home late from another television interview. November twentieth. A friday. Your time on air had felt less like an interview and more like a debate- but you’d agreed to go on Fox, so you’d been prepared. But even sitting in the backseat of your car while Happy drove back to the Tower felt difficult. You were ready to just go to bed. Call it quits. On many levels. 
There had been heavy traffic ever since you’d taken off from the curb. Moving about five inches at a time. Happy apologized, overly so. You told him it was okay. Gotten on a long phone call with Tony. Told him you were going to be home later than you’d planned for. He, of course, told you you could always take the short route. But to be fair to Happy who you’d asked to accompany you, you, of course, were not going to do that. 
About ten blocks out from the Tower, traffic really halted to a standstill. You’d been sitting in place for six minutes or so. Needing some air, you rolled the window down, held your palm outside, skyward, catching a few cool drops against your skin. Took a deep breath and just reminded yourself to be patient. Happy apologized. Again. You told him it was okay. Again. 
And just as it seemed like cars were moving again, he drove by a darkened alleyway. At least it was. Until a brilliant flash of colors went off. You were suddenly moving too quick to see after all that time being stuck. You tapped against his backseat anxiously. “Stop- hang on-” 
It wasn’t the spark of light. It was the feeling of dread. Of absolute terror radiating from the back of that alleyway. And if not for that, a young girl crying out, “Somebody help me!” Would have been more than enough. 
Happy screeched the car to a halt and you jumped out of the back, into the rain. He called after you, and you heard his car door open as he scrambled to follow you, popping an umbrella up over you. At the mouth of the alley was the girl that voice belonged to, and crowding around her were three big men in what looked like SWAT gear. 
She spotted you and waved a hand. “Hey- please! Over here!” She had big fluffy black hair, half parted back in top pigtails, sporting a bright yellow jacket covered in enamel pins. 
“Excuse me officers.” You neared. Happy stayed right behind you. Without looking at him you felt his hand going to his gun. He was holding expertly still but inside he was nervous. 
The men didn’t even turn to you. “Leave the area ma’am. This is government business.” 
“Oh is it now? The government is asking secret police to round up innocent young girls?” Your Reactor was in your purse. In the car. If they wanted to do something about your presence there was probably little you could do to stall them. 
To make matters were, you were pissing them off. And, with all their government authority, the man in the middle didn’t even turn to look at you. Instead gaging your distance- probably by the sound of your voice- and then stepped back and moved to ram the butt of his gun against your temple. 
At least that’s what he wanted to do. 
You instead dodged and grabbed him by the wrist, giving him a nice sharp twist. The other men turned once you yanked his gun from him with your free hand and threw it back. Weapons were drawn on you, Happy had his gun up- but once they saw you- 
“Oh shit.” 
You made a face at him. “You think?” Giving the one in your custody a little warning turn without breaking his wrist and then letting him go. “Now- you’re gonna tell me what the hell you’re doing here- and on whose orders.” 
“We don’t answer to you.” 
A roll of your eyes. “Who do you answer to?” 
The one you’d grabbed cradled his arm to his stomach. “President Ellis. So you can take this up with him.” 
Purposefully, you changed positions on the field, getting right in his face while stepping back and to the side a few times over. Covering the girl finally- although… there was a strange presence nearby her- “And what is this?” 
The two idiots looked at each other and then their little ringleader, who issued an order. “Call this in!” 
Your mouth opened to tell LUNA to throw out an EMP and disable their communications, but something strange happened before you could. A chill passed by you, and then it looked as if a girl came out of nowhere- maybe out of the dumpster- bumping into them- no… through them?- at least until she rounded to the side and then made physical contact with the last guy and faked a fumble as she said, “Oops! Sorry!” 
 It all happened so fast but you realized the reason- whatever electronics they had on them- walkies, night-vision goggles and phones hanging on their hips, all crackled up with static. The soldier on the left started getting very nervous. He shoved the girl back- you caught her by the arms and then twisted to turn her in a deposit behind you, one arm up to protect the two of them, as one of the men shouted, “We’re busted!” 
