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#what if i ACTUALLY leaned fully into the shapeshifter thing for once
girlboyburger · 4 months
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you better not be freeing your mind at night
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thebisexualdogdad · 9 months
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Could you plz do headcanons with Hellblazer!Reader x Donna Troy?
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Donna troy x Male!reader
● you have known Donna for a decade first meeting back when you were 18
● the justice league dark which you had recently joined were asked to aid the justice league in fighting doomsday
● Dick had written you off but Donna fully believed in your magic
● Dick "really Donna? You're falling for this mumbo jumbo?" He says as they watch you create a potion made of outlandish ingredients Dick had never heard of
● Donna "the Amazon's history is rooted in God's and goddesses, occultism is not too far out of the box"
● sure you two met up every so often to hook up but with the amount of traveling around you both did you decided it was best not to commit to a relationship and ruin the good thing you had
● but then years later she's settled down in San Francisco with the titans so you found a way to make your own pocket dimension headquarters to allow you to move to San Francisco to be with her while still having 24/7 access to the other JLD members when needed
● Donna is the only one on the titans who is allowed to have a key to this pocket dimension
● and Gar and Connor have been banned from even stepping inside after setting off a magical windstorm in your library while messing around with some of your ancient artifacts
● well Kori has been trusted with another key in case of an emergency but no one except you and Donna know that
● Donna walking in on you doing a spell fully naked
● "see something you like love?" You say with a grin
● "Y/N please put some clothes on, the titans need your help"
● you become a mentor of sorts to Rachel teaching her about the supernatural and how to control her powers
● she's also not allowed to take any of your spell/ritual books out of the library because once again Gar and Connor were messing around and accidentally summoned a demon in the titans tower
● Donna and Zatanna are super close
● Zatanna tells Donna so many embarrassing stories about you
● and all the magical mishaps she's witnessed you make
● being the only girl in the JLD Zatanna also likes having other women around
● Zatanna "you think Gar smells bad when he shapeshifts? You don't even want to know the smells that come off of Alec when he returns from the swamp"
● giving Donna your trench coat when it's cold out
● "you know there is something that will warm you up" you say suggestively
● Donna leans in like she's going to kiss you but instead whispers "tequila?"
● Donna pulling you in by your tie to actually kiss you
● and flirting with her at the most inappropriate times during missions
● Jason "does he ever shut up?"
● Jason still hasn't forgiven you for the time you turned him into a rabbit
● in your defense it was Kent's idea after the two of them were arguing because Jason was trying to sneakily put his Dr Fate helmet on despite being warned not to several times
● Jason "it's just a stupid helmet what's the big deal"
● "kid that helmet is one of the most powerful artifacts in the world not even I could handle wearing it, you certainly wouldn't be able to"
● Bobo argues a lot with Dick on who is a greater detective, him or Bruce
● Bobo "Richard, I am a member of mensa"
● Dick "yeah but you're a monkey!"
● Bobo "a chimpanzee actually and batman is the one who comes to me for help not the other way around"
● "he's got a point Dick"
● Dick "not now Y/N!"
● when Donna died you and Rachel stopped at nothing to get her back
● Kent told you it would be impossible to resurrect her but she was the love of your life, you would either get her back or die trying
● when you do finally get her back the two of you decide to put superheroing behind for a bit and travel the world together
● a year later Kori gets a call that you proposed in Paris and that Donna would need her help planning the wedding
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Serious Post For Once. MAJOR trigger warning for some fully-mask-off discussions of (mostly my own internal) racism, generally Actually Talking Abt Real Shit For Once.
ok, so..hm
I don't have the energy to try to write this academically rn so I'm just going to word-vomit it out.
I am really having....Feelings... about the characters of Grendel and Grendel's Mother, specifically re: race and BIPOC identities.
I personally am white as the driven snow (though Jewish, whatever that counts for in 2023. still 'wtf' abt all that personally).
I have been putting my heart and soul into a story centering modern/reincarnated versions of Grendel and Grendel's Mother for about three years now. they are some form of shapeshifter, usually take animalistic/monstrous/hybrid forms, often eat humans, and are canonically descended from Cain (kinda. its complicated but basically they are). they are also both EXTREMELY white.
I'd actually made this choice with an intentional eye on race, way back when this story started outgrowing its roots as a supernatural fanfiction (please dont ask). no longer limited to spn's Genuinely Concerningly White Actor Pool, I had to really look at these characters re: race and decide what I was doing going forward. At the time, I was already looking into Maria Dahvana Headley's "The Mere Wife", and its centering of race both intrigued and really repelled me. At first, the (lbr) graphic depictions of how this story's Grendel's nonwhiteness informs the violence against him shocked me in the way I think they were "supposed" to, and made me really take a step back and reconsider the entire narrative of Beowulf (though to b clear I was already pro-Grendel's side of things at this point) in terms of how closely it matched more modern treatments of BIPOC and specifically young men.
...and then I went "wait. isn't Maria Dahvana Headley white???"
after a LOT of research failed to provide any contradicting evidence, my self-reflection and serious though turned to genuine strong disgust. It felt, and still feels, VERY weird that a white woman with (afaik) white kids wrote a lot of the sentiments in this novel. if you've read it, you know the ones that I mean.
I attempted to research racial themes re: Grendel further and ended up in a rabbit hole about Cain, Ham, Mormons & Bigfoot (seriously.) and all of this, along with some other research, eventually led to the following conclusions:
narratives placing Grendel and His Mother as victims of racialized violence/heroic or sympathetic figures in a racially- and/or socially-conscious work are both amazing and necessary
not if they're written by white people. there's probably some exceptions but honestly that's just weird and makes my hair stand up(derogatory).
I am White People. I should not try to do this.
given the association (certain modern media almost bafflingly aside) between Cain/Ham and justifications for SLAVERY, I, a white author, should not only NOT make these characters BIPOC, but should lean pretty damn hard into their whiteness- it's not "reclaiming" exactly, it's like... "reclaiming"(derogatory)(ironic)
given the current political movements around Viking Shit, and SPECIFICALLY pseudopagan, christian-based anglo-saxon warrior male social orders, the figures of Grendel & His Mother can and maybe even SHOULD serve as symbols of active and violent resistance from within the communities (White As Shit) that the current alt-right claims to represent.
given ALL of that, the best way for me to write these characters is how I'm currently writing them- very white, very monstrous, would probably state their race as "fae" if asked and "white" and/or "european" if specified for human racial terms, explicitly monstrous, symbolic of both (my own) queer/disabled/neurodivergent rage, feeling of incompatibility with most/all friend groups or communities, as well as a larger theme of a "KILL ALL VIKINGS" fantasy enabled by them being Big Scary Creature Beasts.
However... its been a few years. I've been drowing myself in Anglo-Saxon Everything but fully ignoring racial and diversity issues, a huge part of this admittedly being irl stressors in my life that, shall we say, EXTREMELY reduced my capacity for basic empathy & Current Events Awareness to a degree that I'm only starting to repair. as part of this repair, I'm really questioning this. I've read some super fascinating stuff about Grendel & race recently, and yet.
...and yet
I can't shake the feeling that
as a white author, making this a race-centric narrative isn't just not my job/not my turft, its actually kinda pretty racist
however, refusing to write these characters for that reason then involves (at least internally) saying that "this kind of archetype" is ONLY "meant" to be written by BIPOC ppl, because "they're the only ones who really Get The Experience", and HOO BOY. THAT IS RACIST. that is me doing a great big racism right there.
...so what do I do? I really love my take on these characters. I've grown really attached to them. It seems like everything is actually pretty well in order for me in terms of why I made the choices I did- I've looked at the other things I could have done with these themes and they're Extremely Problematic At Best...
but I can't shake the feeling that I'm still missing something, fucking up somehow.
I'd genuinely welcome discussion on this, I'm not going to be offended or defensive about ANYTHING, legit if you want to tear this whole post apart via critique re: art or just my own biases, please do. I'm just trying to figure this shit out.
and possibly overthinking it. that is also definitely a possiblity.
*to be clear I don't hate or dislike Headley. I just don't GET her. I'm not sure WHAT to think.
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lunar-wandering · 3 years
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@skellebonez Happy Birthday!!! i have written this fic for you, please enjoy.
-
'In hindsight, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.' Was what Macaque thought, as he sat on MK's windowsill, disguised as a cat-
With Wukong, in bird form, standing directly across from him.
Originally, Macaque had decided to hang out around MK's apartment as a cat, purely for recon purposes. Or, well, at least, that's what he told himself. In reality, he was just really concerned about him. But, of course, Macaque wasn't just going to let MK know about that, so the next logical course of action was obviously to spy on him as a cat. Nothing could go wrong with this plan, nothing at all, there would be no unnecessary panic cause by this.
(He ignored how panicked he'd felt when MK had actually opened up his window and let him come in for the first time. Or when MK had started rambling about his day to him. Or when MK had started calling him 'Shadow'. Or when-)
Now though, staring down Wukong, Macaque had to admit, that maybe he hadn't exactly thought this through.
Wukong hopped a bit closer, ruffling his wings a bit, and Macaque lifted one paw to step back, fur bristling as he hissed, which made Wukong pause, head tilting in something akin to amusement.
And then MK opened the window.
"Shadow, what are you hissing at- oh hey Monkey King!" He said, leaning out the window and picking Macaque up, before leaning back to make space for Wukong to change back to normal and enter through the window. Macaque let himself be lifted into the apartment, but sent an intense glare at Wukong as the monkey shifted back to normal, now very obviously looking amused.
"So this is the cat you've been talking about, bud?" He asked, not fully entering the room, instead choosing to sit on the windowsill. "You've been showing up late to practice because you've been distracted talking to this guy?"
"Yeah, why do you ask?" MK set Macaque down on the ground, the shadow monkey quickly moving to put some distance between himself and the other two. "What, are you jealous of a cat?"
"No." Wukong denied, seemingly struggling for a proper response. Macaque watched as the other monkey's eyes lit up with an idea, and oh, Macaque had a feeling he wasn't going to like this. "Just, well, it's a stray cat right?"
"Yeah? Where are you going with this?" MK asked, narrowing his eyes at his mentor in suspicion.
"Well, why don't you just let it live with you?" Wukong asked, and Macaque went still. "I mean, how do you know that it's been eating okay? You should probably get some food for it and all that."
Macaque was right, he hated this idea.
At least MK wouldn't agree to it, he did live above a restaurant after all, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to keep a cat around.
Or at least, that's what Macaque had thought, before he watched with growing horror as MK actually pondered the idea, before eventually-
"Y'know what, that's not that bad of an idea." MK said, and Macaque felt pure terror in his veins.
-
Within a few hours, Macaque found himself with a rather difficult choice to make.
Option one, admit that he was, in fact, not actually a cat. Change back to his normal self, face whatever consequences would definitely come, and then leave.
His other option, was to suck it up and eat the cat food MK had just placed in front of him.
For a few minutes, Macaque just sat there, switching between staring down at the cat food, and staring up at MK's innocent smile.
(Wukong had long since left, a fact that Macaque was very grateful for. He'd rather not have Wukong witness him being treated like an actual cat while full well knowing that he was not.
That said though, the look Wukong had given him as he left did not promise good things.)
Back to the point, the cat food.
If Macaque was being honest (for once), he absolutely did not want to go with the option of eating the cat food.
But....
If he revealed himself, what then? Would he get attacked? Kicked out?
Well, it's not like he had actually been staying here to begin with, but just kinda hanging around was.....nice, almost.
He wasn't so sure he was ready to lose it. (And wasn't that a thought he would have to unpack later....)
Decision made, he leaned over and nibbled a little bit of the cat food.
And almost immediately spat it back out again. Fuck, that was horrible, how could cats actually eat that stuff-
"What's the matter, is your sense of taste too refined for this?" MK asked, and Macaque looked up, seeing the smile on his face and how he was barely holding back laughter, amusement twinkling in his eyes and- oh.
Oh that little shi-
Glaring, Macaque stood up, shapeshifting back to normal.
"You." He said, threateningly pointing at MK. "You've known all along, haven't you."
That seemed to be MK's last straw, as he broke into laughter, leaning up against the counter to keep himself from collapsing completely as he folded over in mirth. (And oh, now Macaque was really glad Wukong had left, he thinks he'd actually die if the other monkey had witnessed all of this.)
"Yeah yeah, laugh it up." Macaque said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the floor, his tail lashing back and forth in irritation. "Y'know, I did not expect you to be the kind of person to play the long con."
"And I didn't expect you to be the kind of person that eats cat food!" MK wheezed.
Macaque, seeing no better response, hissed at him, and MK fell to the ground in hysterics.
-
"So was that time with the laser pointer just you getting super into your role of being a cat or-"
"Kid, if you don't forget that happened right now, I will personally introduce you to the concept of amnesia."
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moonlit-han · 4 years
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nxt 2 u: mornings with stray kids ↠ all members
genre: imagine/reaction, fluff, domestic bliss, established relationship au word count: 3k warnings: highly suggestive, 18+ themes, swearing request: yes but also no? a/n: femme-leaning reader~
✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧
↠↞
bang chan
you roll over at the sound of chan mumbling in his sleep
he kinda wakes up
just a little blearily
and gives you this huge smile (♡‿♡)
bc you're actually there, the love of his life
and he still can't believe he's lucky enough to wake up beside you every day
so you snuggle closer and kiss his nose
then his eyelids
and finally his mouth so gently
channie just curls more tightly to you and pulls you to his chest
his hair is all tousled in the cutest way
like one part of it is sticking up like a lil cat ear (or wolf ear, since it's chan)
and you kinda just melt when you notice it
you can’t resist combing your fingers through his hair
when he finally wakes up
chan peppers your face with kisses, 
carefully sliding on top of you
to then slowly, so slowly kiss you
his hands travel all over you, slipping under the old t-shirt of his you’re wearing
and soon you’re wriggling under him, wanting more (*/ω\)
so chan works what seems like magic with his hands and/or mouth
until your toes are curl and you feel like you’re going to burst
but chan just grins and rolls off the bed
leaving you gasping and mildly grumpy ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚
but you still get up to make blueberry pancakes
bc it’s saturday and that means blueberry pancakes  ( `^´ )ノ*:・゚✧
so you’re standing at the counter, combining the ingredients and waiting for the griddle to heat up
chan comes in after taking a shower
and is so overcome with tenderness at how sweet you look
just standing there in the kitchen,
still in his t-shirt and your underpants
so he wraps his arms around you from behind
and presses himself against you, teasing again a little
he nuzzles your neck, just begging for kisses
so soon, the stove is turned off and breakfast almost forgotten
as you stumble, giggling, back into the bedroom to cuddle and kiss more
and when you’re just about falling asleep
bc who needs to be awake on a saturday morning?! ┐(︶▽︶)┌
chan looks just as adorable and soft as he did earlier in the day
and you let him curl into your arms again
as you hold him and kiss the top of his head
adfghakldfhg he's just the sweetest floofkins (*´▽`*)
lee minho
i know i’ve compared minho to a cat before
but hear me out
minho in the mornings is mildly hilarious
bc even if he’s completely curled into a ball when he falls asleep
or spooning you sweetly
or whatever other fascinating position you fall asleep in together
he ends up stretched out
with at least one arm and one leg thrown over you
snoring softly
just. like. a. cat.
and you often find yourself unable to move
bc minho’s surprisingly heavy when he’s asleep
complete deadweight (╥ᆺ╥;)
but as soon as you brush the little stray hairs from his forehead
and kiss his shoulder
he stirs and groans a little, just settling deeper into the mattress
….which means more snugly onto you
heCk (¬_¬;)
so you wriggle around a little more
and finally manage to get your leg free from underneath of minho’s
as usual, you climb on top of minho and sit squarely on top of him
………
and start tickling him (≧◡≦)
THAT definitely wakes minho up
his lips poke out a little in a pout, all of their own accord
but he can’t really do anything about the fact that you’re tickling him
bc you’re sitting right on his hips, pinning him to the bed
the ~intimacy~ of the position, despite the fact that you’re tickling him, is not lost on either of you
and, being the little shit that he is, minho bucks his hips up once or twice
you just give him a mock glare and say “bad kitty”
before tickling him with renewed enthusiasm
(not to mention giving him little kisses on the neck and teasing ones on the ear)
once his ribs start to hurt from laughing,
minho just pulls you into a deep kiss
and you both relax
you love how sweet he is in the morning
nothing is hurried nor desperate
bc all minho wants to do is softly show you how much he loves you
you share little, soft touches that nonetheless feel like the most important things in the world
seo changbin
changbin’s arms around you is the best thing in the world
you’re barely awake and everything is blissful softness
if your feelings and the atmosphere could be described as a color,
it would be peach~
golden and warm, with just a hint of sweetness ;)
you snuggle into changbin’s chest, nestling your hips more closely with his
and you get a little kiss on the head
changbin is calm and cuddly in the mornings
and all he wants to do is hold you
sometimes you’ll end up with him closer than skin-to-skin
but it’s honestly more for comfort than anything else
how can he resist yet another way to be closer to you and cozy?
after awhile, you turn over slightly and kiss the underside of his chin
he giggle softly
……he’s a bit like totoro:
comfy
definitely a little magical
((yes, i’m still on my “changbin is a shapeshifting crow” agenda))
and just A Good BeanTM
(♡‿♡) (♡‿♡) (♡‿♡)
you scoot up onto the pillow a bit so you’re face-to-face
changbin just murmurs “hey baby” and gives you a lil kiss on the lips
his lips are so soft you feel like you’re going to melt
he makes sure to pull the blankets back over your shoulders so you aren’t cold
and he rubs your back in slow circles
tension you didn’t even know you were holding releases under his touch
and changbin’s hand drifts to your hip to hold you to him
you tangle your legs together
and he somehow pulls you closer
you’re really not sure how he manages it
but changbin can hold you and cuddle you so closely that you feel like you’re going to merge into one person
there’s nothing sexy about it or anything
it’s just that the warm, safe feeling you get is so amazing
neither of you are anywhere near fully awake
and drift in and out of sleep, sometimes shifting to a more comfortable position
when you finally wake, changbin is still sleeping soundly
you take the opportunity to stare at him
his hair is mussed (a bit wildly)
and he has the first little bits of stubble coming down from his sideburns
a little smile adorns his mouth, as if he’s dreaming about something lovely
((you. he’s dreaming about you :3 ))
you slip your arm up to stroke changbin’s face
your thumb passes over the rounded plane of his cheekbone
and, even in sleep, he leans into your touch
after a few more moments, you lightly kiss him awake
hwang hyunjin
you’d expect hyunjin to be a complete mess in the mornings
but he’s not
he’s actually organized
oh and since his hair can get aaaaaall over the place
he always makes sure to braid it out of the way at night
so in the mornings, little wisps of hair stick out from their appointed places
one of your morning habits is to delicately tuck those wisps of hair back into place
on the weekends, hyunjin is
so! excited!! to!!! cuddle!!!! you!!!!! ☆*:.。.o(≧▽≦)o.。.:*☆
and loves kinda pouncing on you as soon as your eyes open
kisses you all over
and rolls the two of you around on the bed
and he’s just holding your hips the entire time, rubbing small circles into them
as he kisses you so damn sweetly
alkdfhgskdjfh
and if you playfully nip at his bottom lip?
he’ll just do it right back
your rolling around has turned into more too many times for you to count
and honestly, it’s kinda the best
so sweet and slow
like you’re the most precious jewel in the world
he  t a k e s  h i s  s w e e t  t i m e ( ̄~ ̄ )
and sometimes all you can do is hold on to the sheets for dear life
unless you’re supposed to meet your parents at 11 a.m.
in which case, you’d better be ready
gotta go fast, as they say~ (⊙‿⊙✿)  
but even then, mornings with hyunjin are still sweeter than caramel
his normally plump lips are even more so when he’s just woken up
and the way he squints his eyes against the sun?
that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen
sometimes he’s just calm in the mornings
and you lay your head on his chest
and listen to his heartbeat
as hyunjin strokes your hair and gives you a little neck massage
it’s so peaceful and you wouldn’t trade snuggling with hyunjin for the world
han jisung
does not want to get out of bed
nope
no fucking thank you \\\٩(๑`^´๑)۶////
there really should be a sign on his door or bed like
WARNING: Do Not Try to Remove Squirrel from Natural Habitat!!!!!
secondary warning: squirrel may bite if forcibly removed from natural habitat
he will cling to you better than an octopus
alkjdhgadlkfjghadfkgjl
jisung nuzzles into your neck like there’s no tomorrow
and the loose strands of hair falling around his face tickle your skin a little
instead of kissing your neck over and over,
jisung just kinda pouts and keeps his lips lightly against your skin
it’s really sweet hhhhhh (o´▽`o)
if he’s ~ in the mood ~ be prepared for WhiningTM
and for your pajamas to disappear faster than chan’s ears turn red when he’s embarrassed
is it gonna be fast? slow? who knows! (・_・ )
let the fates decide and just go with it
bc either way, you’re going to need to change the sheets and take a shower
you may also find yourself turned into a burrito one morning
bc jisung loves all the blankets
and thinks you’re cute as hell all rolled up in them
…..like a burrito 。・゚(゚⊃ω⊂゚)゚・。
and he will immediately lay down on top of you, the burrito, and begin to munch
and by munch i mean kiss you so thoroughly you’ll barely remember your name
he only gets like that if he’s been awake for at least an hour
hhhhhhhh
so when he first opens his eyes, rubbing his face a little and yawning
his first inclination is to make sure you’re still there
and then he just snuggles closer, kinda tucking his head under your chin or on your shoulder
as you also wake up, you make sure to kiss his forehead and tell him you love him
it’s a little ritual almost~
you’d both miss it if you didn’t do that
and you just shift a bit so you can hold jisung even tighter,
threading your fingers through his hair
and kissing the tips of his ears, as if they have little points
you lay there together, just enjoying the warmth of not one, not two, not three, but four comfy blankets and each other
until jisung’s a bit more awake
his hair is so messy when he finally sits up
and his lips are a little dry and swollen from sleep
when he finally speaks, his voice is super husky and deeper than usual
and, frankly, you think it’s the hottest thing ever
when you’re together, he usually doesn’t wear a shirt to sleep, either
so in the morning you’re just blessed with the sight of a shirtless jisung
whose voice is at least half an octave lower and slightly gravelly
it’s just;;;
alkfhgalkdjfhgldkjfsjfhks
invariably, you end up pulling him right back down next to you and booping his nose
then kissing him
a lot
and, sometimes, you don’t get out of bed until noon
because why would you when it’s safe inside the blankets? (⌒▽⌒)♡
lee felix
wraps arms and legs (anything else he can manage but idk what) around you
bc damn it you’re there with him and you’re gonna be close!!!!
the cuddliest in the morning
but then again….will gladly wriggle down to the foot of the bed
and make you a scream
felix: softly, y/n!! don’t wake the neighbors!
y/n: how am i… supposed to- Fuck! stay quiet when you- damn it, ’lix… keep doing that!!?
*giggles from felix* (≧◡≦)
but most importantly
he literally just wants to hold you
and enjoys making you laugh by rumbling his voice in his chest
after all, it’s considerably easier to do first thing in the morning
and is quite proud of the fact that his voice is deeper in the mornings
yawns kinda loudly????
but does that slow eye and nose scrunch he does
to clear the sleep from his eyes a little
it’s the cutest thing ever
also learned the “make my significant other into a burrito” trick from jisung (-_-;)
so now you’re a burrito practically every single morning
there’s actually something comforting about being swaddled
and also like jisung
(((dear god they must share notes akhfskdhj)))
he flops down on top of you to cuddle the living daylights out of you
felix will give you all the gentle kisses in the world
definitely sings that frank sinatra song “fly me to the moon” to wake you up
before kissing each of your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and all the way up your arm before finally
finally
reaching your lips
and he just murmurs sweet nothings to you
as he kisses you every way and everywhere he knows how
felix likes to lay beside with you, hands laced together
and talk about what you’ll do together that day
bc there’s so much he wants to do with you (*¯ ³¯*)♡
and show you and cook for you
and he’s just so full of love
that he ends up bounding out of bed
and pulling you with him, even if you’re both still half-asleep
just so you can start your day together
although, you usually have to stop him from running out the door still in his pajamas
with the cutest bedhead ever
a small part of you wants to see what would happen if he went out like that
but then again…
you also want to be the only one who sees felix in such an utterly free state of being
kim seungmin
seungmin is extremely soft in the mornings
he really likes to just hold you to his chest with his cheek pressed against the top of your head
kisses your temple from time to time
and just holds you on top of him, hand pressed to the small of your back
he likes to tell you about the previous day when you’re just laying there together
and sometimes doesn’t mind if you fall back asleep while he’s talking
he actually finds it rather cute
seungmin likes to spoil you in the mornings
whatever that means to you
either food
(he’ll make you an amazing breakfast
like absolutely everything you could ever want
and probably more)
or ~ love ~
(…maybe, if you make a good case for it
does not take these things lightly ( ̄ヘ ̄) )
or giving you a massage
whatever
you do like massages tho
and seungmin’s particularly good at them
he makes sure to get lotion or body oil
and that his hands are warm
bc no one likes a massage from someone with cold hands
then just methodically massages your back
he secretly likes the little noises you make when the tension releases from your muscles (✿´ ꒳ ` )
sometimes massages turn into making love
but usually not~
mornings are for slow relaxation
no raising of heartbeats or anything else
seungmin also likes to plan out days while still cuddling in bed
and grudgingly allows you to tease him
about his bedhead
or his bleary-eyed looks at you before he’s fully awake ╥﹏╥
or how he just wouldn’t move no matter what you did during the night
it was really quite amazing
..................
seungmin tends to mumble a lot in the mornings
it’s one of the few times he’ll snuggle into you
instead of holding you
he’ll just mumble incoherently
and you’ll be just falling asleep again
when he starts talking perfectly clearly about how much he loves you
you listen, trying to memorize exactly what he says
bc there’s absolutely nothing to distract him or filter the words
and he’s just…. talking
seungmin’s voice first thing in the morning is, of course, a bit lower from sleep
and you find it unbearably attractive
especially when he’s telling you he loves you (*/ω\)。o♡
yang jeongin
kinda just slips his arm around your shoulder
kisses the top of your head
and murmurs “good morning sweetie”
before getting up quickly to brush his teeth
bc dear gods he just wants to feel clean;;;;
but!!
once he’s back, it’s time for sooooo many cuddles ( ◡‿◡ ♡)
you hadn’t necessarily fully enjoyed the experience of breakfast in bed
until you met jeongin
then, breakfast in bed on the weekends became normal!
and sometimes you’d even watch a show together
and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle
when he started working out more, you were really excited
bc it meant more squish for you to cuddle on
ajdfgsdkjfhgaklj
he’s very playful in the mornings
and, like with minho, there ends up being lots of tickling
although, with jeongin, he’s doing the tickling
he’s in love with your giggle(*♡∀♡)(*♡∀♡)
and takes every opportunity to make you laugh just so he can hear it
jeongin is the poutiest in the mornings
like if you thought jisung can pout?
then…
well, no. jisung still wins the pouting contest
but jeongin comes in a close second!!!
but not even pouting to get something or get his way
just cutely pouting for the sake of looking cute (◕‿◕✿)
alkdhgsdfkjghal
and he just squishes you so tightly to his chest
you sometimes have to remind him that
in a perfect world
you’d like to breathe
one morning when you were being squeezed
so affectionately you didn’t even know what to do
you decided to kiss his collarbones
and it was all over from there
jeongin  m e l t s  if you kiss his collarbones
and if you kiss along them,
everything in his world is even better
but then if you decide to get inventive
and maybe take a lil soft nibble or lick?
it’s all over (⌒_⌒;)
he just gets so overwhelmed with love
and tenderness hhhhh
and sighs like a dramatic Victorian lady
the moment you start
therefore:
you are so not leaving that bed for at least another two hours
jeongin likes to make sure you’re nice and comfy
at all times
when in bed bc, just like his friends have taught him:
he will treat you like an angel.。o♡
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celestialmango · 3 years
Text
Unwilling prey, homebrew humanoid mimic pred, fear play, soft vore, safe vore, fatal implied (for your party), reader insert, DnD type setting
🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭
Your heart pounds in your chest and you're gasping for breath as you lean against the cave wall and collapse, breathing hard you can help but think how stupid you were to agree to follow your group members as they wandered off from the main group and from the designated trail to explore, you're lvl ones, it's bad enough you guys got literally sucked into the campaign you were playing, DM included, then they wanted to split the party, but they wouldn't listen to you when you expressed how bad of an idea it was to explore an unknown dungeon if you split the party. Unlucky for you that had them decide that nobody was gonna pair up with you and now you're in this mess.
You had bumped into one of the DM's homebrew monster races a fucking humanoid mimic based on your DM's idea of "ok how about a mimic but this type of mimic is sexy and can be born from other races though still be full mimic but they at first they look completely normal and can shapeshift only the lower half of their body and ears with only minor changes to the appearance of their torso like if they try to turn into a fully scaled mer they're successful with their ears and tail but only get a few scales on their face and chest, and like, they take the abilities of the creatures they turn into and they can be any alignment"
And then your remember what else your dm said "I'm going to use them in vore campaign as a pred" a predator species, this is the vore campaign, what the fuck do you do now?
Your palm covers your mouth as you inhale sharply, your DM still controls certain aspects, you still have to role against the DM though they're trapped with the villain of the campaign they can still tell you when to roll and you can still tell them your role with some form of dice telepathy you don't really understand.
when the party split the DM made you make stealth checks when you entered the dungeon, you failed and as a bard the DM had you playing music which you asked if you were at least going to play well, you rolled a Nat 20 for that, and the DM told you if you lost the dice and didn't roll when you needed to you may end up screwed. the mimic ate yours. How? Well.
----
You failed a perception check and sat on the random chest you found, you heard and voice tell you it sounded nice, you react by immediately jumping off it as it opens your dice bag fell to the ground with one of the mimic's hand snatching it off the ground, their crossed arms resting on the rim of the chest and propping their chin up with a mischievous grin on their face they address you," oy, why ya stop playin?" Failing to get a response out of your stunned form they push themselves up before they toss the bag in the air a few times, they dangle the bag in front of them " ya need this aye?" You nod feeling tense, the mimic grins, opens their mouth and tossing your dice bag in their gaping maw before snapping it shut as you stare in horror at the disappearing bulge of your dice as the mimic swallows them.
"Phooo,how bout ya come n get em? Go on n reach in." they place their elbows on the rim of the chest and prop their head up their maw gaping open once more while they look at you deviously, you turn tail and run.
---
You grimace, if you don't get those dice back then...., taking a deep breath you turn around and walk back into the room, they're still waiting and grinning at you while you approach, "change ya mind?" They open their mouth again, you kneel and slowly shove your hand down their throat,their throat is relaxed, it feels like you're shoving your arm into a slimy tube lined with balloons, you reach in all the way to your shoulder you should have reached the dice by now, it's then you remember what else your DM said
"they'll have like six stomachs, and like four are bigger on the inside, 2 are not connected and are just filled with treasure n shit then there's and with the other four only 2 are digestive and the digestive ones are connected to each other and vise versa with the non-digestive ones, the top ones are stretchy and durable enough to hold a god damn chimera without much trouble but their stomach would look about half the size of what they ate because bigger on the inside and the bottom ones are like hammer space, once something is in you wouldn't even see a bulge, the friendly acting ones like to trick their targets into feeding themselves to them, only-"shit, oh fuck.
Your face goes pale and your eyes widen , you jerk your arm out to your elbow before the mimic's throat captures it in a vice grip, they grab your other arm and shove it in too gulping thickly you're pulled back in up to your shoulders, you stare at their face in terror, their eyes tell you all you need to know, they're going to eat you, there's no escape.
They grab the back of your head and shove your face into their salivating maw swallowing harshly, you're cries are muffled by the slick flesh pressed against your face, they grab your belt and pull , a sharp gulp forcing you in up to your hips, the mimic shifts their shape as they heft your kicking legs in the air giving themselves legs as they stand lifting themselves up and grasping your kicking legs in the air, they swallow and as your thighs pass their lips your hands push through a ring of flesh. Squish tight by thick muscles pulling you down you try to think of anything that might help you in this moment, a few more swallow your head enters the chamber.
Shit you can't think of anything, it's only a few more rounds before you're forced to curl up inside their gut, from the outside it looks as if they had swallowed a beach ball,you feel something hard under you and you grasp it, pulling it out from under you, you discover your dice bag, you roll to while you attempt an escape, you don't meet the DC, the only thing that escapes is air as the mimic let's out a belch loud enough to echo for several seconds.
They slap their hand on their stomach,"Ur-up, oy now, ya don really think tha would work did ya? Once I swallow something it ain't comin out easy, feel free ta keep tryin tho, ya squirmin feels great." Shit, you roll to persuade them to let you go as you struggle, kicking and pushing at their stomach wall, you tell them you didn't come in here alone, that your party will no doubt come investigate where that echo came from.
You fail once more,you can't see the wild and vicious looking grin that forms on their face, "a meal an a fight, sounds great ta me"shhiiiiit they're one of those types, you feel them move around a bit, you try to remember the last thing your dm said about the humanoid mimic's race, only, only what? "Only thing that can save you at that point is making it appealing to keep you alive as one of their many items they swallow, like give them something no one else can do" something no one else can do, the homebrew spells you chosen.
'what if I told you I had the ability to summon food and drink?' you feel them stop "I'd say ya were bullshitin me." 'but what if I can prove it?' You feel a hand slam down on your back and wince "then prove it, how bout ya summon me a beer?" 'i will need you to press a waterskin against your stomach.' "oh?" 'it's not a long range spell,' you feel them press something again their stomach and cast the spell hoping it will work through flesh, the mimic looks at the waterskin sceptically as it fills, they uncork it and lift the spout to their nose, they take a sniff and don't find anything off about the liquid so they take a swig, then proceed to down it.
You tense hearing them gulp and get ready to become drenched in alcohol...but it never happens,no drink comes raining down on you, you're confused they said a meal and a fight, you, weren't you the meal? What's going on?
"Ah, tha's some good stuff." They pat their gut, "was jus gonna take ya in for yur bounty but now I changed ma mind-" 'I have a bounty?' You interrupt, the mimic scoffs "wha ya didn know?" 'no, why do I have a bounty on me?' "oh yur serious, ya know tha group uh nobles ya pranked a tha had ya run out uh towns a while back?" 'oh them......I regret nothing...but wait, you said a fight and a meal after I told you about my party, what did you mean by that?' you ask apprehensive, "what ya think I meant?"
Oh, oh no, you shift uneasy, 'you're planning to fight and eat my companions aren't you?' "maybe I am,wha ya gonna do bout it." ....well the DM did say that it appears even if you end up dying here you can always roll-up a new character and come back as long as someone from the original group is still alive but you won't remember how you died.
'I'm in your magic damage resistant stomach, I don't think there's anything I can do except offer to summon food so you won't eat them.' they pat their bulging gut, "nice try but I ain't a bout ta give up on a fight an a squirmin meal, as fur wha I'm gonna do with ya now" you hear a groan beneath you and their gut clenches pressing down on you as you begin to slip through to the stomach connect to this one you hear them say "can na have ya givin me way, so I'll have ta swallow ya deeper."
You take a small plummet before landing in something soft and wet, you quickly cast dancing lights, you see you landed in a bunch of fabrics and other soft items, you think you see a few pillows and you have a bit more room despite being shoulder deep in fabrics and pillows, the sphincter above you looks twice your size now, damn you think, they really are bigger on the inside.
You sigh feeling a bit bad knowing you accidentally sent what is most likely a very high level mimic after your party, but hey, you did warn them splitting the party was a bad idea, you can't hear much now except the groans of their organs around you, knowing your not actually in any danger now you lift your arm out of the fabric and slam a fist against one of the fleshy walls surrounding you in frustration, their stomach jostles and you clap your hands over your ears at sound of their booming laugh "still got sum fight in ya ey? An after I made ya all nice n comfy, gave ya my bes room, could a put ya with all the gol n weapons after all." They joke, and you sigh again and rub their gut wall, "tha's better. I'm gonna enjoy having ya round,"
That sounds like they're still not going to let you go....fuck maybe you shouldn't have let them know you could be a source of free food and booze, on the other hand the nobles probably would have did you in for the embarrassment you caused them, guess you're stuck with a mimic bounty hunter, by the time they get here again from the starting point you're sure the mimic will be long gone and they won't be able to find you.
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onecanonlife · 3 years
Text
In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.
(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)
(first part) (previous part) (next part)
(word count: 4,081)
--------------------
Part Five: Niki
She has no idea what to expect from this server. It makes her a bit nervous, if she’s being entirely honest. Dream is a man with a reputation stretching between worlds, and when the letter from Wilbur first arrived, she didn’t know what to think. But she does find it easy to believe that Wilbur would take one look at a man with a position of authority and decide to cause trouble. Founding an entire country is above and beyond, even for him, but picturing it comes naturally to her. For as long as she’s known him, Wilbur has never been one to do things halfway. That’s not always a good thing, but—
You should come to see it, the letter read. It’s really something, Niki. Everyone’s worked so hard, and I’d love to show it to you.