Using his sudden anxiety you drew it up into a bigger ball and then pushed it onto them. “Tell me what you’re doing here. Now. What does Ellis need with kids in New York?” 
“Not kids.” The leader spat, standing tall to you despite himself. Though he couldn’t exactly hide his sudden tremors. At least not from you. “We’re following orders. To round up inhumans.” 
Your nose wrinkled and your brows knit with the very picture of disgust. “That’s what we’re doing now? What a reprehensible term.” Ellis was starting a scare campaign right underneath you? “Inhuman in what way?” When they all looked between each other you forced it. “Come on. Be honest with me. I know that’s what you want.” 
Whether or not they had a genuine bone in their body, you were able to replicate the feeling for them. 
The one that had yet to speak up looked at you. “You know. Like your people.” 
“Enhanced.” Helping him out. 
“I don’t care what you call it. They’re calling them Inhumans and we have orders to round them up.” 
You stepped forward, feeling a certain rage coming to a boil. “And do what to them?” 
The main soldier sneered at you. “Who fucking cares what happens to ‘em after that.” 
“I do.” You were frightening them. Good. “I don’t know if you gentlemen remember, but we fought a whole war over secret police rounding up people and throwing them in camps- I assume that’s what we’re doing here, right? Being a little on the nose? Ellis isn’t a smart man.” 
He scoffed in your face. “What’re you, now- Captain America?” 
“I’m Lady Iron.” Getting right in his space. He tried to back away. But there was nowhere to go. “Part of the Avengers, in case you need a refresher.” 
“Really? ‘Cuz way intel’s been telling it, you and your boyfriend haven’t been part of that team for a while. What happened? They kick you out?” 
You let no surprise or curiosity enter your expression. “Interesting intel you’ve got. What’s their name? And- while we’re at it- what’s the name of this squad?” He opened his mouth but you held a finger up. “And don’t lie to me.” 
Maybe he was going to. But for one reason or another, he reconsidered. “ATCU. Advanced Threat Containment Unit.” 
Threats. Ellis was supposedly sending out little SWAT teams to go contain threats. Enhanced individuals they were labeling as inhuman. This was pretty far gone already. How had it gotten this bad? While deliberating on just exactly how you were going to send this band of idiots on their merry way, you’d given the leader an opening. 
He was mad. Which made sense. You’d blown his operation and were standing in the way of his goal. Talking down to him, no less. So when he grabbed your arm you only started a little. “Fuck this. We’ll take the both of you. Let Price sort it out herself.” 
“Hey-!” Happy was ready to make a move but him shouting and drawing his gun again had the other two soldiers turning towards him, raising their own weapons. 
You drew attention back very quickly, seething while also projecting a tidal wave of fright over all three of them. “If you want to keep that hand, I’d suggest you take it off me. You know exactly who I am and exactly what I’m capable of. I’ve put down things far bigger and more important than you. I won’t even blink. So you’ve got until the count of three and after that my mercy has run dry. One-” 
That sharp start of the count was all he needed. He reeled back like you’d burned him. Trying to gather up any last shred of dignity he pointed his gun at you, one handed, finger on the trigger. You stood firm. If not for yourself, then for the poor girl you were protecting. The two of you stared each other down until finally he lowered the weapon and shook his head. “Fuck this.” Again with even more emphasis than the last time he’d said it. “Not worth this much trouble. Come on. Fall back.” 
The other did men did as commanded, following their little leader out of the alleyway and into a parked black SUV on the other side of the street. You watched them. Maybe a little too menacingly. But after they were gone, Happy turned back to you and frowned. “You alright?” 
“I’m fine. Thank you, Happy.” Assuring him easily. This was hardly the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. And it was for good reason. Turning back you saw the girls just waiting. And finally you actually saw the other one that had pretended to stumble onto this little scene. Small and slender, with brown hair in a high ponytail and bright blue eyes. “You kids alright?” 
The one that seemed to appear out of nowhere nodded. “Thank you- so much.” 
The other girl grinned. “You really did a number on those creeps. It was awesome.” 