So here she is, letter folded neatly in her breast pocket as she wanders down the wooden paths that seem to function as the server’s main thoroughfares. There’s been no one to greet her just yet, even though she’s certain her entry pinged on everyone’s communicators, if they were looking. But perhaps that’s for the better; the letter told her that Dream wouldn’t harry her, but that doesn’t mean she’s particularly eager for a meeting.
And it’s simple enough to find the nation. L’Manberg. Just a little further down the path, and there it is, just like Wilbur described to her, blackstone walls raised around it and tipped with yellow. She can see over the top from this vantage point, can pick out a few structures, a flicker of fire, and perhaps a few people moving about, though from this distance, they look more like ants. There is also a tower under construction outside of the walls, already tall but still uneven, clearly not yet finished.
She grins and picks up the pace. The entrance stands wide open, and by the time she makes it there, she’s all but jogging, and then, coming to meet her—
“Niki!” Wilbur calls, a wide, beaming smile on his face, and she laughs, barreling into him for a hug.
“Wilbur!” she says in return. “It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s so good to see you!” Wilbur exclaims. He returns her embrace eagerly, though he steps back after only a moment, resting both of his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so glad you came, Niki, I’ve got so much to show you. We’re really doing something special here.”
“I can see that,” she says. “I could see the walls from far off. They’re very impressive.”
“Oh, I know,” Wilbur says, and his eyes shine. With pride, with joy. “They’re a symbol of our freedom, of our refusal to bend under tyranny. But that’s not even the half of it. We’ve done so much here. Please, let me show you around?”
He’s already taking her by the arm, so it’s clear that it’s not really a question. Or rather, that he’s presumed her answer. But in this case, he’s presumed correctly, and he’s obviously so excited to show her this place, this place that he’s worked so hard to create, so she lets him take her on a tour. He points out some of the structures that they have—“Much better than they were before, Niki, though we’ve got plans for plenty of others.”—and takes her around the walls, and then to the stage—“We’ll have public events and such here!”—and then outside of the walls, to the tower, where he introduces her to Eret, a lovely-seeming person who’s evidently responsible for much of the construction work here. She’s certain that she’ll get along with them wonderfully. And then, back inside the walls—
“I saved the best for last,” he says, and leads her to a structure that he skipped over, a van topped with what appears to be a shape like a—hot dog? A hot dog on fire? A flaming hot dog?
“Is it a hot dog van?” she can’t help but ask.
Wilbur laughs. “Not quite,” he says, “though it does look that way, doesn’t it? It’s the camarvan, Niki, the camarvan. It’s where all of this started.” He takes her up the stairs and inside, and the interior isn’t quite what she was expecting, judging from the outside. It’s a bit grimy, a bit smoky, though nothing too difficult to breathe through. And it’s full of brewing stands, some of which are actively at work. There’s a door toward the rear, too, apparently leading to a back room of some kind, and she thinks she can make out somebody’s shadow on the wall, bobbing in the haze.
“I will fully admit,” Wilbur says, in a conspiratorial tone, “that this nation started out as an effort to get a monopoly on potions here on the SMP. A drug van, if you will. We didn’t set out to start a country, but when Dream threatened us, well. We really had no choice but to declare independence, not if we wanted to stand up for our ideals.”
A drug van. Her lips twitch up into a smile.
“And what ideals are those?” she asks.
“Freedom, of course!” he replies. “Justice! The fight against tyranny! And also a good bit of sticking it to the man. The man, in this case, being Dream.”
He gestures as he speaks, hands tracing adamant patterns in the air, and she nods along, keeping half an eye on the back room. The shadow stills, and before too long, a face pokes around into the doorway. One that she recognizes, blue eyes wide and blond hair messy, and this face is followed by another, one that she doesn’t recognize.
“Holy shit!” Tommy says, and Wilbur jerks, head turning. “You didn’t say that Niki was coming today!”
She doesn’t know Tommy very well. She’s only had the chance to meet him a few times, this kid that Wilbur all but adopted as his younger brother. She knows that he is brash, that he is loud, that he has a way of bringing all eyes to him that is entirely different from Wilbur’s brand of smooth charisma, that once he decides he wants someone’s attention, he is as persistent as a gnat that’s found an ear to buzz around. Though perhaps that’s not the most flattering of comparisons. There is some truth to it, though; Tommy, from what she can tell, often doesn’t seem to care how he leaves an impression, only that he does.
Really, she hasn’t seen enough of him to judge. But he does seem like a good kid, and in any case, he looks at Wilbur like he hung the moon. Which Niki understands very well; it’s easy to be caught up in Wilbur’s orbit.
“I didn’t know when she’d get here,” Wilbur says with a laugh. “Here, come out, both of you. Niki, you’ve met Tommy before.”
Tommy grins at her, and she can’t help but grin back. He wears the same uniform that Wilbur does, an antiquated long blue coat and a tricorne hat, and it fits him well. He seems to be at ease in it, in an outfit clearly styled for a soldier. He’s only fifteen, he knows, but in this moment, she almost mistakes him for older.
“This is Fundy,” Wilbur continues, walking over to the boys and putting his hand on the other’s shoulder, the one that she’s never met. His uniform is different, pastel-colored, and compared to Wilbur and Tommy’s, not very well-made. “He’s my son.” He smiles. “My little champion.”
Something about that timeline has to be off—Wilbur is in his mid-twenties, and this boy looks to be about Tommy’s age, perhaps even a little older. So there’s something strange about that, but perhaps he’s adopted; Wilbur has a habit of adopting things, bringing people close. Or perhaps there’s something else at work. Either way, it seems rude to press at this second, so she smiles in greeting, noting the way that the boy’s ears are twitching—fox ears. A hybrid, or perhaps a shapeshifter? That might explain the incongruities.
“It’s nice to meet you, Fundy,” she says.
“Nice to meet you too,” Fundy says. His voice is resigned, perhaps a bit sullen, and she gets the impression that there’s definitely something going on that she’s not privy to. Whatever it is, though, Wilbur seems unaffected, as he keeps his hand on Fundy’s shoulder, still smiling.
“Fundy was the first citizen of L’Manberg,” he says. “He was born right here, inside the walls. A bit before they were constructed, of course, but it still counts.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard the story,” Tommy jumps in, and she doesn’t think she mistakes the look of relief that flashes across Fundy’s face as Wilbur turns his attention elsewhere. She fidgets, shifting her weight between her feet.
“Well, Niki hasn’t—” Wil starts, but Fundy cuts in.
“And it was great to meet her,” Fundy says, looking between everyone. “Great to meet you! But I’ve actually got something to do elsewhere, so I’m just going to go and do that. Right now, actually. So, I’ll catch you later!” He ducks out from under Wilbur’s grasp, heading for the door. “You coming, Tommy?”
“Be there in a second,” Tommy says. “I’ll just tidy up in there and meet you in a bit, yeah?”
Fundy nods, and then he’s out the door. Wilbur stares after him fondly, and Tommy takes the opportunity to grin at her again—and is it just her, or does that smile seem strained, now?—and he ducks back into the room that he came out of. A second later, there is a clattering sound, glass clinking together repeatedly.
“It’s all for him, really,” Wilbur says, voice soft. “The walls, this country, all of it. Him and everyone, but—it’s all so they can be safe and free. That’s all I want.”
“It’s a good goal,” she says, and his attention finally turns back to her. “It looks to me like you’ve made a great start.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, and leans against one of the counters, between two of the brewing stands. “This means a lot to me. This nation, it’s like—a second child, sort of. I’ve got to give everything I can to make it as good as it can be. I really do mean it when I say that it stands for something. Something important.” He pauses, tilting his head. “I am thinking about holding an election, though. Just a little something to consolidate power, nothing big. But I need the authority to guide L’Manberg to its future. Because I’ll tell you, Niki, that future is looking bright.”
She tilts her head, too, mirroring him. “Would there even be anyone to run against you?” she asks. Consolidating power. That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing that an election would help very much with.
He chuckles. “Not that I can think of. That’s sort of the beauty of it,” he says, and then, suddenly, Tommy emerges from the room again. He’s got a couple of potions cradled under his arm, shimmering with a pink glow.
“Wilbur,” he says, and Niki blinks, because his tone is a far cry from a few moments ago, is low and serious in a way she’s not certain she’s ever heard from the boy. “If you’re serious about the election thing, you’ve got to be careful with it.”
It’s an odd response to an offhand comment, and obviously, Wilbur agrees, as he arches a brow, regarding Tommy with a bit of confusion. “What are you on about now?” he asks, gently exasperated.
“It’s easy for things like that to go wrong,” Tommy states. “It might not—it might not go how you’re expecting it to go, you know? So, I think you should open it up so that anyone can run, so that way, when you win, nobody doubts the results and all. But—but Wilbur, here’s the thing, you can’t—I need you to promise me that you won’t invite Schlatt to the server, alright? Don’t have him come and endorse you, don’t even let him step foot in L’Manberg. Don’t have him come here, okay?”
It’s not a name she recognizes. But Wilbur seems to, because he wrinkles his nose.
“Why the hell would I have Schlatt come here?” he says. “Dream banned him anyway, don’t you remember?”
“I know, I know, just, just don’t, okay?” Tommy takes another step closer. His shoulders are tense. “Wilbur, I’m serious about this.”
“Alright, I won’t, I promise,” Wil says, and immediately, Tommy relaxes. There is still a look in his eyes, though, a look of wariness, and the sample size she’s drawing from is small but she thinks it’s still safe to say that she’s never seen him direct that expression at Wilbur before. “Tommy, why—”
“I’m going to go catch up with Fundy now,” Tommy says. “See you later, Wilbur. And Niki, you too. It’s—really good to see you, Niki. I’m glad you’re here.”
The earnestness in his voice catches her off guard. He sounds completely genuine, genuine in a way that she doesn’t really expect from someone like TommyInnit. Because Tommy is loud and Tommy is brash, but she has never known him to be so open. But then again, she doesn’t know him that well. She needs to keep reminding herself of that, needs to keep reminding herself that everyone has depths to them, no matter how uncomplicated they might seem on the surface. She deals with people making snap judgments about her too often to do the same to someone else.
“I’m glad to be here, too,” she says, and then, Tommy is gone, the door to the camarvan swinging shut behind him. She can already hear him calling out for Fundy, and someone named Tubbo, his volume cranked back up to an eleven, like the previous minute or so never happened at all.
Wilbur sighs suddenly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seems to sag a bit, his perfect posture deflating into something more casual, more—defeated doesn’t quite seem to be the right word, but weary, perhaps.
“He keeps doing this, Niki,” he all but moans. “He keeps saying things that don’t make any sense as if they’re the most important things in the universe.”
“Do you think he’s okay?” she asks, already struggling to find something to say that will help. But the problem is, she just doesn’t know Tommy all that well. She’d like that to change, especially if she decides that she’s here to stay. But right now, she doesn’t know enough to help, and she doesn’t like that.
“I think so,” Wil says. “I hope so. I wanted to tell you while he was still here—he gets all embarrassed whenever I bring it up, it’s hilarious, but Tommy’s the reason that we have our freedom at all. He traded a couple of his most valued possessions to Dream in exchange for L’Manberg’s autonomy. It was a real sacrifice play. I’m very proud of him. But he hasn’t been quite the same since then.” He sighs again. “I’m worried that he’s more hurt by it than he’s been letting on. I’m trying to be there for him, but it’s been—difficult, these past few weeks.” He smiles slightly, meeting her eyes. “Turns out that running a country is a lot of work. Who knew, right?”
“As long as you’re trying your best, I’m sure he appreciates that,” she says. “And I’m sure he’s got other friends as well that he can turn to, right?”
“He does,” Wil says, frustration leaking into his tone, “he does, I know he does, but—I’m supposed to be looking after him, right? We’re like family. Like brothers, pretty much. And the older brother is supposed to look out for the younger. That’s the job.” He leans back further, crossing one leg over the other, and Niki is struck, suddenly, with the idea that he looks very, very tired. There are bags under his eyes that she didn’t notice right away, but now that she’s seen them, she can’t unsee them. “But he’s being weird about it—and do you know, we’ve actually got a few new citizens because of him. There’s this guy, Quackity, and I wasn’t going to let him join, but Tommy kept at me until I gave in. And then just the other day, I went to a meeting, and when I get back, it turns out that he’s snuck in another guy right under my nose. Jack Manifold. Gave him a uniform and everything. And what am I supposed to do, say no?”
Throughout, his voice becomes more and more petulant, and she pushes down the urge to laugh.
“It just sounds to me like he’s making new friends,” she says, and once again, Wilbur sighs, this time much more dramatically.
“I suppose,” he says, sounding very put upon. “I wish he’d just come to me, though.”
“I’m sure he will in time,” she says. “I don’t know him that well yet, but from what I’ve seen, he thinks the world of you. I’m sure he’ll come talk to you when he’s ready.”
Thankfully, Wilbur perks up a bit at this.
“Thanks, Niki,” he says. “You’re probably right.” He shakes his head ruefully, and then smiles. “He beat me to the punch, but I am also very glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad to be here,” she repeats. “Really, I’m glad you sent me that letter.” And then, because she can’t resist, and because his posture still seems to scream tiredness, she asks, “Are you holding up alright? With all of this? I know you said it was a lot of work.”
For a fleeting moment, a fraction of a second, his eyes widen marginally, and the expression passes so quickly that in the murk of the room, she can’t even be sure that she saw it at all.
“Just fine,” he says brightly. “It’s all worth it. L’Manberg is going to be the pinnacle of freedom and prosperity of the Dream SMP. Which actually reminds me, I have a meeting that I need to be getting to. Dream’s been more generous than I expected with border agreements, but we still don’t have everything ironed out as far as trade goes. So I’m afraid that I’m going to have to leave you.”
“Of course, I understand,” she says, and squashes the little voices that starts to murmur disappointedly. She knew from the beginning, of course, that Wilbur would likely be very busy. Still, she supposes that she just hoped she would have more of an opportunity to catch up with an old friend.
Wilbur holds the door open for her as they exit the camarvan, and then one last smile and he’s striding off toward one of the far buildings, one that looks like it might conceivably be a good place for an office. She watches him go, his back straight and strides purposeful. And then, she looks around. There’s still plenty of things to do, after all, and plenty of people she hasn’t met. So she decides to do a bit of exploring on her own.
But it’s not even ten minutes before she runs into Fundy again. He’s crouched over a pool of water, staring at the fish, though he doesn’t seem to have a rod or anything of that sort. She hesitates a moment, wondering if he would rather be alone, before deciding that if he tells her so, she’ll leave without objection.
“Hello again,” she says. “It’s Fundy, right?”
He doesn’t seem surprised that she’s there, even though she made little noise on her approach, and when he looks up at her, she sees the probable reason why; his face is now that of a fox, snout and all. A shapeshifter, then. Behind him, his tail lashes back and forth.
“Oh,” he says. “Hi! That’s me! And you’re Niki, right?”
She nods. “I was hoping to get to get to know some of the people here,” she says. “I think I might be staying.”
She doesn’t know that she’s going to say it until she does, but as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes that it was her intention all along. She needed to see the country to finalize her decision, but really, there’s not much for her where she’s living now. A quiet life, some friendly acquaintances, an empty house. Here, there are friends and a cause to believe in, and she wants to be a part of it.
To her bemusement, though, Fundy seems to wilt a little bit.
“Did Wil have to go back to work, then?” he asks, turning his attention back to the pool. His tail swishes again, perhaps in agitation, though she doesn’t know enough about fox body language to be sure.
“He said he has a meeting,” she says, somewhat hesitantly.
“He says that a lot these days,” Fundy mutters. “And when it’s not a meeting, it’s paperwork. Or construction plans. Or just a vague, general thing that makes him super busy that I don’t need to worry about or help him with, so go find something to do, Fundy. But it’s fine.”
She’s stumbled into something that she’s not equipped to be in the middle of, she thinks.
“It does seem like he’s really busy,” she tries. Maybe Fundy just needs to get this off his chest. In that case, a listening ear is something she can provide.
“I know he’s really busy,” Fundy answers. “I just wish he’d let me do something. He keeps treating me like I’m some little kid. I’m not a little kid. I know I grew up quick, or whatever, but I’m not a kid. I fought in the revolution. I even made my own uniform!”
That explains—several things. Why the uniform looks so different, so haphazard. And also why Wilbur has a son who’s nearly fully grown, if he aged on a timeline more akin to that of the creature he shifts into.
“Well then, maybe you could help me make one, too,” she says. “I might want to have one of my own, if everyone else is wearing them.” She pauses. “Do you think you could show me around a little more? Wilbur gave me a tour, but I’d like to know if he left anything out. I’m sure he showed me everything he thought was important, but that might not be everything.” She shrugs, an exasperated, what-can-you-do sort of gesture, because while she’s sure that Wilbur did, indeed show her everything that he thought was important, Wilbur can be prone to tunnel vision when he has a grand plan in mind.
And even if he truly did show her everything, there’s no harm in seeing it again.
Fundy perks up, ears standing up straight. “Yeah, that sounds like Wil,” he says. “I could do that! I’ve been around from the start, so I know all the best places.” He stands, tail moving back and forth rapidly, and that, she is willing to bet, is excitement. She falls into step with him as he starts off, and that seems to be all the invitation he needs to talk, about everything and anything, and there’s just as much about the history of what he’s showing her as there are personal anecdotes, everything from what he had for breakfast this morning to plans for a prank he wants to play on Tommy. It’s endearing, and she finds herself very engaged in the way his words tumble out.
“What do you like to do, where you’re from?” he asks her at one point.
“I like to bake a lot,” she answers. “Maybe I’ll start a bakery here.”
“That would be awesome,” he says. “We don’t have any bakeries. Would you need any help with getting it started?”
And she smiles. “I think I would like that,” she tells him.
It sounds very nice. A nice little bakery, food and sweets for everyone, in a country that she can tell has already become near and dear to her heart somewhere between Wilbur meeting her at the doors and showing her around and now this, his son, showing off his home with obvious joy and pride, just as much enthusiasm as Wilbur showed her.
She thinks she’s going to like it here very much. She thinks she already does.
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ditttiii · 4 years
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Enchanted To Meet You || 05.
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Summary:  No one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates, for that matter. Humans don't have soulmates, but shapeshifters do. What are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren't even human.
BTS is on a hiatus and ARMY thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. You believe that too, at least you did until you realised that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as Hybrids because apparently, you all are soulmates.
(Hybrid AU // Soulmate AU) (Fluff // humour // smut // angst  // eventually NSFW) (NC-18) (Ot7 x Reader) (slow burn)
banner by: @thebannershop​
series master-list 
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There is an interlude between chapter 4 and chapter 5. Read it before proceeding ahead with this. The interlude can be found in the series master-list. 
Word count: 2831
Warnings: Curse words (pg-13) (sfw for now)
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Gif credits: Btsislifeu on tenor.
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Your heart races as your hands grow sweaty and uncomfortably clammy. There were noises, coming from inside your apartment. Noises that sound an awful lot like footsteps thumping against your floor.
Footsteps.
You let that thought sink into your head for a minute. Your door was locked since you had just unlocked it, you think your windows should be closed too, so the question arises as to who is in your bedroom? And how they managed to get there.
You debate not going in, turning back and maybe asking for your neighbors’ help, but then you realize your antisocial tendencies had led to you being so distant, that your neighbors’ probably didn't know your name either. 
The realization leads to a deep, sinking feeling in your stomach. Not for the first time ever you curse your own stupidity and lack of social skills.
'This is what you get for wanting space.' You think to yourself, as you let your hand finally let go of the death grip it had on the door.
There was music, coming out of your room. You frown when you hear the loud, booming, bass thrum through the walls and out to where you are. 
'What in the world?' You think, now utterly confused. 'Did I leave the speakers on?' You question yourself. Now confused and second-guessing yourself, you put your bags down by your feet near the door and slowly put one foot inside. 
Still wary and frightened of quite possibly being attacked, or worse kidnapped and murdered, you creep and make your way inside, the door behind you wide open in case you need to make a run for it. 
Noiselessly putting one foot in front of the other, you creep in. The glaring possibility of being hit on the head and growing unconscious with a stranger in your apartment, an incentive to be stealthy.  
As you walk towards your room, you realize that you are unarmed, with virtually no weapon or object to protect yourself with. Again cursing at your stupidity internally, you roam your eyes around the room, as you try to look for something that could be used as a potential weapon. 
After a few seconds of your eyes searching over your furniture and random knick-knacks, your eyes land on a metal bull. It was a showpiece that you had bought on an impulse, when you had first signed the lease to your apartment. 
You mentally thank every deity that you can think of as you make a move to grab it. You didn't particularly like the bull per se—it's design and color now seemed more dull to you than anything else but, it was heavy and if used right would cause some significant damage. 
With a metal bull in your hand, that might or might not protect you, you make a move towards your room. 
You can hear your heart thudding in your ears, the beats so loud you are afraid the intruder can hear them too. You have half a mind to just, march in there and demand why this person had decided to break and enter into your apartment of all the ones in your complex.  
'The hell would he even steal? Not like I have anything of value.' You think annoyed, as your converse clad feet touch the old, cheap, red carpet. Your floorboards are creaky too, but after a while, you had learned to identify which were the creaky ones and avoid them. 
For the first time, you think maybe you aren't as stupid as you had initially thought. 
Snapped out of your thoughts you abruptly freeze as you realize the thumping echoing throughout your apartment had just stopped. 
'Oh, fuck no.'
Gripping the bull tighter in your hands, you try to breathe in as quietly as you can, not daring to move an inch in fear of making any noise. For the umpteenth time, you curse whoever up there was supposed to be your guardian angel. 
'Whoever you are, you need to pull your shit together, because this is just ridiculous.' You think vehemently, the string of events far too strange and moving, for your steady, boring life. 
'Okay Y/N, you can do this. Just enter in quietly and bring the bull down on their head. No mercy. You will live to see tomorrow.'
Steadying your breath, you grip your bull tight and slowly push the door to your room open with your foot as you balance your weight on the other leg.
The door creaks open, it's unoiled, rusted hinges announcing your presence. 
Your eyes rapidly flicker from one corner to the other, trying to find the intruder. Your feet stay firm but glued, still outside the bedroom in the hallway. 
Once you are sure you don't see any human-like shape in plain sight, you pause and let your eyes scan your room. Detailing and picking at things, as you try to spot the signs of someone having been in there a few seconds ago. 
From your unmade bed to your medical textbooks stacked in the corner, you don't see any glaring disturbances. Your room is small, to begin with, but with the stacks of textbooks and your desk cum nightstand pushed into a corner, there wasn't much space left. 
Certainly not enough for anyone to be able to hide without being obvious.
When your search yields no results, you frown and inch closer. Walking tentatively inside with tense muscles, ready for a jump scare and swift attack. 
However, when neither happens, you are left both relieved and confused. With furrowed and an increasingly familiar growing frown, you slowly turn into a circle, double-checking to see if you had missed something. 
'Am I being haunted?' 
The thought suddenly doesn't seem as strange as it might have before. 
"Hello? Is anybody here?" You call out, not really expecting a reply. You don't think if someone is hiding in your room, they would actually reply back, but you also don't know what to do as you move forward. 
You don't believe there's a protocol in place for what one should do if they think their home is broken into but can't find any evidence to back up their assumption. 
It's then that you register the pile of clothes lying on the floor, in the middle of the room.
'Did I leave those out?'
You question yourself as you look at the random pile of clothes. You were in a rush when you had left for shopping, so it wasn't a far-fetched possibility. 
Thinking back, you recall giving Kookie a bath—
"OHMYGOD KOOKIE!" 
You furiously curse out loud as you realize that you can't see him anywhere. The fear that had abated a little by now, coming back in full force. 
You spin on your heels and rush out to your hall. Checking all the dark corners and places your bunny could have taken residence in. 
"Kookie! Kookie! Hey baby, I am back home, where are you?" You call out hoping he'd hear you and come out from wherever he was hiding. Some part of your brain brings forward the possibility that someone might have taken him, or that you had lost him. But you tamp down the thought before it can fully form, too scared and anxious to entertain that possibility. 
You can feel the back of your eyes sting, as tears cloud your vision. But you refuse to let them fall because now was not the time. Finding Kookie was your number one priority, and everything else would simply have to wait until you find him—panic attack included. 
You double—triple, check the hall and kitchen, your apartment was small and, there weren't many places he could have used to hide, but you stubbornly check again and again. Your voice breaks as you call out to him, your desperation rising with every passing minute. 
"Dammit, Kook! Where are you!?" You wail, as your control over your tears snaps, and they slip out. Warm, wet trails of tears run down your face as you let out a choked sob. 
You don't know how—it hasn't even been a week since you had brought Kookie home, but for some reason, the thought of losing him, crushes you—makes your heart feel unbearably heavy, as it squeezes painfully in your chest. 
'Get a grip, for fucks sake! Someone could still be in the apartment, hiding—waiting, for the chance to assault you.' Some part of you berates yourself but you can't even focus on that thought. 
The only thing that you can think of is, if your baby bunny was safe or not. The endless possibilities of what could have happened to him run like a horror film through your head. Most of them you realize, end in you never seeing him again. 
You run your hands through your hair, pulling the strands back none too gently as your eyes roam the interior of your apartment again. With still no signs of Kookie anywhere, you wipe your tears with the end of your sleeve and rush to your room. 
Some part of you can feel Kookies' presence. As insane as the thought sounds to your own ears, you can sense him somewhere. It's like an unknown pull—a tug, that makes you rush back to your room. 
Hanging on to the doorframe of your bedroom with one hand, you lean on it as you try to steady your breathing. The adrenaline, and the tears, make it hard for you to breathe as you stand there and helplessly follow your instincts. 
Glancing through your room again, your gaze trails from wall to wall, before you finally see a movement from the corner of your eyes. Your gaze sharpens as your eyes fall on the pile of clothes in the middle of your bedroom floor. 
You move closer, as you see a movement again, a tiny bit wary. 
You walk closer, only to see a long, floppy ear rise from between the heap. As your eyes hone in on that ear, you all but lurch to the pile in your haste to get closer to it.
Ripping away the clothes from on top of him, your eyes land on your rabbits' hunched over the figure. His ears that were floppy now both stand straight, turning towards you as if picking up the sound of your heart beating. 
As your eyes zero in on Kookies' figure, the nauseating fear at last abates. That nagging, tugging feeling in your heart, waning with it. Your figure hunches, as all the breath leaves your body. 
You want to crouch down, cup him, hold him close and hug him, but the trembling of your hands stops you from doing any of it. Instead, you let your eyes take in his figure, as a reassurance that you had not lost him. 
The residual tears of relief continue to fall from your eyes, as your eyes shift up to the ceiling. 
Slowly loosening the tight grip your fists had formed, you throw the bull away on your bed. The thump of the impact rings in your ears as your eyes close and tears of pure, unadulterated relief continue to slip down your cheeks, leaving behind a wet trail, before dripping down onto the floor. 
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After a few seconds of breathing in and out and calming yourself away from a panic attack, you pick up Kookie and take him out onto the couch. 
Settling him there, you turn away your gaze from his at the last second. 
You don't know why, but you have a feeling that if you look into his honey-like chocolate eyes now, you will cry. Giving him a soft pat on his head, you push yourself up from the crouch you had been in and move to your room. 
With Kookie finally found and safe, your previous concern rushes to the forefront of your mind. 
'Right! Gotta check the locks.'
Moving towards the window, you pull back your curtains to check on the lock. Your eyes fall onto the latch, only to find it— 
Locked.
Just like you had thought it would be. Dropping the curtains back, you shift away and move to check all the other latches. 
For the next five minutes, you meticulously check every single window and latch in your apartment, making sure that none of them were open or loose. Once, you are finally done with your inspection, you go and shut the front door, secure in your knowledge that there was no intruder in your apartment. 
Moving to your room, you pick up the pile of clothes from the floor and start folding it to put it back into your cupboard. 
The learned, mundane motion of folding your clothes gives your fidgety hands something to do and finally, you let yourself think. 
All the doors and windows were locked shut when you came in, so there was no chance of someone sneaking into your apartment. 
'But then what about that music?' 
As you think back to the sound that you had heard when you first entered, you turn to check on your stereo, only to stumble and almost face plant onto the floor below. 
Letting out a low curse, your eyes shift to see what it was that you had stumbled upon only for your eyes to widen as you realize it was your speakers remote.  
'Aah, now I see.'
It's then that you connect the dots inside your mind.  
When you think back to it, the thumps could very well just have been Kookie hopping—stomping, around with his feet. 
'The remote was probably on the floor, and he must have switched the music system on by mistake.' Your brain rationalizes, as you bend down with a huff and pick up the remote. 
Placing everything back to where it belonged, you finally move out of the room and to the kitchen for dinner, not pausing to look at Kookie. 
You are just so tired—tired of your studies, your work, but more than anything else, you are tired of feeling like you are missing out on something. 
The feeling doesn’t make sense—you don't make sense, and it's probably just the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but you feel this bone-weary fatigue, deep in your bones, one that goes beyond the realm of just being physical.  
It's like your soul is exhausted. 
You keep feeling like something's missing, like you've finally had it, figured it out—and then it slips away, until you are left grasping at thin air. 
Putting the pan down, with a little more force than necessary, you groan—annoyed at your sudden teenage-like, angst filled thoughts.
'What in the world is wrong with me!?' 
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After dinner, you set the bed you had bought for Kookie near your own bed. You had successfully managed to lug up all your shopping bags, but the many trips up and down had left you feeling thoroughly exhausted.
With the bed in place, you move to your washroom for a warm, quick shower before bed. The weariness of a long day, making your limbs feel heavy as you move to get a pair of pajamas to change into.   
You swing by the living room before your shower only to find Kookie still munching on his dinner. His eyes twinkling, even from a distance. 
Reassured with the knowledge that he would be occupied with his food, you quickly rush to take a shower.
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Showered and dressed, you curl onto the couch beside Kookie. With your T.V softly running in the back, you let your eyes go droopy as you cuddle him closer. 
The feel of his warm, wet, tiny tongue over your cheeks makes you smile dopily. You run your hands through his fur, before they glide over to his ears—them twitching in response to your feather-light touch. 
"You Babyboo scared the living daylights out of me today," You whisper softly and push your face closer to him as the warm puffs of his short, quick breaths, hit your face like gentle caresses. 
Wrapping an arm around him, you cuddle him closer to yourself, your boy heat enveloping him like a warm cocoon. 
Lodging him under your chin and close to your chest, you drop a quick kiss on his head and giggle when his long ears tickle your chin. 
You turn to watch the TV but miss the way his eyes soften, them growing warmer and shinier as they look on at you, brimming with affection. You miss the way his entire body melts at your touch—folds between your curves, closer to your heart. 
But as you lay there, Kookie wrapped around you with his ears pressed close to your heart, your body feeling loose and your soul feeling cherished, what you don't miss is the realization that the exhausting from before is gone, and in its place is a gentle feeling of comfort, of belonging—of love. 
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Gender Fluid Incubus/Succubus Working Days 1 (Mini Series) Various X OC
[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSS Now this one is a little different Mark/Marie is a gender switching gender fluid Incubus and Succubus basically he/she can shape-shift into the opposite gender. So they are both and such and she is a self employed escort and this mini series is of him/her getting yandere clients without knowing and them all fighting over dat booty and fighting for her/him please enjoy!]
(Marie's POV) (He/she is starting off as Marie but she can switch her gender and become Mark and switch back to Marie from that!)
I got dressed in my full make up and dress. I had my first ever client today. Yes I was a virgin incubus sucubus hybrid but that all changes today. My job is an escort and the woman who hired to help a friend of hers that is a deer demon as he been way to tense. If he did not want sex I will stay a virgin for now. But if he does I was fine with loosing it as well.
Because let.me tell you..that picture, let's just say... definitely excited.
I walked out into the room only to see a man, standing rigid, like he was looking for any chance to escape. Clearly uncomfortable.
"I don't need this disgusting service. I've never had sex, not once for over 100 years- I kept certainly do not need this degeneracy now.."
I looked at him and walked over. "We do not have to have sex, Sex is just a bonus, if you want we can just go for a walk or talk." I tell him.
He jumped and turned around as I stare at him and give a small smile as he looked away before sighing and sitting down in a chair as I sat across from him.
"....so..what's your name?" I asked.
"Alastor." He says simply. "I am sorry for wasting you time."
"No it is no trouble. Actually it is a bit nice I will not be loosing my virginity for money, you are my first client!" I say smiling
He looks at me again and this time stares
I realized how odd it must be I suppose.
"Ah, I'm Marie..unless I'm in my incubus form, then I'm mark." I said as I played with my hands
"Incubus?" He asks.
"Yes I am a shapeshifter of sorts where I can turn into a male form and since I am a sucubus that makes it my incubus form." I say.
"For you to not... give into your basic needs must be a challenge." He says
I could tell he was no fan of sex..
"Well it's been difficult but....I do need to start feeding. It is what it is ya know."
I nodded my head. "Would you want to feed from me?" He asks
I stopped. I mean, I wanted to shout yes but that would DEFINITELY lead to me loosing a meal.
"I mean..yeah I'd like that.." he looked at me for a moment. Almost as if he was unsure. "..my dear, don't take this personal."
'oh no..'
"but...you're probably..to soft for my tastes."
"Soft? I-I can change my physical form."
(oh he ain't talking body..he's talking about roughing him up)
(XD)
"No no my dear." He says and stands up. "I want you to be rough with me as I am the prey and you are the predator~"
I looked at him shocked before I smiled. "Well..if that's what you want, then I'm sure, an outfit change is needed..but while I do that.." I use my tail to swipe his legs, causing him to stumble back into the bed.
"I want you to stay right here, I don't want you to move, not a single inch." I said in a stern voice as I walked out, grabbing a blood red set as I stopped, adding garters to the mix, and an easily removed housecoat as I walked out, seeing him still sprawled on the bed, not moving as I smirked.
I liked this power..
"Good deer." I said smirking as I walked over running a hand down his chest, before using my nails to rip the shirt.
"But you don't need clothes, not if you consent to give yourself to me." I said. I still need him to give consent as he seemed to think on it.
And then, he nodded as I smirked, ripping his jacket, and shirt off as I grabbed his face roughly as I force his neck to the side as I inhale.
"Oh yeah, you smell strongly of pent up sexual energy.." I mutter as I tighten my
Grip, digging my nails into his jaw. "I suppose it's my job..seeing as you clearly can't do it yourself." I mutter,dragging my nails down to his neck before grabbing a blindfold, placing it over his eyes, that smile still on his face as I bind his hands together.
"What am I going to do to you...you're pretty much at my mercy.." I said, dragging a sharp nail down the middle of his chest.
I leaned down and bit his lip harshly. "The safe word is butterscotch~" I say
"try not to scream...too much."
"scre--" I cut off his question by grabbing his small antlers.
"Did I fucking say you could talk yet?" I growl as he went quiet as I smirked and see an area of skin free of any scars, unlike other areas of his body.
"Oh..you don't have any marks here..well, that's just not okay, would you like a new mark? Do you want to have my mark carved into you little deer?" I tease, dragging my nail hard enough to scratch the surface, but not enough to cut.
He nodded his head and I smirked. "Beg for it~"He stopped at that as I smirked. This man clearly has never been in this position before, which is why I was making sure I wasn't being too mean, I don't want to cross the line of being a dominating person, and being a bitch.
Two very different things.
"..P-Please.." I stayed quiet as I wanted him to take his time. "please..add another mark to my body, please." It was..well it wasn't great, bit I assume he was from a time where it wasn't common.
"Good..you did good for your first time." I said, look, I'm being rough, but some positive reinforcement is needed. I notice his ears twitch at that as his smile seemed to widen as I smiled. I wonder what his eyes look like behind that blindfold?
I dog my nail in as I waited for a scream..but he didn't. No..he shook in pleasure.
Oh so he is a masochist which means I don't need to be as gentle. Obviously I wouldn't go causing serious injuries..mostly because I don't have the proper sheets for that yet.
I dug a bit deeper though before lifting it up to my mouth before stopping. He should see this. He should see all of it. So I rip the blindfold off, and grab his face.
"I want you to watch me Little deer." I said as I got some of his blood on my hand..and lifted it to my mouth, wrapping my tongue around my fingers as my eyes narrow. How-- he's got the most energy I've tasted..trait me leftovers..are not pretty, but even fresh, I doubt it could compare to this.
It tasted so right and delicious! I want more~!
I look at him as I still was gripping his face as I go to delve back in but stop myself. If I get too greedy..it's not going to be good. I had to keep myself in check.
I look at him before looking at the candles. They weren't ordinary candles, they were meant for people who enjoy some pain.
"So..you like pain, do you?" I ask as he was silent as I grab his throat. "I asked a question little deer, so answer!"
"Yes." He says and I smirked oh he was going to be a fun one.
I take the candle as I make sure he can't move as I hold it over him as he looked confused and was about to speak before he jumped at the feeling as I smirked letting this continue before e suddenly cried out.
"Butterscotch! Darling! Butterscotch!" I snap out of it and blow the candle out. dropping it to the ground and rushing over to him
"Do you want to stop? Are you hurt?!""
"No..No I just..I feel, odd..I've experienced with these services, it's not sexual you know..but..this feels different.." he said as I looked confused before I noticed..he was aroused.