“Let’s talk in the car.” They’d been standing out in the rain for so long it was unfair to keep them hostage any longer. It wasn’t hard to convince them, either. Once in the spacious backseat of the limo- after they were done oo-ing and aah-ing over all the tech and lights and looking around, you put one leg up over the other. “So. Are you girls really enhanced?” 
 In what way, you wondered. They were so young. Mid-teens, maybe. The only kids you’d seen that young were Wanda and Pietro- and they were older than these girls for sure … you were mostly sure, anyway. What did the government want with them? Had they been experimented on by the government? And now Ellis was trying to round them back up to cover for his mistakes?
The girl in the yellow jacket sighed with the biggest eye roll you’d probably ever seen. Teens. “Shows what they know. Inhumans. Totally rude. We’re mutants.” She said this like she was… proud of it. Like mutant was a better term than inhuman. ...you weren’t so sure about that. 
“Mutants?” Asked with a little tilt of your head. “I think we’re jumping ahead. Do you two have names?” 
The girl with the brown hair smiled. “I’m Kitty, ma’am. And this is Jubilee.” 
“And what are you two doing out so late?” 
They both looked at each other. Probably trying to concoct some sort of cover story. But they couldn’t seem to come up with them. Kitty frowned. There was a modicum of guilt radiating off the both of them. “We were just… we wanted to come see the city with some friends but. They bailed when we actually got here.” 
Jubilee fell back against the seat, tilting her head back with a sigh. “The professor is gonna kill us.” 
You already knew asking what professor was asking for even more trouble. This seemed like a whole thing. And maybe a little bit beyond you. “Did you travel from far away?” 
Kitty nodded. “Hours. It’ll practically be morning by the time we get home.” 
That was no good. They were too young to be traveling this late at night to go back wherever they came from. Especially with what had just happened to them. “Look. It’s not safe for you to go back out. I don’t think you’re being followed but, it’s possible.” The two of them looked at each other suddenly. Spooked. “Is there somebody you can call- so you can let them know you’re okay? And that you’ll be staying at the Avengers Tower tonight?” 
“We will???” The question came out of both of them. 
You couldn’t help a smile. “If you’d rather a hotel…” 
Jubilee waved her hand. “No way! I’ve heard so many things about that place. I need to go there.” When Kitty elbowed her she slowed down. “I mean- ...we appreciate it. What you’re doing. ...and that you saved us.” 
“You’re welcome. Just. Let me call Tony.” He needed to know about all of this. Especially the whole rounding up enhanced kids in the middle of the night for who knew what reason. This was something you were going to have to deal with immediately. But… first came the girls’ wellbeing. So. With that in mind. You took your phone out and dialed him. 
He’d know what to do about this. Tony always knew what to do. “Still sitting in traffic? I’m starting to think you just don’t wanna come home.” 
“Never.” Assuring him quickly, turning away to hide an amorous smile from the kids in your backseat. Who were staring. “I uh- I picked up a couple of kids-” 
“Date night is getting very weird.” 
“-they were being attacked.”
“Less weird. ...for us, anyway.” 
“You don’t know the half of it.” 
“So what am I missing?” 
“They call themselves mutants.” A very unexpected silence hit the other end of the phone. Even though you weren’t there with him, you could feel it. Tony was thinking. About something. And when he took a little too long, “Tony?” 
“-I’m sorry. Did you say mutants?” 
This made you very uncomfortable. This… was something very telling. “I did. What do you know about this that I don’t?” Clearly something. 
He sighed. “I have to make some calls.” 
“So do they.” 
“I’ll bet. Bring ‘em here. I’ll explain when you get in.” 
You couldn’t help your frown. “Is this something I’m going to be mad about?” 
From his end of the line, you knew he was frowning, too. “I’d like to count my blessings and say no. And I’d also like to not get you wound up.” 
“...but.” 
“Yeah. There’s always a but.” 
You felt his guilt from where you were. Basically like it was raining from the Tower- which you could now see out the window. Approaching fast. “We’ll talk soon.” 
“Sounds good. Hey-” Trying to catch you before you hung up. So you waited. “I love you.” Thankfully this didn’t sound like an admission of guilt. Just… something he thought you should know. 