(Alastor's POV)
I looked at her and she smiled. "This is arousal and do not worry there is nothing wrong with it." She tells me. "Just let Mama take care of you~"
(XD I regret nothing XD)
She pushed me back down as she slowly removed my pants as her nails grazed the skin of my stomach before she finally pulled them off I blushed as an erection pupped free. She then wraps her thin tail around the base.
"Don't want you to cum so soon~" She purrs. "You need your money's worth."
I grip the sheets as I was conflicted. I didn't know how I felt about this. Over 100 years and I never had a sexual desire, and yet, here I was.
"Now...let's get started little deer..I'm going to break you~" she purred as she let her housecoat fall to the ground.
I blushed darkly and she gets between my legs and bites my hip hard.
I let out a small whimper as her fangs dig into me as she pulled away. Once more she inhaled as she shuddered.
"So much pent up frustration~" she muttered as she looked at me as I looked away, finding something to distract myself as I look down..to her legs, seeing her in thigh high stockings as my face was probably all red as I let out a Shakey breath
She had a whole garter set and red panties. She then took my cock in her mouth and I gave a strangle scream of pleasure. It feel so odd. I've never experienced something like this. I yanked my arms against the handcuffs, even though I could get out of them, I didn't want to..
I let out another loud moan as she bit down.
Not completely to hrt my dick but to send jolts of pleasure! I never felt this good. My hips rock forward and she chuckles around my cock dragging her teeth,
I groaned as she left little marks as she looked up at me. "Normally I'd make you stay still." She said, her words muffled as I blushed. "But you're cute, besides...I like knowing that you can't control yourself~" she said as she flicked her tongue as she gripped my thighs as she suddenly sped up.
I groaned and continue to thrust my stomach knotting I needed to cum!
But I couldn't..I couldn't cum.
"Aw you look like you're about to burst.." she said, her tone mocking as I let out a whimper. "Can you not hold on? Do you want to cum? You'll have to beg me for it. You know that~"
And I did know that. So I begged.
"please- please just- just let me cum please!" I said as she look d at me and it was clear she wasn't fully happy with it, but she still smiled, releasing me as she pushed her head back down as I came as she grabbed my throat, completely cutting off my air supply as she pretty much sucked my cum out of me.
I gasp for air and she continued holding my neck until I was milked dry only then did she let me go. I fall down and catch my breath I swore I saw stars.
"No test yet my little fawn~ you did not get mama off yet~" she purred.
I looked at her wet dripping core as she took off the panties and smirked. Shit... I was already hard again.
[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS and we will be making this (Or already made as this is a pre written story, a full story with more plot with this idea concept) please enjoy and hope you enjoyed this too and stay sexy all of my sexy friends!]
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peachyteez · 4 years
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second chances ≫ DAY ONE, STRANGE NURSE.
as a feral wolf hybrid that was violent with all of the employees assigned to him, seonghwa was subjected to be put down. however, jiyu being the softhearted feral hybrid nurse she was, she decided to save seonghwa no matter what.
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PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.
✧ taglist: currently empty, but if you would like to be added, feel free to let me know!
✧ notes: featuring bunny!soobin because i couldn’t resist.
next。
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hybrids. half human, half animal. humans that not only possess an animal’s features and personality, but also have the ability to shapeshift into their respective animal.
owning a hybrid wasn’t something uncommon. as a matter of fact, it’s an idea actually encouraged by society. of course, there were people who take advantage of their authority over hybrids and force them into unspeakable, sometimes even illegal, acts for their own benefits or pleasures.
and jiyu despised them.
she never understood how some people have the heart to selfishly exploit their own hybrids. hybrids were practically considered humans, too, were they not? so why treat them as if they were worthless?
“jiyu!”
a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. looking up, she noticed yeonjun, one of her coworkers and deskmate, staring at her with a raised eyebrow.
“sheesh, i called your name three times and it was like i didn’t even exist!” he whined.
jiyu lightly scoffed before she continued typing up a progress report for one of the hybrids under her care. “sorry, got lost in my thought again,” she apologized. “but what’s up?”
yeonjun handed her a stack of files. “can you enter these into the system? some are new and some have to be...” he trailed off, trying to find a soft way to put it.
jiyu knew what he meant. “okay. just leave them here, i’ll get to them once i’m done with soobin’s report.”
“ah, the new bunny! how’s he doing?” yeonjun asked, seeming eager to know about the condition of the new bunny hybrid that was recently admitted into the recovery facility.
jiyu smiled as she saved the document. “he’s making progress. he spoke a little more today compared to when he first came in.”
yeonjun sat down next to jiyu. “that’s good to hear. poor guy was so timid before,” he reminisced.
jiyu took the top file and started sorting through the contents. “he was. he barely spoke a full sentence.” flipping through the contents of the file, jiyu realized it was for a hybrid that was about to be put down. “park seonghwa...” she read the name aloud.
yeonjun leaned over to take a peek. “oh, yeah. he’s under my care, but he got transferred over to the feral ward. probably has some hatred or distrust against humans since he keeps attacking the nurses that come in for his checkup,” he said.
jiyu kept silent as she looked at the picture of the wolf hybrid attached to the file. she frowned. no hybrid deserved to be put down. but alas, she didn’t have any say over the matter since upper management makes the final calls over matters like that.
“jiyu, you can go on your lunch break now,” yeonjun nudged. “it’s twelve–thirty.”
standing up, jiyu strectched her arms over her head. “just leave the files on my desk. i’ll finish entering them in when i get back,” she said before leaving the office. yeonjun hummed in acknowledgement.
jogging down the hall, she came to a halt in front of one of the hybrid’s rooms. “soobin, can i come in?” jiyu asked with a knock to the door. hearing a faint ‘come in’, she entered the code into the keypad and the door automatically opened. peeking inside, she noticed the bunny hybrid wrapped in his blanket and watching TV.
she softly chuckled before closing the door. “look what i brought for you,” she said in a sing–song voice before taking out a bread packet from her white lab coat pocket.
his ears perking at at the familiar sound of the packet crinkling, his head whipped over in her direction before making a leap with his blanket for the packet. taking it from jiyu, he softly smiled. “thank you,” he softly said before sitting back down on his bed. he opened the packet and nibbled on the pastry.
jiyu sat next to him and gently rubbed his head. “did the nurses take you outside yet?” she asked. the facility had a little field area outside for the hybrids.
soobin nodded his head. “i met a golden–retriever hybrid outside! his name was beomgyu,” soobin proudly stated. “he’s really energetic, though...” he sheepishly added.
jiyu chuckled at soobin’s newfound enthusiasm. “is that so?” she vaguely remembered yeonjun telling her about beomgyu’s endless amount of energy once he fully adjusted to the facility. “did you have fun with him?”
“yep! we made—”
before soobin could continue telling jiyu about his time outside, a loud crash echoed from down the hall, followed by a scream. startled, soobin yelped and hid under his blanket.
gently giving his a few pats, jiyu immediately got up. “i’ll be right back soobin,” she said before frantically running out of the room and towards the source of the sound.
jiyu saw an open door to one of the rooms down the hall and assumed that was where the crash came from. looking in, jiyu’s eyes widened at the scene in front of her.
a hybrid was cornering a nurse, ready to pounce. the hybrid’s back was facing towards jiyu, making it easier for her to sneak up behind him and give him an anesthetic shot. the hybrid stumbled around before falling to the ground, completely losing consciousness.
with a sigh of relief, jiyu observed the state of the room. papers, medicine bottles, and medical equipment were scattered everywhere. “what happened?” she asked the nurse as she extended a hand out to help her stand.
the nurse was slightly trembling. “i–i was g-giving him h-his weekly c-checkup and all of a sudden he just...he just...”
“he attacked?” jiyu finished for her. seeing the nurse frantically nod, she sighed before shooting the nurse a soft smile. “you can go take a break. i can take care of things in here.”
“t-thank you!” the nurse gratefully said before scurrying out of the room.
jiyu’s eyes scanned the condition of the room once more before going to look at the name plate outside next to the door. she almost choked on her spit. park seonghwa.
“well, yeonjun definitely wasn’t lying,” she mumbled to herself. she took a look at the unconscious hybrid. “now how am i suppose to get him onto the bed...”
ten minutes and a few cracked joints later, jiyu sighed in relief when she successfully hauled the wolf hybrid onto his bed. she spotted the numerous toothless plushies lined along the side and her heart melted. turning away, she started cleaning the room. while picking up and organizing the various medicine bottles, she felt her heart drop to her stomach when she heard soft growling behind her.
slowly turning around, she was met with seonghwa’s glare and bared canines. without her hearing or even noticing, the anesthetic wore off on seonghwa and he had huddled into the corner of the bed and the wall.
the most logical option she had was to slowly back out of the room and close the door, but something about seonghwa made jiyu stay rooted in her spot. the longer she looked at the growling hybrid in front of her, the more she realized how scared he looked rather than intimidating.
“you’re scared, aren’t you?” she mumbled, mainly to herself but seonghwa managed to understand with his enhanced hearing. as if to prove her wrong, he started growling louder.
jiyu realized he must’ve been nonverbal if all he’s done so far was growl at her. she slowly put her hands up. “i won’t hurt you, buddy,” she softly reassured. seonghwa’s eyes quickly flitted to the open door then back to her. she softy smiled. “no one else is going to either.”
she gestured to the toothless plushies, trying to get seonghwa to loosen up and relax. “you really like toothless, don’t you?”
seonghwa glanced down at the multiple plushies next to him. his eyes slightly softened and jiyu swore they were filled with a child–like curiosity and sparkle. she couldn’t help but chuckle, causing the hybrid’s attention to shift back onto her. fortunately, his growling stopped, but he still had a hard stare.
“will you let me clean up the rest of the room?” she asked. seonghwa didn’t say anything, but he didn’t object. as she cleaned, seonghwa’s eyes were trained on her figure, following her every move.
he was quite confused. normally, others would’ve left his room out of fear when he growls at them, yet this female stayed and even talked to him.
“there, all done!” jiyu chirped when she put the last bottle on the shelf. glancing at the clock, her eyes widnened when she realized her lunch break ended five minutes ago. “oh my god, i need to go,” she mumbled before turning to seonghwa. “it was nice meeting you, seonghwa. who knows, maybe i’ll come by again later,” she smiled before leaving the room.
seonghwa stared at the door after she closed it. she really was a strange nurse.
yeonjun weirdly stared at jiyu when she came back late. “where were you? your break ended ten minutes ago.”
jiyu bit the inside of her cheek, debating on whether or not she should tell him the truth. “would you believe me if i said i was in park seonghwa’s room?” she meekly asked.
yeonjun practically choked on air. “you were where?!” he shouted. jiyu slapped a hand over his mouth while sheepishly smiling to her other coworkers who looked over at them.
“don’t scream,” she chastised as she uncovered his mouth.
“b-but you don’t even have a scratch on you!” he resorted to whisper-shouting. “are you joking around with me?”
jiyu rolled her eyes. “no, you idiot, i’m not. i really was in there. he was about to attack a poor nurse and i just happened to hear the commotion and help out.”
yeonjun raised an eyebrow. “yet he didn’t attack you?”
“...i guess not.”
“huh, interesting. i wonder why,” yeonjun pondered. “he usually attacks everyone that comes in to check up on him...”
suddenly, a light bulb went off in her head. “transfer him to me.”
yeonjun almost fell out of his chair. “pardon?”
“i didn’t enter his put–down proposition into the system yet, so the higher ups don’t know about it. transfer him to me. plus he doesn’t attack me, so i’ll take care of him.”
yeonjun stared at her like she grew a second head. “y-you want to take park seonghwa. the violent wolf hybrid,” he said, making sure he heard her right.
“yes, yeonjun,” she deadpanned.
after a moment of hesitation and contemplating, yeonjun slowly nodded. “alright. but the moment he’s violent with you, let me know, okay?” he pulled up seonghwa’s file on his monitor. “there, i emailed seonghwa’s file to you.”
jiyu smiled. “thanks!” she cheered before turning to her computer to create an application for her new patient. 
park seonghwa; wolf hybrid.
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strangestdiary · 4 years
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under your spell | nandor the relentless
relationship: Nandor/Fem!Reader
request: Hi! Are you still taking requests? If so can I request a jealous!Nandor x reader? 
words: 2.7k
warnings: Angst, asshole dates, fluff
A/N: I feel like the jealousy isn’t really there but I hope you still like it. 
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
---
Nandor noticed there was something different about you today. Having come for his daily visit just as it went dark outside, you had only given him a hello before stalking back over to your closet to nervously comb through your clothes asking what looked better before throwing it into the steadily growing pile. You kept sighing to yourself, mumbling under your breath that you needed a little more color in your wardrobe. He found it strange how urgent you seemed to be, the sweat beading on your forehead being proof enough that you were working yourself up over something seemingly very important to you. 
Since you were Nandor’s first actual human friend in a few centuries give or take he couldn’t help but feel like he was out of the loop, confusion and curiosity pecking at the back of his head. He shifted his legs so they crossed, leaning back in your desk chair and watched as you groan yet again, running your hands over your face. 
“So what exactly is all of this about?” Nandor asked, your frenzied state leaving a tinge of worry as he watched you. Watching you take a blouse he had never seen you in before off it’s hanger with a sigh mumbling how ‘this should do’. 
You glanced over at him, noting how it would almost look like he was floating if it weren’t for the pink back of the desk chair poking out from behind him every so often when he moved from side to side idly. “Chloe set me up on a date with her friend, I sort of know him from when he would come hang out with us sometimes.” You turned back around to your closet again, kneeling down to look for a pair of shoes that would actually look decent with the shirt clutched in your hand. “This is the first actual date I’ve been on in like a year so I’m kind of freaking out if that wasn’t already noticeable.” Your tone of voice was heavy with self depreciation, a chuckle following afterwards to smooth it all down. “He’s nice though. I just hope I don’t screw it up.”
Nandor swore he almost felt his dead heart sink a little, a date? “Interesting.” Was all Nandor found himself saying, he was kind of shocked to even think of the idea of you going on a date. Sure he knew you had human friends and that you didn’t just talk to him or Nadja but it was hard to think of you going on a date with someone. Even then he couldn’t help but scowl, why would some human you barely knew be more important than him? He could offer far more than some weak mortal that your friend had paired you with. Nandor wondered just how interesting this man had to be in order for you to skip a night with himself. 
Nandor’s bitter train of thought was cut off by your voice “I hope you don’t mind. I mean I know we usually have movie nights tonight but he said that tonight was the only good night for him.” You sounded so genuinely apologetic.
Nandor shifted in the small chair as you awaited his response “It is okay. I will just ask Guillermo to watch the Pet Semeteries with me instead. You can go on your little human date.” His response was a lot more defensive than you had hoped, it made your stomach knot slightly, feeling bad for flaking on Nandor without warning. Especially since this was your designated movie night. You couldn’t help but still feel bad though like in a way you had betrayed him especially since Nandor was one of your closest friends, someone you usually told everything to.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you Nandor.” You walked over to him, his head tilting up only barely to look up at you putting on a closed smile that didn’t meet his eyes. A strange aching feeling growing in his chest, even with your promise he still couldn’t help but still feel disappointed. You were giving up your time with him for some puny human man? He wanted to hiss at the thought. 
“It is okay, I understand.” He stood from the desk chair and patted you on the bicep twice, a certain awkwardness to the gesture. “Now if you excuse me I will make my way back home, I have important things to do as well.” The tone of his voice completely betrayed what he was saying, blatantly trying to guilt you out of the date all together. 
You couldn’t help but smile up at him, feeling a distant ache of your own resting in your heart. “I’ll see you tomorrow Nandor, and to make up for skipping movie night I’ll let you pick out two movies to watch.” Before he turned his back to you and walked out the door you grabbed his hand, his cold skin comforting in your night of nervousness “I really am sorry.” 
Nandor’s eyes were on your joined hands, a certain fluttering feeling ripping through his stomach. “I- It’s okay.” His gaze lifted up to catch your eyes, a soft smile stretching across his lips before slowly releasing your hand from his own. “I will see you tomorrow.” 
----
You had finally gotten ready after Nandor left and drove to the restaurant you and Daniel were meant to meet at. This wasn’t your first time meeting him but it was the first time you had been alone with him, usually Chloe being there as well as some other friends. 
He had seemed kind and caring and like he was genuinely interested in you when Chloe was around, and according to her he had practically begged her to score this date with you. You had liked him then but when he sat himself down in front of you now, there was something different about him. The smile he gave you made your skin prick uncomfortably but you brushed it off thinking it was merely first date jitters. 
You smiled back at him, looking at him fully. “You look good.” you complimented truthful in your words, noticing how the grey button up he wore brought out the freckles sprinkling his skin. His hair was styled nicely, looking soft and fluffy. You noticed his nails were painted notably a while ago given how chipped the black coating was now, it reminded you of Laszlo for a second. 
He looked at you over the top of the menu, a brow raised in question “Thanks.” He replied with a slightly cocky tone, setting the menu down in front of him. “You look nice too.” He gestured to you.
You felt your chest swell with pride, maybe tonight would go a little better than you had previously thought. Your nervousness melted away in the moment as you glanced down at the menu. 
Though unfortunately it wasn’t long before Daniel began to show his true colors, slipping in condescending remarks and a teasing chuckle any time you would talk about something you were interested in, only to cut you off to talk about him more and more. You couldn’t help but sigh audibly as he droned on about his extensive research on war history, specifically the second world war, it almost made you think Colin had somehow learned how to shapeshift but you also knew that Colin had the decency to at least be a tad bit respectful. 
“So what’s your favorite film?” He asked, “Mine is probably pulp fiction. You know the way Tarantino just knows how to make a good film is just amazing.”
You shrugged your shoulders lightly, mulling over the question “I don’t know, probably something horror, it’s hard to choose.” 
Daniel groaned before shaking his head “I don’t understand why people watch that shit, I mean why do people want to get scared on purpose?” He smiled over at you, “I mean seriously it just seems stupid. I personally hate horror movies, and the gore.” He let out a sigh and shook his head again as if disgusted with even the idea of horror movies “I just don’t get how people watch that stuff without feeling sick.” 
After that it just seemed like he wouldn’t stop talking, topic after topic he dominated with his overbearing opinions. Anything you expressed interest in he would belittle, undermining them and making them seem lesser than his own, and yet he still smiled over at you as if you were supposed to be having fun. 
“How about we get outta here? I can take you back to my place.” He reached over the table to grab your hand, you instinctively pulled away from him. Disgust settling like a rock in your stomach. “Come on, don’t act like that.” He chuckled. There was something in his eyes that unsettled you more than anything that night. “I could show you a really good time.” He reached for your hand again, fingers wrapping around your wrist blunt nails biting into your skin.