Thankfully for him, you did. “I love you, too. Whatever this is we’ll deal with it.” 
“We always do.” Understatement of the century. 
 Your anniversary was five days away. Hopefully this wasn’t as bad as you were suddenly dreading...
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bluebellwriting · 4 years
Text
Love Me Tender Part 1
An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister
You were in the middle of baking a cake when your little brother and the two girls dead-set on helping him walked into the hotel. It was supposed to be a celebratory-post-interview cake/congratulations-on-Angel-being-clean-for-two-days cake, but after you heard the interview from the little radio you had set up in the kitchen, it was now a condolences cake. Also Angel was no longer receiving any cake, which would probably be the only thing to motivate him to stay clean for a few days.
You love your little brother with all your heart, as you do with all of your siblings, but you had to all but force him to come to this hotel because you were sick of watching him kill himself for shits and giggles... well, not “kill” himself, but you get it. And he just wasn’t taking this seriously. It’s not like you wanted him redeemed, even if you did believe in it. The best part about being in Hell was that you were finally reunited with your siblings and dad. But if these girls could at least get him to stop putting himself in precarious situations and therefore cause you a little less grief, you would be eternally grateful. So you stayed at the hotel with him, just to keep him in check and also to take break from the drama that was Hell’s respective mafias. Charlie had also begged you to stay because you were an excellent cook and baker from years of making meals for your hopeless siblings.
You poke your head out of the kitchen door to see Charlie sulking and Vaggie scolding your brother. Sighing, you return to your cake, deciding to have a little chat with Angel afterwards. You couldn’t handle any arguing right now. You had just had a rather annoying conversation with your other brother regarding Angel’s progress, how you should give up on him and just come back to work with him and your dad:
“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.
“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”
“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”
“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.
So yeah, you really just wanted to shove your face in the bitter dark chocolate confection as soon as possible. Now that they were all home and somewhat safe, you took this moment to turn the volume up on your radio, letting some Ella Fitzgerald and Doris Day drown out the arguments. You also apparently drowned out the arrival of a red-clad overlord.
“So tell me, what do you have here in way of a staff?” Alastor scans the lobby of the hotel, quite unimpressed with the choice in decor and the dust. Honestly, there was dust everywhere, it was disgusting.
“Well...” Charlie motions towards the glowering moth demon and he shakes his head. How did the young princess expect to get this place off the ground with a less than welcoming manager and a debauched patron? Speaking of...
Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile.
“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”
“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.
“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.
“There’s also my sister.” Alastor’s ears perk up and he strolls over to the door. As he nears, his sensitive ears pick up the sound of Ella Fistgerald, the distinct sound of radio static, and another feminine voice singing quietly along. Alastor’s grin widens as he slowly opens the door so as not to make a sound. Revealing you, an incredibly small and ample young lady making frosting. He leans against the doorframe, watching your fluffy (h/c) hair bounce around and your ample hips swaying to the melody of “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” a song from before his time but not too much later. He takes a whiff and smells the familiar bitterness of dark chocolate, the only sweet thing he can remotely bear. Well, this establishment is just full of surprises, isn’t it?
He’s not quite sure how much time passes, in all honesty he’s perfectly content watching you shimmy your way around the kitchen, which is strange for him. He can count on one hand the number of people he enjoys spending more than ten minutes with. Well, maybe he’ll just have to add you to the list, if your taste in music is anything to go by at least.
“Hey sis! Ya got a secret admirer!” The shrill voice of Angel rings in his ears and causes you to whip around and brace yourself against the counter. You wrap both sets of arms around yourself like a shield and frown at him briefly. Alastor freezes at the hard glare, even if it’s only on your face for an instant before it softens to a confused stare.
You recognized the Radio Demon immediately because, unlike your brother you actually kept up with politics. You made it your business to know who was worth knowing and who was dangerous enough to avoid, and thankfully up until this point you were able to avoid his path of carnage. But the man before you isn’t smiling wickedly like you had always imagined. There isn’t blood in his teeth nor is he invading your space with the intention to strike. No, this man is just standing idly in the doorway with a wide, friendly smile. And he’s tall, like really tall. And way too thin. Goodness, when was the last time he ate?