You grabbed your bag, backing up in your chair feeling your eyes sting, wrenching your wrist out of his hand. “N- no that’s fine actually. I have someone who’s coming to pick me up.” You stumbled over the chair leg a little when you stood ignoring his exasperated huff before trying to convince you to sit back down. You shakily tore money from your wallet not even bothering to count it before throwing it next to your unfinished drink and rushing away from the table. 
----
You burst through the gothic Staten Island home with a sob, having held it in the whole drive to the house as a way to avoid crashing your car. Relief briefly filled you as you noticed there was nobody in the foyer to witness your much less than presentable state. With how quiet the home was you assumed nobody was even home, but either way you still rushed to Nandor’s room hoping to seek some type of solace after your disastrous night. There was a certain lightness that you felt in your heart at the thought of Nandor being there for you, a flutter in your chest. 
Once you opened the door you couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh that he was standing at his antique writing desk that you had bought him as a birthday gift just two years ago. He spun on his heels letting out a surprised gasp “Is it Halloween already?” he said before noticing it was just you. 
You let out a teary laugh sniffling grossly, Nandor did a double take before realizing the messy tears and black streaks running down your face. A certain type of rage settled over him like a shadow, who had done this to you? His kind and caring human trembling at his door. 
Nandor walked over to where you stood grabbing your hand gently and ushering you over to the small loveseat sitting in the corner of his room, more of a decorative piece than used for actual comfort. You didn’t miss the dust that picked up around the both of you as you sat down. “What creature did this to you?” There was a darkness in his voice, a threatening look washed over his features. 
“Daniel…” You spat, the night replaying in your head. For a second you had wondered if you were overreacting. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal and you were pushing it out of proportion, but you couldn’t help but feel that disgusting crawl on your skin where he had touched. He had seemed like such a nice person the other times you had met him, why was he so different now? What had changed? 
Nandor remembered now, your human date that you had been so nervous about a few hours prior. He felt one of his hands curl into a fist, a certain type of anger he couldn’t place overcoming him. Some worthless human had hurt you this badly, the pain he wished to bring this Daniel was unthinkable. 
You sniffled again wiping your nose with the back of your hand before forcing out a pitiful laugh, a painful sound to Nandor’s ears “I’m sorry for coming here… I’m probably just overreacting.” You shook your head at yourself before giving him a strained smile,. “He was just a jerk... I’m probably being stupid.” 
Nandor’s dead heart aches when hearing you speak, why were you sorry? You were clearly hurt so why did you feel so apologetic when someone else had hurt you. “It is not your place to say sorry, Y/N.” Nandor reasoned. His hand came up to cup your face, thumb raking over your stained cheek. “I am here if you wish to tell me about your date.” He almost sounded reluctant to say the word itself. 
You smiled at him a few more tears slipping from your eyes at his gentleness, a complete contrast to the other man you had tortured yourself with, but you guessed it wasn’t your fault. “He was awful.” You started “And he didn’t shut his mouth. All he did was look at me like I was a piece of meat.” You vented to Nandor for almost two hours, his attention never venturing away from you. He gripped onto every word you said, not even interrupting to say a quip of his own like usual. 
Once you were done and your second round of tears had finally dried Nandor smiled at you sweetly, his thumb caressing the top of your hand. “Well if you would like. Maybe some night I could take you on a real date.” You tensed up a little, taken by surprise yet again that night, but for a completely different reason. 
Never in your time knowing him had you ever considered the possibility of Nandor uttering words quite like that. He wanted to go on a date… with you? A human? He looked at you with such sincerity you felt your heart swell. You had suspected your feelings for Nandor for a while now but never even thought about pursuing them given how your mortality circumstances. You had always assumed he would look down on something so taboo as a vampire dating a human. 
“You look like a soul sucking ghoul just entered the room.” Nandor commented squeezing your hand in his. 
“Those exist?” You couldn’t help but ask, a laugh following. You felt winded looking into Nandor’s adoring eyes. “I didn’t even think you would be into the whole human vampire thing.” His face twisted slightly before smoothing back over.
“I wasn’t really… Not before I met you I’ve come to realize.” He said “I’m not one to judge but it wasn’t really my type of thing, but after Nadja had brought you to the house for the first time. Then when we actually became friends, well I guess my perspective began to shift.” Your stomach felt like it was doing flips, a smile coming to your lips. 
You intertwined your fingers with Nandor’s, nodding your head after considering his heavy hitting words “I would love to go on a date with you Nandor.” Your eyes were stinging once again “I mean in a way I’m sure I’ve always had feelings for you since we first met.” You confessed thinking back to the time you saw him for the first time only four years ago, your nervousness and Nadja’s encouraging words before hissing at Laszlo who assumed you were meant to be food. 
Nandor hoisted you up off the dusty loveseat with a wide smile spreading across his face “Wonderful! Let’s go.” 
“What right now?” You asked as he dragged you towards his bedroom door and down the hall to the foyer where Colin was rounding the corner. It only took a second to remember how messy you probably looked, knowing your makeup was probably ruined and stained against your cheeks. 
“Yes! There’s still three more hours until daylight!” Nandor enthused, grinning at you over his shoulder. 
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Perfume and Iron
Pairing: GeraltxJaskier
Warning: mentions of blood and near death
Not a happy ending but not sad either, so I'd say this is an ambiguous melancholy ending.
Summary: When Jaskier sees Geralt in danger, even a year after they parted, he throws himself in to save him. When he find out he wasn't killed like he fully expected, he and Geralt talk but sometimes things don't end the way we all want them to, do they?
He knew better. Of course he knew better! Numerous decades will beat understanding into you whether you want it to or not, really. Of course knowing better doesn't mean following through with that knowledge. Knowing better doesn't mean you'll sit back and let your best friend die just because he has an overwhelming death wish and you haven't seen him in over a year.
Surprisingly, as far as Jaskier was concerned, it hadn't hurt like he'd expected it too. Granted, it did feel like a hot knife was being perpetually stabbed into his stomach and then twisted, but that wasn't the all consuming agony he, quite frankly, expected of a monster's poisoned claw slicing across his abdomen. 
Geralt was looking at him with eyes wide in shock,or at least he assumed that's the look the Witcher wore, his pitch black eyes hampering his ability to read the expression. The creature lay slain at his feet, blood joining Geralt's in a somber pool. His hand sat limp at his side, his sword dragging in the dirt. His other hand clutched at a bleeding gash taking up his entire side, a vain attempt to slow it. 
Huh, wasn't that funny? Geralt never, ever looked shocked. Maybe that had changed in the year since they'd seen each other, since that horrible day on the mountain. Maybe Geralt was willing to admit he had emotions? 
Jaskier frowned when Geralt's form began to swim as his gaze went hazy. He tried to step towards the other, to clear his vision, but felt his legs give out beneath him and he gasped as suddenly he found himself on the ground. 
"Jaskier!" 
Funny, that didn't sound like Geralt, too distraught to be the Witcher. 
He tried to lift his head, to see what had suddenly taken Geralt's form but found even that was too much. Wouldn't that just be poetic? Jaskier, the White wolf's bard, died protecting a shapeshifter. He'd have laughed if he felt he could.
Strangely, he realized it no longer felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed, in fact, it didn't feel like anything. He almost swore he was floating,flying even, but that was silly, he couldn't fly!
"Jaskier! Look at me you damn idiot!"  oh… Geralt but not Geralt again. This time the tone bordered somewhere between fear and hysteria and the idea that Geralt would feel either of those about Jaskier himself was just ridiculous. 
Jaskier found himself gently rolled onto his back, or at least that's what he had to assume. The hazy brown that had filled his vision was now a hazy blue. There was a shadow blocking out some of the blue and he wanted to reach up and touch it. Maybe that would show him what had taken on the form of his old friend, he did have a ring on for just such a reveal. Bought after they parted as Geralt's warnings about creatures still echoed in his head.
"Jaskier, you have to focus on me." 
Hands cupped his cheeks, pulling his attention to the shadowed figure. Well, not so shadowed anymore, just blurry; like looking through water.
"Where'd Geralt go? What are you?"
"Where did…? Jaskier it's me. I'm right here?"
Jaskier frowned, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to focus them. Geralt not Geralt sounded so confused, more proof he wasn't Geralt. 
"No. No, see, I saw you… I saw you and thought Geralt was going to be hit by the monster again. You… Geralt… you wouldn't have been alright after another hit!"
"And you stupidly got in the way!"
"But Geralt wouldn't be upset by that! And you… you sound like you're upset. Geralt… Well, see, Geralt said his best blessing would be… would be…" that was odd, he knew what he wanted to say but the words just wouldn't slip past his tongue. In fact it felt like his mouth was filling with something… Water? He had to force himself to speak through the full feeling in his mouth.  "Would be if I was off his hands…"
Finally! That's What he wanted to say!  "I couldn't let him die! Of course… I thought you were him."
"I am hi- Jaskier it is me." 
"You can't be because… Geralt hates me!" Jaskier said. Goddess, why didn't not Geralt understand? 
"I don't… hate.." Geralt not Geralt stumbled over his words in a bizzare show of emotion. "I don't hate you Jaskier."
Jaskier let out a laugh, wet, strained and humorless. He didn't think he could laugh anymore so that was good. He could feel the… Whatever it was in his mouth, running down his chin, and he wanted so badly to reach and wipe it away, but didn't have the strength. 
"Of course you don't. But he does." 
Not Geralt didn't respond, too busy turning his attention to Jaskier's abdomen. Not Geralt moved and suddenly Jaskiers entire upper body was a lot cooler than it had been before… Oh, not Geralt had ripped his doublet and chemise off. Well damn, he'd really like this lavender one, it complimented his skin tone.
"Hey…" he said, a weak attempt at berating Not Geralt.
"Shut up Jaskier!"
Oh… well that sounded like Geralt. Maybe it was…? Jaskier tried to shake the thought from his head. He knew this wasn't his old friend but as long as they kept the form maybe he could pretend? 
The pressure on his stomach disappeared for a moment and Jaskier frowned. No.. No! He didn't want to be alone when he died! Where did not Geralt go?
Something cool was pressed to his lips and a thick, vaguely flowery tasting liquid invaded his mouth, overpowering the wet, full feeling. He swallowed instinctively and couldn't help but make a face at the flavor of perfume and iron. The cool vial was quickly pulled away and Jaskier tried to squint and see what not Geralt was doing. 
A sudden burning pain enveloped him, stemming from the slash across his abdomen, and he couldn't help but scream. It was as if the creature had slashed through him again, with claws recently dipped in flames. He could feel his back arch as if to get away from the pain but not Geralt pressed his hands to the slash and pushed Jaskier back to lay flat. 
Jaskier managed to reach up and scratch at not Geralt's arm. He wanted it to stop! What was happening? The pain was increasing and not Geralt was holding him down and… And he was hot, far too hot.
"It's a potion! It's safe for you but you have to stop thrashing!" Not Geralt snarled at him. 
"Hurts!" Jaskier managed as the pain intensified. "Stop!" He had to get away, to get the pain to stop!
"Jaskier, enough!" Not Geralt snapped and used more pressure to press Jaskier once again to the ground. There was pain in his voice, or maybe Jaskier imagined the strained tremor he heard. 
 It was getting dark again and Jaskier felt the pain begin to fade into the background, his ears filling with a rushing buzz that drowned out everything around him. Once again he couldn't focus. He let himself fall limp and closed his eyes, he couldn't see anyway.
When he opened his eyes, which was surprising in it's own right, it was to the dim light of a fire a few feet away. Right after his eyes opened, he heard rustling to his right and suddenly he could make out  a shadowed shape above him. 
"Jaskier…"
Oh… Not Geralt was still here, still sounding just this side of wrong, just a little too emotional. Jaskier closed his eyes tightly, hands clenching at his side. 
"Don't you dare pass out on me again." 
That… sounded much more like Geralt usually did. That sounded angry and exasperated and… oh so familiar. "Worked too damn hard to keep you alive."
Jaskier sighed and kept his eyes closed. This time the voice was a bit calmer, closer to worried than angry.
"Jaskier? Come on, don't pass out again…" 
There was a hand running through his hair, brushing the sweat slicked strands back and out of his face. 
“Jaskier?” 
Jaskier opened his eyes again, looking straight into worried amber. 
"There you are." Not Geralt said as he sat back and just out of Jaskier's line of sight. Before he could question it, not Geralt gently helped him sit up, and leaned the bard against his chest to anchor him. 
"Come on, sit up for me."
Jaskier frowned and struggled weakly. "Alright. You had your fun pretending to be Geralt bu-" he started, turning his upper body as best he could to look at the other.
"Pretending?" Not Geralt cut him off. "Jaskier. I'm not…" he lowered his eyes and must have caught the glint of Jaskier's ring because without another word he took the bard's wrist in his hand and lifted it to his cheek. The ring pressed into his skin and there was no burning, no anything. "See?" 
"Geralt…" Jaskier breathed quietly.
The witcher himself nodded, despite the fact it wasn't a question in Jaskier's tone. He curled himself around the other and Jaskier had the distinct sense that the witcher was unaware of doing so.
"Geralt… I hate to be the one to say this especially right now, but… why are you here?"
Geralt tensed and leaned away so quickly, a rush of breeze from the movement sent a shiver down Jaskier's back. 
"What do you mean?" Geralt asked. "You were going to die an-"
Jaskier cut him off. "I was, yes. If you do remember about the last time we parted… Well, honestly Geralt it seemed like… I mean," he looked away, "Isn't that what you asked for?" He couldn't help the hitch in his voice or breath when he spoke. "Back then, you said…"
"I know what I said!" Geralt hissed, pained and quiet. "I know what I said and how horrible it was!" Geralt looked away, expression surprisingly open.
Jaskier glanced back, brows pinched in question. 
 "I met up with Yenn about three months after we parted. She heard what I had said to you and hit me so hard I was sure she intended to kill me." Geralt explained quietly. "She might have been trying to actually…" he added as an afterthought. "Said I was the stupidest man she'd ever seen, and that was saying something. Said I'd realize what I lost when it was gone and she'd not feel any sympathy for me."
Jaskier was quiet, lowering his gaze to stare unseeing at the fire in front of them. "I was sure you didn't want to see me again." He finally whispered. "And even so I was prepared to die for you…"
Geralt was quiet as well for a few moments, long enough that Jaskier had the unusual thought that the witcher had gone mute, but the other eventually spoke
"You were prep-…Why? I was terrible to you."
"I've always been reckless. You know that." 
Geralt frowned and Jaskier glanced away again. 
"I've never known you to have a death wish." 
"You haven't known me for a while." 
"Jaskier…"
The bard flinched slightly at the tone, quietly resigned and sad. "I know…" he replied. 
"I missed you…" Geralt let his sudden declaration hang in the air, Jaskier could feel him tense when the words left his mouth. 
"What…?"
"After Yenn tried to beat sense into me, I realized she was right. I pushed you away, lost you, and I regretted it. I wanted to find you but I didn't think you'd want to see me again."
Jaskier was quiet, listening to the other with a kind of detached melancholy. How long had he waited for the other to say these things? How long had he longed for Geralt to see him, want him, miss him? He'd willingly risked his life for the other not twenty four hours before and yet… Why wasn't he ecstatic? Why wasn't he happier?
When he didn't reply Geralt let out a long breath. "Is it too late to try again?"
Jaskier lowered his eyes, the blue unfocused and glassy as he stared unseeing at the ground. 
"I... don't know." 
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flightofaqrow · 3 years
Note
1, 2, 11
headcanon talk ** accepting
1. the most recent headcanon that i’ve come up with ( published or not )
the next most recent hc was published - that qrow is uncircumcised. (sorry if nsfw wasn’t what you were looking for but at least that’s tame kjshdkf)
2. a headcanon that i’m not sure of yet
I still waffle a lot about Harbinger. Exactly when and how she came to be. How many prototypes or upgrades she had. 
qrow says to Maria “i based my weapon off of yours.” which... doesn’t actually tell us a whole lot. it would be easy to take that to mean he had a pretty big hand in it (and i do), but it could also mean he just had an idea and lots of help bringing that to life. 
But.
Harbinger is such a unique and intricate weapon compared to a lot of others, a reflection of qrow’s own complexity and tbh... shapeshifting, it must be due to having a hand in her crafting. 
I lean towards her being created as part of the preparations once the twins learned they were headed to Beacon. 
This, in itself, has a lot of implications: he’d have to know about The Grimm Reaper already, to idolize and base his weapon off of her kama prior to attending Beacon means he always knew he wanted to be a real huntsman, a hero, instead of a murderer. It means he’d have to handle most of her construction himself, to not make that influence too obvious. It means he wouldn’t have the support of the school to do so yet.
So, yes, I do favor him being more involved (and, um, still the Scarecrow with a brain, after all), I definitely headcanon that he’s actually ridiculously smart in calculus and mechanical physics, has a head for spatial awareness (how all of her pieces fit together, as well as that talent for video games). He at least engineered her himself. 
One of the things I’m uncertain about is whether he was totally on his own, or had a couple people point him in the right direction for the execution of his vision, the manufacturing part, etc. and who or what parts that would be.
Some other tidbits I haven’t been able to write up since the rest isn’t fully formed:
- Harbinger was a full longsword when qrow first came to Beacon. She hung vertically down his back and her scythe opened up much like a switchblade. I mentioned qrow winning the first Vytal tourney? The final moments came down to Misfortune (mixed with his opponent’s blow) causing the far half of Harbinger’s scythe blades to snap off. Between the opponent getting distracted and then smug about it, qrow was able to employ (for the first time) his tactic of just tossing his weapon aside and going in for the punch to claim the last bit of aura.
- Reconstructing her afterwards is when he came up with the idea to let those two halves slide against each other to allow for her more compact form. And now he also had a more vast array of supplies from Beacon to make her transitions smoother. The gears in her pivot point became more complex, so she could transform in the more systematic way we see now.
- Based on the fact she can even do the folding into herself thing - Harbinger is hollow. She’s not light by any means, but also not nearly as heavy as she looks. Like bird bones, get it?
I have so many thoughts. We haven’t even gotten to fighting style with her. More to be determined and written up eventually.
11. headcanon that is slept on
I really, really, really need to type up the full hc of his alcoholism. Uh. The super short piece of what I sleep on and don’t get to visit a lot is that he never even once tried to give up drinking prior to Vol 6. He never saw it as a problem or a barrier, and once he finally did, he stopped.
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kyber-kisses · 4 years
Text
Something More
Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: mentions of character death.
Summary: When you lose your best friend, its hard to move on. . Luckily its not the end for either of you.
A/N: So this is much shorter than my usual fics but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. feedback is greatly appreciated! Also this is a hot mess that has been sitting in my drafts for eons. . . so its probs garbage.
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It was so quiet.