“Um... hello,” you say quietly, still keeping your arms around you, a habit when you’re around strange men. He lurches forward and you flinch, not just because you’re scared of him specifically (you are a bit though), but because you have a... complicated history with men rushing you.
He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.
“Alastor, darling. A pleasure.” His voice is oozing static and glee, but he’s not as loud as you thought he would be. He leans down and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman, something you haven’t experienced since you were a young girl.
“And who might you be, darling?” You catch your brother passing by the doorway, snickering at you and you realize that he still hasn’t released your hand. You tug it away from him and give him a polite but small smile.
“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”
“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought.
The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.
“Why that smells delicious, dearie.” He strolls over to the oven in only two steps and plucks your cakes out of the oven with a bare hand. You gawk at him, because he seems completely unbothered by the scorching metal in his hands. He crosses the kitchen back to you and places the pans down on the counter, flashing you a proud smile like he’s showing off.
“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of sweets, though. But this smells so good, I’ll just have to try.” He goes to snag some of the cake from a pan and your older-sister instincts take over before you can even stop yourself. You smack his hand. You smack the Radio Demon’s hand. His neck snaps towards you at a painful angle at an inhuman speed. His eyes turn into radio dials and his smile is just vicious. But you don’t seem to care in this moment and just shoot him a stern glare.
“You can’t have any yet. It’s hot and I still need to frost it. You can have some when it’s ready with everyone else,” you tell him simply and bump his rigid body to the side with your hip to begin frosting.
Alastor is stunned. Because he hates being touched when he doesn’t expect it or initiate it. Because years of being an overlord means that you have to keep your guard up for any sort of attack but he doesn’t seem to mind when it comes from you. Because you weren’t actually attacking him you were just... protecting your cake? Because you didn’t seem to really care who he was in that moment and he kind of liked that, that you weren’t afraid to defend what was yours, even if it was a cake. Because you weren’t just a shy little spider anymore. You were spunky.
He wills his eyes to return to normal and smirks at you. He reaches on long arm over your shoulder and attempts to steal some frosting but one of your arms smacks his hand away again. He continues, his attempted assault on your cake and each time one of your arms smacks him away while the others focus on frosting the cake expertly. You’re quite annoyed by his mocking. Alastor is the most entertained he’s been in years. He loves the way your eyebrows crease together as you concentrate on piping, and the wrinkling of your nose when he gets too close to ruining said piping.
When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.
“Are you done?” you ask. He just gives you an innocent smile in return and shrugs his shoulders. You roll your eyes and push past him to carry the cake out into the lobby for everyone to enjoy. He stays in the kitchen a moment longer, watching you march away and taking in the tingling felt on the spot where your small form brushed against him. He’s shocked, completely and utterly shocked at how much he wants to hold on to that tingling feeling.
The radio continues to play as the song finishes
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Alastor decided then and there that he was going to make it his mission to get you more comfortable around him, if it meant he’d get to see more of the spirited young lady with excellent music taste.
Dream a little dream of me
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minghaoss-archive · 5 years
Text
when we were young• sicheng (m)
summary : it’s the year 2000 and you fall in love for the first time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings : implied smut, angst.
dong sicheng x gender neutral reader
Sicheng. His name is the first and the last thing that you think about. His face you find in between old newspapers, photographs and the honeyed scent of Beijing’s rain.
You remember the day you met the boy. Just a few days after he moved to the area. In that little local market of the rather vast city, with music tucked away in your ears. The ruby tent towered over a line of vegetables fencing around a newly built, rather little store. Amongst the dirty, dilapidated wooden boxes people have been lounging in for years and years, the shiny white of the storefront stood out like a sore thumb. And if the sore thumb could be deemed more sore, it would be because of the grinning boy standing before it.