The type of quiet that feels like it’s sleeping into the very marrow of your bones. The type that curls around you and is almost irritating. That type that makes you uneasy. Sure there was the light hum of the radio turned down low and the occasion sound of a page being flipped. . .but your head had blocked those out.
You were drowning. And silence was the suffocater.
With your arms folded over the top of Bobby’s desk, you rested your chin atop your hands, eyes mindlessly locked on the glass in front of it.You had been doing a lot of that lately. Getting lost in your head space. Blocking everything out.
“You keep starin any harder and you might actually melt the ice.” Bobby sighed, breaking the silence from the other side of the desk. The old hunter shifting his way through a pile of books besides him.
“Mmhmm.”
“You gonna actually have a conversation with me, or no?”
“Mmm.”
“Y/N.”
“What Bobby?” You snapped, lifting your head up to find his gaze. “What?”
“We need to talk this out.”
Slumping back in your chair you folded your arms over your chest. “Talk about what?”
Bobby let out a sigh before tossing another book to the side, his pile growing slowly. “It’s been four weeks, Y/N. You’ve barely said a word.”
“What is there to say? my best friend is six feet under and Sam has taken off to parts unknown. That about sums it up.”
“Y/N-“
You shook your head before pushing yourself out of your seat. “No. No. I ain’t having this conversation. Not now.” You didn’t give the hunter any room for more words before you were leaving the study and disappearing down the darkened hallway.
You couldn’t sit here any more. You’d been cooped up in this place for almost month, and when you did leave it was only to wander aimlessly around the junkyard. With Dean gone it felt like there was a massive hole in your life and you felt lost.
It was twenty minutes later that Bobby found you seated a the kitchen table, shoving a handful of clothes into a backpack with much more force than was actually needed.
“So, you finally leavin me too?” He sighed, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. You didn’t stop your movements, only letting out a huff.
“Bobby. . . It’s not- it’s not like that. I’m not pulling a Sam. I’ll come back.”
Bobby let out an almost amused and airy laugh. “Yeah, sure. Keep talkin like that.”
“I’m serious. I will come back. I just- I can’t sit around here anymore.” You began, pausing to zip up the pack and throw it over your shoulder.
“Alright, kid. You gotta give me more information than that.”
That was when you felt the first sting of tears collecting in the ducts of your eyes. Letting out a tired sigh you looked up at the old hunter, the exhaust and pain clear on your features. “Bobby, I don’t sleep.” You breathed, voice shaky. “I don’t eat. And it’s so quiet here. Each second I sit here, I’m just drowning in grief. I need to occupy myself with something. Even if that means hunting.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes, by myself.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
Another sigh. “You know, probably not. But I’m not gonna sit here anymore and drink myself into a stupor.” You slid your other arm through the empty strap. “It might help me work through this.”
There was silence for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Well, if that’s what you want. But promise me you’ll check in every once and awhile?”
“I will.” You promised before stepping across the old floors of the kitchen and pulling him into a quick hug. “If Sam calls, tell me.”
“Will do, Kid.”
And just like that you were giving him one last look and disappearing out the side door of the house, the dark swallowing you almost instantly.
*. *. *. *. *. *.
Three months later
Spitting the excess water out of his mouth, Dean reached for the hand towel lying untouched on Bobby’s kitchen counter, wiping his face dry.He had been back less than a day and had already been attacked by some unknown force and the man he called a father figure. Resurrection was not treating him easy to say the least.
“I’m not a demon either, Bobby.”
“Can’t be too careful.” He shrugged, setting the flask down on the closest flat surface. When he originally heard knocks on the front door now a days the only person he expected it to be was you. (Then again, you usually just walked in.)He didn't expected to see a dirt covered Dean Winchester smiling at him on his stoop.
The hunter nodded, a heavy silence falling over them as green eyes darted around the otherwise empty house, as if looking for something.
“They ain’t here.”
“What?”
“You’re looking for Sam and Y/N aren’t you?”
Tossing the towel back down, the hunter shrugged. “I mean, yeah. I guess I just expected them to be here.”
Dean had tried calling both yours and Sam’s phones when he first got topside, but there had been nothing, leaving him only with an uneasy feeling in his belly. He had missed your voice. He was hoping to hear it sooner rather than later.
“Well, I haven’t talked to Sam in months.” Bobby sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the table.
“Why the hell not?” Eyes widening, Dean sent him a bewildered look. “Bobby you shoulda been lookin after him.”
“Well excuse me. But after you. . .you know, bit it. He took off. As far as I know he’s fine.”
Dragging a hand down his face, Dean let out a deep sigh. “. . . And Y/N?”
Another shrug. “She comes by every once and awhile, she’s been burying herself in hunting.” He paused, unsure whether to fill Dean in on everything.
“What?”
“She hasn’t been doing well. She shakes it off each time she comes to visit but it’s easy to see.” Bobby explained, moving to the fridge and rifling through it for a couple of beers.
“What are you talking about?”
“After you died. . . Dean, it was like she became a husk of her former self. She didn’t talk, she barely slept. Refused to eat. It was bad.”
Dean took a deep breath, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. “And what happened?”
“One night she just packed her bag and took off. Said she couldn’t just sit around here anymore drowning in grief.”
Of course you did. Of fucking course. You never were one to sit by and just let things happen. You were similar to Dean in that aspect, choosing to instead bury yourself in work rather than face the issue head on.
“You should have stopped her.”
“Oh and done what? Acted like a damn babysitter? That would go over well.” Bobby huffed, cracking the cap off of the second beer and handing it over.
“I know, I just- she shouldn’t be alone.”
“She wanted to be, Dean. I wasn’t gonna stop her.”
“Alright, fine.”raising his hands in defeat, Dean winced. The gash from where Bobby has cut him with a knife minutes earlier stinging from the sudden movement.
Bobby let out another tired sigh before setting down his beer bottle and walking off down the hall. “I’ll get you some bandages for that.”
*. *. *. *. *. *.
Pulling into the auto-salvage after a two week long hunt, you let out a groan at the sight of another car in your usual spot.
“Dammit Bobby, another car? Seriously?”
The old man already had enough of them as it was just sitting around the place, now there was another one. . . And in your spot no less. Throwing your own vehicle into park behind it, you gathered up the groceries you had promised Bobby you would pick up and threw open the drivers door.
Your boots crunched against the dry gravel of the driveway as you made you way towards the side door into the kitchen, pocketing the keys with one hand before reaching to open the door and stepping inside.
“Alright you old man, I got those fuckin groceries you asked f—“ your words died quickly on your lips as you froze, looking up from your bags.
No. No you were imagining things. You were sleep deprived and needed food that was all.
You blinked.
Nope. He was still there. Okay. Cool, cool, cool-
Dean froze right along with you, his eyes widening as he pushed himself up from his spot leaning agasint the table. He could feel the corners of his lips turning up at the sight of you. Your flannel was tied around your waist, and your hair. . .your hair was shorter than the last time he saw you. But your eyes were still the same, bold and full of life- even if you were staring at him like he had sprouted a second head.
“Y/N.”
And then you were moving. The bags dropped from your hands and before Dean could fully register your movements you were pulling a small throwing knife out of your boot, pulling your arm back and throwing it with all the force you had before closing the space between the two of you with firm strides. He ducked quickly, the soft thunk of the blade lodging in the wall somewhere behind him being heard over scattering groceries.
“Y/N! Wait-“ his hands went up but not before your fist collided with his nose. He saw stars for a moment before his vision tried to focus once more.
“Fucking shapeshifter!”
And then he was on the ground and you were stradling his chest, fist raising again. “ damn it, Y/N! Stop, stop it’s really me!” Attempting to shield his face from your knuckles he held up his hands.
“Don’t you dare fucking use his voice!” You growled, free hand moving to his throat. “I may not have a silver knife on me right now, but that won’t stop me from choking the life out of you.”
“Would you fucking stop it! It’s me!”
“No! Dean is dead! My Dean is dead, you're just some sick imposter!”
“Good god, woman-“ Dean wheezed, hands wrapping around your wrists in attempt to pull you off.
“What the hell?”
There was a commotion from somewhere behind you and then two firm hands were forcefully yanking you off the monster. You struggled against his grip.
“Bobby, let me go! He’s a shifter, he’s a fuckin shifter!”
“No, no I already checked.” Bobby breathed, continuing to hold you back. “It’s not a shifter. It’s rally him, Y/N. It’s really Dean.”
“No-“ you struggled more, unfortunately feeling your energy start to give. “No. Deans dead. He’s dead.” You could feel the tears starting to burn as you shook your head.
“Damn it, kid. I’m tellin ya, it’s him. I did all the tests.”
There was another moment of struggle before you slowly gave up, prying yourself from Bobby’s grip. Your eyes never left Dean, who was still recovering on the floor. He wiped the blood away from his nose with the back of his hand before slowly sitting up.
“Was the choking really necessary?” Looking up at you he had hoped to find a look of relief maybe even a smile. . . Or even get a hug. But all you did was stare him down for another moment before storming off back out the side door, slamming the screen door with much more force than necessary.
“Okay. . . Wasn’t the reunion I was hopin for.” Dean groaned, pushing himself off the floor as he rubbed at his throat. “Has she always been that strong?”
“You best go find her before she comes back with a bat or something.” Bobby joked, only to get a glare from the older Winchester.
“You’d think she’s be happy to see her best friend after him being dead for four months.” Grumbling, Dean made his way towards the door, using his hip to push it open.
It didn’t take long to find you. Your back was towards him as you leaned against the trunk of one of the many cars in the auto salvage. Just beyond the yard the sun was beginning to set behind the tree line, the rays giving you an almost golden trim.
Fourty years. Forty years of being in hell, and you were the first beautiful thing he had seen since coming back. . . Even if you were for some reason mad at him. He paused in his spot for a moment, suddenly remembering how many things he had wanted to tell you before his time ran out. Things he never got the chance to.
“Is that your ugly ass car in my spot?” You spoke suddenly, not turning around to look at him.
“. . .Okay, first of all- not my car. I found it. Secondly, I didn’t know that was your spot.” Shaking his head he continued moving forward until he was siding up next to you.
Your jaw clenched as you looked back towards the horizon. You didn’t mean to be angry at him, truly. You were ecstatic that he was back. You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and tell him you missed him.
But you were angry.
Angry at him for selling his soul, angry at him for leaving without telling you. Angry at him for emotionally scarring you-
That’s when you suddenly spun and your palm connected with his cheek with a loud crack, the hunters own hand flying up to the already red welt.
“Ow! What the fuck was that for?”
“That was for dying! That was for you leaving!!” You snapped, eyes blurry with tears. “You left to go find Lilith with Sam and you didn’t tell me! You didn’t even leave me a note or anything!” Your voice cracked. “I came back from a supply run that night and found the place empty! Bobby was the only one to tell me anything! And by the time I got to where you were— you were- you-“ you stumbled on the words.
That’s when Dean felt his heart break. You were right. You had every reason be mad. He took off on the night his year ran up and he didn’t tell you. But he only did that because she didn’t want you there when it happened. He couldn’t put you through that pain.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He sighed, nodding slightly before pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I should have said something. I’m sorry for putting you through that.”
You struggled against him for a moment before giving in, practically melting into his arms. You didn’t realize how much you had missed his hugs. They were so nice. Warm. Comfortable. Safe.
“Why’d you leave like that? Why didn’t you tell me? I thought best friends were supposed to tell each other everything.” You mumbled into the fabric of his jacket, his hand smoothing over your hair as he exhaled.
“I knew what I was walking into. I didn’t want you there. I didn’t want you to see that.” He admitted, feeling you clutch him tighter.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah. Yeah I know.”
“I’m sorry for almost killing you back there.”
“its fine. . .But you do have a killer right hook by the way.” He chuckled, praying you would laugh. You didn't.
You let yourself stay in his arms for another second before pulling back to look at him. Fucking bastard. Showing up here after being dead for months and then making you go all soft again. Who did he think he was?
You raised a palm again, Dean holding up his own in defense, ready for your strike- and then he felt it tug on the collar of his shirt and was caught off guard when you pulled him to your level and pressed your lips against his. For an instant Deans brain short circuited and he found himself frozen before hesitantly kissing back. Unfortunately you pulled away much too soon for his liking.
“And what the hell was that for?”
“That was for not staying dead.” You paused. “And for being a pretty bastard who stole my heart a long time ago.” This time your words much quieter.
“What?”
“Oh you heard me you gorgeous asshole. Don’t act like you didn’t.”
This time it was Deans turn to twist his fingers into the fabric of your flannel, yanking you against his chest. His lips found yours again, this time deepening the kiss.
“And here I thought my feelings where all one sided-“ he mumbled against your lips, arm wrapping around your waist.
“Well, you thought wrong Winchester.”
And in that moment, for the first time in forty years- Dean Winchester smiled. He was home, and he was happy.
SPN Taglist:
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109 notes · View notes
sleepy-exe · 3 years
Text
Shapeshifter AU - 3
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Iwaizumi x f!reader
<< Part 2 | Part 4 >>
Summary: Y/n has a mission to complete. Iwaizumi’s friend is in town.
Word count: 3k
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Warnings:  work stress mentioned, alcohol + bar location, y/n makes bad choices (following a stranger to a second location, hanging out with the person she should probably avoid), also is kind of a creep (the creepy-ness won't last i swear), some people are drunk, including Oikawa, bless him, best boy is also best wingman, kinda, y/n refuses to put real names in her phone contacts, someone gets dumped/ghosted, Oikawa is so drunk
Not a warning but: Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer. That’s what you’re here for, right? That’s what I’m here for.
Genre: sfw (for now, 18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, potential enemies to lovers
a/n: I introduced an OC in this part, Mizuki. I hope you come to love her. As someone who kins Oikawa, I gave him my “drunk persona” for the bar scene. He’ll be normal later, I swear.
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Part 3: So We Meet Again
It was no secret among Y/n’s friends that she loved to visit the bars in downtown Osaka, but a locally owned bar in Ikuno was a favorite of hers when she wanted a change in scenery. It was small and cozy with friendly staff. Besides university students, mostly middle-aged men frequented here, but everyone seemed to mind their own business and leave her alone, as she preferred. 
Double doors closing behind her, she was met with the sounds of chatter from other patrons and classic rock playing from the sound system. The smell of alcohol was not overwhelming and someone definitely has hot wings. The dark oak counter was straight ahead, lined in front with at least a dozen matching stools with black leather on the seats, and shelves of alcohol bottles behind. Booths lined the side walls and high tables with stools were spread amongst the center.
She walked up to a part of the counter no one was occupying and waved to the bartender. A short middle-aged woman with dark hair, only slightly peppered with grey. She usually worked here when y/n visited, but she could never remember her name and felt too awkward to ask for it again.
“Hey sweetie! You haven’t been in here in awhile! I was wondering if I was gonna see you again,” the woman spoke cheerfully as she always does, “What can I get for you? Something fruity or thinking something different tonight?”
She smiled at the bartender. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she winked, “And I’m thinkin’.. strawberry vodka-Sprite.”
“Can do!” She leaned in closer with a grin, “Should I make that strong?”
She leaned in as well, grinning back, “Hmm.. Why not.”
“I’ll get right on it,” the bartender took off and got to work on the drink. She went ahead and grabbed money for the women, dropping it on the counter in front of her with a hand resting over it as she looked around the bar. Sometimes a friend or two would be here and she’d invite herself to their table, otherwise she usually just picked a stool at the counter and chatted with whoever was bartending that night.
“Here ya go, sweetie,” the woman placed a short glass in front of her and Y/n pushed the money towards her.
“Thank you,” she picked up the drink and hopped onto a stool, spinning her back to the counter as she sipped the drink; tending to be more comfortable with people watching than socializing with strangers. A table to the left was full of older gentlemen, two of them seemed to be arguing, and oh look, they have the hot wings. Some college girls were squealing over something nearby, colorful drinks on their table. She continued looking around the bar, idly sipping her vodka-Sprite, relaxing after a long day of work.
Eventually, a man’s voice caught her attention from the right corner of the bar. He has styled brown hair and seems pretty tall now that he’s standing in his booth, waving his hands around while yelling. Is he telling a story or fighting with the other guy at his table? The other guy growled something at him with a smack to one of his flailing hands.
Buzzing in her coat pocket grabbed her attention from the two. Lifting her phone she saw a text notification from a friend. Turning to face the counter once more and setting down her glass, she opened the text.
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “im so mad at him”
Mizuki’s never ending boy trouble it seems. Her taste in men usually didn’t end well for her; meaning she often had to console a sad or angry Mizuki. She brought her drink to her lips to sip at while she texted her friend.
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’:  “is that so”
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “im serious! we made plans and he ditched me”
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “AGAIN!!”
Didn’t she just say the other night that she wasn’t seeing this guy anymore? Either way, her plans are ruined and she’s not happy. She’s probably looking for someone else to hang out with tonight and vent to.
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “okay okay I’m sorry”
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “are you home?”
Someone was now standing beside y/n ordering a drink. The sudden voice next to her had her glancing up by instinct. Only to immediately snap her head back to her phone, now leaning over the counter with it. Hair falling around her face.
It’s him.
Shit.
Well this wasn’t in the plan for tonight. So much for unwinding at the bar. She’s now fully winded and on edge.
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “no I’m out. Sorry.”
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “where?”
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “in Ikuno”
Raising her head, she sees the man from outside the woods is no longer next to her. Phone buzzing once more as she takes a gulp of the vodka-Sprite.
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “ugh are you at that dive bar?”
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “its nice here. You can join me if you want”
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “no thanks”
>> From 'My Best Bitch <3': “When will you be home?”
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “i just got here.”
The bartender appeared once more and offered a refill now that her glass was pretty much empty. She nodded and thanked her.
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “what about blondie? I think he’s been dying to hang out”
Should she go see her? Probably. But Y/n’s on a spontaneous mission and her bestie was always up for a slumber party anyway, so he can help her vent and get all these negative emotions out. She looked over her shoulder to see if the man was nearby, only to catch his gaze from his spot at the table with the brunette man she determined to most likely be his friend. Neither of them are blinking and she mentally curses herself. Back to back buzzing broke her staring contest and she checked Mizuki’s messages.
>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “yeah i guess he’s free.”
>> From 'My Best Bitch <3': “He’s coming to my place.”
>> From 'My Best Bitch <3': “If you get bored you know where to find us.”
The bartender handed over a new drink and she once again immediately paid for it.
What am I going to do about this? He’s staring too much to not know, right?
I could be overthinking this.
>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “love you. Sorry your date was a dick.”
But it couldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him for now.
Once again looking over her shoulder, a new vodka-Sprite in hand, she gained some courage. Some. She could always abort the mission and was sure the nice lady behind the counter would save her if she came running. Hopping off her stool and walking toward the two men’s booth, the brunette looked her way and offered a smile.