Sicheng, at first sight, was still, albeit unintentionally, a very shockingly beautiful being. Every little thing about him, even the pearly raindrops caught in his lashes , his face alight, peachy, childish, his coal black eyes, which found yours suddenly. Through a wall of dotted raindrops. A reminder of how you had been staring at him all too long. "You should come in." said he, aloud, ringing, muting the soft plops of rain sloshing and splashing about.
He was the best at mathmatics in your class and you the worst. He was the least expressive, least talkative and you the most: he was the best liked and you the least. Sicheng was classified as the teacher’s pet, the perfect son, the perfect everything, he was kind and intelligent and the boy who blushed peachy when you as asked for a pen.
He was the boy your grandmum gushed about at the dinner table. People who love you always remember. He was the boy who made you deep fried tofu because you liked it better than soggy, he was the boy who had unravelled and even learned religiously, every little thing about you, from something as secretive, acute as your fear of drowning to something as open, trivial as your hate for porridge. He could name your favorite song, the entire CD, the bought for you on your birthday. He was your best friend and he remembered. The littlest of things, the biggest of things. He was your best friend, your first love and last love.
And you remembered, how well he sang, how his face shone, buttery honey, in the sun, you remember his scent, like something sweet, earthy, something real. You remember admitting to him, on your toes, in your uniform, sweaty hands pressed behind your back, when he stared back at you with wide eyes, in his khaki shirt, with surprise spreading all over his face before he smiled that smile of his, he told you he likes you too.
The feeling of his hand, the way those lithe fingers held yours still remains engraved in your bones. Sicheng excelled at riding the bicycle. One day he made you sit behind his bike, the w pavement wet , the sky darkening and the droplets rain sat against your clothes. You remember stopping by the footpath, with him spotting your favorite sweet dish, two steamed sweet potatoes, bought from a street corner shop.
That day, the smell of mud, the whooshing wind in your hair, Sicheng hooked his umbrella’s holder to his bike, leant it against a tree so it would shelter the two of you from the bullet like raindrops. That day you recall, how you two shared songs from his mp3 player, two beating hearts, bodies leaning close so the earphones don’t strain.
Sicheng had a peculiar look in his eyes, like he was the happiest boy, like he’d waited a long long time to be yours, like he were diving head first into an endless sea of his dreams. Passion. Love.
He brushed a loose strand from your face. Lost in the color of your pupils. Cool fingers travelled along the curve of your jaw and cradled the shape.
His fingers brushing against the little wisps of hair curling along your neck. Teeth and tongue. A loving peck which sent ten million electric bolts travelling all over your body. And the boy smiled after, the kind of smile he always smiled when he was genuinely, the kind of smile which reached his eyes, a smile which widened and widened when he spotted the nervous tap of your feet and the fluster evident on your face.
Sicheng was your first kiss.
And he bought you a violin, something you can’t play so well. Something he taught you by the beach, something which helps you aid your fear of the waves gobbling you up.
Your toes sunk into the wet sand and you supposed it would be convenient if it swallowed you whole. See, the sea had always been a petrifying monster. Blue and nipping and enormous. Foamy waves arrived at your toes and pleaded to wash all fears away, little by little. But it wasn't enough, of course. The spark of courage would always dim down you gazed upon the battling blues ahead. It isn't enough.
Not until he joins you.
“Hey, wait,”He sneaked his thin fingers into yours and held them like you'd slip away, had he not. When you looked up at him, his lips briefly curled up in a grin. The pink specks of dimming coloured his face.
It touched his plump, bitten lips first and spread across his cheeks, reached his golden orbs. Quartz sky, and the scarlet sun melted into the blue sea, like lovers who’ve been apart for too long. The horizon turned purple. The sun departed. Take away with her, your fears. You told yourself it’s not so bad a day to fall in love with Sicheng. The blue and the nipping isn't a bad thing.
Sicheng was your first love.
Your relationship was sweet, saccharine and all too perfect, the ride all too nice, euphoric even, but you think, it's funny how you'd forgotten, how happy things have a horrendous way of becoming unhappy, how sweet things rot and how rides could come to a screeching halt.
Sicheng’s university application sparked a new phobia in you. He told you there’s no way foreign universities would take him in with so much competition. Though, it’s only a temporary consolation because you knew, just as anyone in school, that his grades were one of the best in class. Still, you buried your kicking subconscious deep under layers of laughable expectations.
What is buried alive will find a way to claw itself out.
Your conversations with him became shorter. Visits rare. You asked him what the cause of his hollowed cheeks and reddened eyes was. You asked him why he kept pushing you away. And a mouthful of words, nothing short of horrific, Sicheng remains silent.
That day, in mid May of 2000, a season of battling winds, came the breaking, the crumbling, the smelly rotting point.
You desperately reaching out for him. It felt like Sicheng was a phantom. Standing across from you, with the same face and the body and the same hands and the same smile. Only bitter words. A stranger.
You drove yourself away from him, driving your bike at an inhuman speed. Sicheng had been dragging his fingers through his hair in a frustated manner. Suppressing the urge to tear it all out. Alone, he was. On the same pavement you’d kissed for the first time.
You had cried a good amount. Home alone with the rain threatening to make its way into your room. Thunder rumbled overhead and the yellow glow of your room finally burnt out, followed by a knock. A candle sat on your table and streaks of its light crawled before you, defeating the dark. “Great.”
You sniffled, dubiously opening the door to a rather drenched Sicheng. A Sicheng who pathetically attempted to catch his breath. His greenish brown shirt has turned a dark brown.
“What are you doing?" You asked coolly, moving aside to let him in. And Sicheng kissed you with his hands around your face, like he always did, except this time the kiss is urgent, craving, greedy and ravenous. Feet shuffle into your home and the door closes with your back against it.
He pulled away to catch his breath and kissed you again, as if enough was a foreign word in his vocabulary. He begun to kiss your face, your eyes, your nose, you cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist. Bodies pressed tightly against each other. “I got into Harvard, my parents are forcing me to go. I was upset..I didn’t know how to tell you.”
"You're going to leave me?" You asked, lines of searing tears rolled down your heated cheeks. You remember how he touched you, holding your head against his chest. You remember how his arms brought you closer, closer and closer till there were no gaps between you two. You peeled wet tee shirt off of his body and placed your fingers against his abdomen.
Sicheng doesn't answer.
"I want to be your first." Said you, you hope Sicheng never forgets you.
A desire in him blazed so fiercely in him that he got to kissing you again. Hungry, desperate, needy. He touched you like he might lose you. Like he wanted to leave fresh scars, an open wound, a gaping split, everywhere he touched you. The sea. The battling waves.
A rut of his lips. The rush of losing. A goodbye.
Sicheng had always told you that he loved you. And you remained silent, as if to say I can't love anyone else. You can't love anyone else.
Sicheng was your first time.
Love is an awful. Disgusting. And cruel.
Especially when it slips right through your fingers.
See you hugged him close. But the tug of fate, the ugly yellow taxi, a flight and two continents had sworn to pull you apart. You hadn't cried, you couldn't cry. You dug your nails into his shirt instead. You breathed in his scent instead. You wanted to forget him instead.
Sicheng promised you he'd always love you. Sicheng promised you that he'd always think of you. Sicheng promised and promised and promised. But never does he crack your skull open and pour honeyed dreams in. Never an I will come back and always an I love you.
(Sicheng never makes promises he can't keep.)
So you'd watched his face, behind the shield of a splattered rear window. His face youthful, his smile curled, that smile of his. His smile, pearly raindrops, caught in his lashes, young, you wanted to remember him like that.
Sicheng dragged away into the wet roads of China, turning to a mere dot against the background of awful traffic and undulations of ageing buildings.
Sicheng was your first heartbreak.
Sicheng.
His name is the first and the last thing you think about. Somewhere in between dusty books, fading ink and forgotten poetry, you find bitter truths you'd rather not see. You'd read goodbyes are forever, they are syllables for people who never meet again, these words followed you around like reminders, to cinemas, to the library, like the ghost of his promises. An absence more apparent than it should be. An atrocious trick the universe had played on you.
You find yourself wishing those words, a goodbye, too many years and a heartbreak away,
were words you'd forgotten to say.
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