“Hello, pretty lady,” the brunette’s smile turned smug, “What do we owe the pleasure?”
Once he spoke, the other man looked in her direction, looking a little surprised. “Hey..”
“Hey there,” looking between the men before she continued. What’s the plan here again? “Mind some extra company? I was chatting with the bartender, but she seems busy.”
“Of course! You seem harmless enough. I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he waved a hand towards the other man, “And this is Iwa-chan.”
“Iwaizumi,” Iwa-chan intercepted.
“Y/n. Are ya sure I’m not interrupting you two?”
She sat next to Iwaizumi after he shook his head, “Oikawa has been retelling a story I already know.”
Oikawa looked insulted, “I come to visit and you’re going to complain?!”
“Oh, you guys aren’t from around here?”
Plan decided. Well, half a plan. A mini plan until she figures things out later - but there needs to be a later. Find out where he lives or at least get his number in the case that he does actually know about the whole wolf thing, so she can find him if needed. Getting his number should be easy enough; if not Iwaizumi’s, then probably Oikawa’s. Because she is a pretty lady.
Thanks, Oikawa.
“Well, no, weren’t not, but he doesn’t even live in Japan anymore,” Iwaizumi pointed to his friend.
So maybe Oikawa is out.
“We grew up together in Miyagi,” Oikawa chimed in, “but I moved away to become an amazing setter in Argentina! He moved chasing dreams too.” He winked at Iwaizumi, who completely ignored it.
“You’ve always been an amazing setter,” Iwaizumi brought his beer to his lips.
“So you live in Japan still?” She asked, swirling the straw around in her drink.
He didn’t have the chance to answer before Oikawa answered for him, “Yup! But enough of that. What brings you to this place? There’s so many nicer bars and clubs in Osaka.”
“I found this place back in college. There are lots of options here, but this place is one of my favorites.”
He shot a disgusted look, “Why?”
Iwaizumi flicked a balled up straw wrapper at him, “There’s nothing wrong with this place!”
“Hate to make myself sound like an alcoholic, I swear I’m not, but I’ve never seen ya here before and I feel like I would have recognized you two if I had.” She played with a piece of hair near her face. Oikawa mouthed ‘oh’ and wiggled an eyebrow. To be fair, as pretty as he is she would have recognized him if she had seen him before.
“Funny, I think I’ve seen you around,” Iwaizumi returned his attention to his drink momentarily. Meanwhile, Oikawa was looking between the two across from him, straw between his lips.
Quietly sipping her own drink, she tried to think of some sort of reply to pick at that comment. He could have seen her here, but what if he’s referring to the parking lot outside the forest? Oikawa interrupted her thoughts before she could gather anything useful.
“So you live around here then?” She went wide eyed for a second and he immediately waved his hands in front of himself apologetically, “It sounds like you’re here enough if this is a favorite. I just figured-“
She cut him off with a chuckle. “You’re fine! And you could say I live in the area, yeah..,” she glanced at Iwaizumi, “Is it safe to guess you’re in Osaka too?”
He hesitated, “Yeah. Not too far from here.”
Good good.
“So Y/n, where are you from,” Oikawa pushed his now empty glass to the side, “Or have you always been in Osaka?”
“Ah, no. I moved here for college and stayed after graduating. I grew up in Hyogo actually,” she giggled, “Guess we all moved from home, huh? Though I didn't move as far as either of you.”
“Excuse me,” Y/n let Iwaizumi out of the booth then scoot back to take his spot. He grabbed his glass and Oikawa’s, “I’ll grab us new drinks.”
He looked at her asking if she needed anything to which she shook her head, then he took off with the empty glasses.
“So you both moved here for careers then,” Oikawa nodded towards Iwaizumi who was already halfway to the counter.
“That so?” She blinked at the fuzziness in her head. Miss bartender did indeed make her drinks stronger today. Should probably call it quits after this one if she hoped to sober up by the end of the night.
“After college he moved here to be closer to- Well, he was in Tokyo then here. But anyway, he’s an athletic trainer for the pro volleyball teams here,” Oikawa leaned in as he spoke. “Though it's too bad he won’t come to Argentina to work with my team! I do miss him.”
She gave a sincere smile, “Do you get to see him very often? That’s so far away..”
Oikawa’s grin dropped and spoke somberly, “I usually fly back home a couple times a year, and every time I come to see him.. We do talk on the phone a lot though.”
“Here,” Iwaizumi set a new cocktail in front of Oikawa, but that was the only drink he had in hand, “You weren’t talking shit about me while I was gone, were you?”
“You didn’t get yourself anything!” Oikawa complained, then went right to sipping on his straw as his friend slipped into the booth next to her.
“I’m fine for now. Maybe later.”
“Fine, Iwa-chan,” he settled back down, “Oh! It sounds like Y/n has been in Osaka longer than you. Maybe she can tell you all the fun stuff around, so you can do something other than hang with the guys and go to bars.”
Iwaizumi looked less than pleased by that statement.
She snorted, “Well, it sounds to me like we have similar hobbies. I probably don’t know anything you don’t know.”
“Really,” Iwaizumi eyed her expectantly.
“Well.. If you get tired of the lack of grass around.. Most of the area is concrete, but there’s a few tiny parks in the suburbs, and I think one downtown, or near there at least. ”
He looked at her emotionless, “Yeah? I don’t remember coming across any of those. But I have found the large forest east of here. It’s not terribly far.”
Right..
By now she was finishing off her own drink. Oikawa was going on about something that she’s pretty sure is volleyball related. Watching the men bicker, she not-so-carefully sat the glass in front of her before placing her hands on her thighs.
Iwaizumi broke his attention from Oikawa at the sound of glass clicking against wood and looked at her glass then her. “Sure you don’t want anything?”
“I’m hoping to not leave my car here tonight.” She grabbed her phone to check that Mizuki hadn’t messaged her. With the lack of notifications she figured that meant she was happy now.
>> To ‘Blondie’: “you are with Mizuki right?”
“Oh! You drive?” The bottom of Oikawa's glass hit the table hard out of excitement. Hopefully he didn’t drive here too. “What do you drive?” He’s excitable and full of questions, that’s for sure. Isn't she supposed to be the one asking all these questions?
“I do.. I have a Civic.” Playing with the straw and leftover ice in her empty cup.
>> From ‘Blondie’: “ur just now checkin???”
>> From 'Blondie': “I’m the better friend of course i showed up”
Ouch.
>> To ‘Blondie’: “i figured i just checkin”
Slumping back in the booth she was once again watching the boys talk. Oikawa is really animated.
“Are you texting your partner?” Oikawa winked, “Oh! Let me give you my number!” And he nearly knocked over his drink trying to slide his phone to her. Iwaizumi let out a string of curses as he kept the glass from falling and moved it out of the way.
Laughing, she took his phone and entered her number, going ahead and putting ‘Y/n-chan’ as the contact before sliding the phone back. “You didn’t drive here, did you?”
“Iwa-chan! Give her your phone!”
He sighed and grabbed his phone, opening the contact app before handing it to her. “He did not. We Ubered here.”
She put her number in his phone too, being sure to text herself with his phone so she would have his before handing it back.
Phone number down.
Oikawa tapped around on his phone and chugged the rest of his cocktail. A buzz from her phone followed.
>> From ‘unknown’: “seroius do u have a lover??”
She managed to half contain a laugh and save his number under ‘Oi-chan’.
“Welp! I’m going to get going. My Uber is here,” Oikawa pulled himself to his feet and smacked a hand on the table in front of Iwaizumi, “I’m going back to the hotel. Go on and keep the pretty lady company, Iwa-chan.” He kissed Iwaizumi’s head which earned him a slap followed by a friendly goodbye and promise of seeing him tomorrow. Then he gave Y/n a big smile before heading away.
Thanks, Oikawa.
Turning to Iwaizumi with a grin, “Yer friend is entertaining.”
“Yeah.. He’s a really good person and friend.”
She offered a soft smile.
“Not to rush or anything,” he started, “but is there a particular time you’re trying to get out of here by?”
“No no,” she straightened, “I had no real plans for tonight other than to chill here.”
And added, “Also didn’t plan on the bartender treating me with stronger drinks than usual either. So.. I gotta sober up before I can leave.. You were smart with the Uber.”
He chuckled, “Maybe remember that for next time.”
“Yeah yeah..”
The two chatted for a good hour, maybe longer. Iwaizumi told old stories from high school of his best friend, as well as what he was doing in Argentina now. He also spoke briefly about the volleyball teams he’s worked with as an athletic trainer. Apparently he moved to Ikuno to be closer to the team in Higashiosaka that he’s been working with the most.
Sitting there she caught the bright street lights outside the windows of the bar, though not too bright with the bar’s tinted windows. She remembered how nice it was out tonight. It would be a good night for stargazing, but with all of the lights in town it would be hard to see any stars. The best place for stargazing here is the forest..
But there is a public park north of the forest. Far from where she runs. It’s probably closed after dark, but all parks were and that never stopped her from sneaking into the forest. Though, the forest itself didn’t have open hours. Pretty sure.
Still looking out the window she started, “Hey.. The sky is really clear tonight.”
Iwaizumi glanced at her. She continued looking outside, “Obviously you can’t see stars anywhere near here.. But north of the forest pass Higashi’ there’s a park with a large clearing that would be perfect.”
He gave her an incredulous look, “You’re not saying you want to go on what, probably an hour drive to look at stars? Are you even good to drive yet?”
Humming she decided she was set on it. Plus maybe from there he’d let her drive him home. Then she'd be two for two - mini mission achieved. “..Can you drive a manual?”
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Part 4 >>
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awedbynature · 4 years
Text
A Christmas Debt
Characters: Loki x Reader
Category: Chaptered Story
Genre: Romance/ Friendship/ Love
Synopsis: The reader renders a great service to Loki unknowingly. Not used to being in anyone's debt, our favourite God of Mischief offers a strange favour in return. Will the reader trust him enough to take up the offer?
Previous Chapters: Chapter One
P. C. Pinterest
A/N: Thor's story, as recounted by Loki in this chapter, is an actual tale recorded in the Norse Mythology.
Also,
There's kind of a gift hidden within the chapter. Click the coloured text below to find out!
______________________Loki_____________________
Chapter Two
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'He did what?’
You try to shush Natasha the best you can. She is incredulous at the news. ‘Y/N, this is Loki. He has a million wiles. I don’t want you falling victim to any one of them.’
‘I know,' you sigh. ‘But it is such a tempting offer.’
Nat rolls her eyes. She has never fully trusted Loki, not even after all the missions they have served together. Loki had been vital to some of the crucial operations the Avengers have been to, and most of them have given him their grudging trust. Not her. But that’s how she is.
You take another sip of coffee. It’s almost midnight and most of the others are lounging around, stuffed with cookies and fudges and in most cases some amount of Tony's prized liquor collection. Loki is not there. Probably in his room.
Just as you're taking another sip, savouring the aroma of the richly baked beans, Wanda saunters up to the counter. She is new to all this but looks like she’s enjoying every bit of it. Wanda is closer to you in age than Pepper and Natasha. She is more like a best friend to you than a sister, unlike Nat and Pepper.
She pours herself a cup of coffee and casually throws a hand around your waist, leaning against the counter and taking in the scene before her.
‘I saw Loki go after you,' she frowns. ‘What was that about?’
At your nod, Nat tells her everything.
Her eyes widen at the mention of the offer. ‘Did he really say that?!’
You nod wearily.
Wanda puts down her cup with a decisive thump and turns to you. ‘Well, I, for one, am totally in for it!’
'Really?!’ you can see Nat rolling her eyes again.
‘Of course,' continues Wanda. ‘What’s the harm? You don’t have to worry about your siblings ribbing you at dinner anymore! Isn’t that a huge plus?’
'B-but what if they ask for details? How we met and all?’
‘Then you make up some shit. Tell them you two met on a mission, or something. It’s not like you’ve to lie to them forever. It’s just one day!’
You heave a sigh, torn between taking up and declining the offer. But the prospect of being made the butt of jokes at the dinner table holds less appeal than blatant lying on your part. In the end, Wanda wins. You give a tiny nod of acquiescence.
‘I don’t like the idea,' Nat grumbles.
Wanda huffs, rolling her eyes. ‘She’s going to be fine. Now c’mon and show me what you’re going to wear tomorrow. We need to work on that first.’
You let her drag you off to your room, all the while thinking how best to approach Loki without appearing pathetic and pitiable. It’s just for one evening, you convince yourself. After all what do you have to lose?
***
You should not have listened to Wanda. You should not have let your depressed, lonely heart dictate your decisions. With so many things happening last night, you have hardly had a moment to think if you’d be alright with this entire charade. But now, cooped up in the cab and speeding towards a possible disaster, you feel a familiar dread creeping up your limbs and settling in your stomach. All of a sudden, being the object of pity and mild ridicule seems much more bearable. You give an involuntary shiver.
‘Are you alright?’ Loki casts a concerned glance your way.
'Mmhmmm,' you choke out, hugging your arms and giving them a rub.
Loki arches an eyebrow. ‘Pardon me, Ms Y/SN, but you most definitely do not sound alright.’’
'I'm fine.’
You relapse into silence. The cab has left the city and is speeding down a suburban road now.
Your morose thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a chuckle. You turn to find Loki laughing quietly to himself. Somehow the sight of him being so relaxed and graceful irritates you.
‘Do you find this funny?’
‘No. You just suddenly reminded me of my brother,' he says, passing a hand over his face to wipe away the remnants of his grin. ‘I had that feeling of—what do you Midgardians call it—something that seems to have happened before?’
‘Deja vu?’’
'Yes. It was the only time I had seen him nervous. More nervous than a bride on her wedding day. How fitting since he was actually in a wedding dress.’
What!
He chuckles some more, as an image of his hulking brother in a short wedding dress flashes across your eyes. Despite yourself, you snort, feeling the prick of curiosity.
'Why was he dressed as a—’
‘As a bride?’ He finishes for you. ‘It’s a hilarious story.'
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‘It begins with my oaf of a brother having his precious Mjollnir stolen from him. Under mysterious circumstances.’ He winks and folds his hands behind his head.
'This happened when we were barely adults but considered ourselves grown up enough to venture out in search of adventures. One day, Thor woke up and found his hammer gone. Thor being Thor, immediately suspected me. Not that I’m saying I stole it. There was not enough evidence and so he discarded the idea eventually. But his hammer was truly gone and he was feeling helpless without it. Fearing the Allfather's wrath, he came to me for a hasty and discreet solution. I used all in my power to locate the hammer. At last we received news that the king of the ogres had stolen it and was demanding Freyja's hand in marriage as ransom.’’
'Who's Freyja?’
‘She is one like us. A goddess. She was considered the most beautiful among the Aesir for her golden hair and her deportment.’ His eyes take a faraway look, perhaps remembering his childhood friend.
'Anyway. So the ogre king was demanding something absolutely impossible for us to grant, yet the stakes were too high. What do we do? We decided to take the advice of the Gatekeeper of the Realm, wise Heimdall. He thought long and hard and decided that someone should dress up as the bride and go and retrieve the hammer. But none were brave enough to volunteer. So it finally fell on Thor to be the bride. ‘But my beard, and my figure!’ he exclaimed incredulously. Nobody heard him, poor thing. They decked him up in the finest bridal clothes and jewellery and wove flowers into his hair and put a veil over his disgruntled face—beard and all. You would not have found a more reluctant bride in the nine realms, nor a more muscular one. I was to dress as his handmaid, but that was not difficult. I could easily shapeshift into a young maid.’
By now, you are wheezing, clutching at the driver’s seat to keep yourself from toppling over. Loki cocks his head, observing you with eyes dancing with mirth, a smirk playing on his lips. He is definitely enjoying telling the story as much as you are enjoying listening to it.
'What happened next?’
'The ogres were foolish enough to believe us. They led us to the wedding banquet where Thor polished off most of the food without any help. His exuberant eating did raise suspicion and quite a few eyebrows but I managed to quell them before it got out of hand.’
'When their king announced that it was time for the wedding, they brought in Mjollnir and placed it in Thor’s lap. And the rest is history. I can assure you, none of the ogres lived long enough to tell the tale.’
Both of you dissolve into hearty chuckles. Loki heaves a sigh and instantly turns serious, ‘Please don’t tell Thor I told you this story. He’ll have my head in a platter if he finds out.’ There is a twinkle in his eyes but his face has gone back to that expressionless mask that all are used to seeing.
'You have my word,’ you reply, suddenly remembering with whom you’ve been acting chummy.
The scene outside is rapidly changing. Clusters of suburban houses and complexes have given way to long stretches of greenery. Which means you’ll be arriving any moment.
With a jolt, you realise that you had completely forgotten about your anxiety and apprehension. You feel more relaxed now, more yourself. Because of Loki. He was looking out for you. He knew you were nervous and wanted to put you at ease.
For the first time, you look at Loki in a different light. He is very much the roguish, evil, beguiling demigod that once almost destroyed an entire city, but somewhere underneath all the barbs and untruths lies a heart that still cares.
'I'm not sure this is a good idea,' you finally voice your anxiety. ‘What if they find out that this is all a lie, a pretence?’
Loki lazily crosses his legs and regards you with a piercing gaze. ‘Ms Y/Sn, perhaps you’re forgetting whom you are with. I have lied our way out of far more life-threatening situations numerous times. Thor lives because of my lies. This is nothing.’
‘What if they ask how we met and our answers do not match! I’ve watched too any sitcoms to know where that’ll lead.’
‘Then tell them the truth.’
‘Of course not! How am I supposed to tell my family that I met my apparent boyfriend after he was captured and imprisoned for masterminding the destruction of a whole city! They would rather watch me die single.’
‘Fine,’ he concedes. ‘Tell them we met during an operation.’
You fiddle with the hem of your dress, not fully convinced. Wanda had insisted on your dressing elegantly, and you had ended up borrowing one of Pepper’s gowns. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You feel like you’re dressed in borrowed feathers.
‘Don’t fret, alskling,’ he says after some time. ‘The main trick of telling a lie is confidence. People are more likely to believe a bald-faced lie over a stammering truth.’
The cab finally rolls to a stop. Heart in your throat, you look at the familiar house, the neat lawn in front now decked with Christmas decorations, the old whitewashed fence and the ancient sycamore with the tire swing still hanging. Nothing much has changed around here.
‘Allow me,' the soft, crisp words bring you back to the present. You turn to find Loki coming round to your side to hold the door open. His face has taken a softer expression, the perfect look of a man in love and happily so. Slipping in and out of façades comes to him as easily as breathing. No wonder they call him the God of Lies.
He holds out his hand, his lips drawn into a smile. ‘Come, Ms Y/Sn. Let us show them.’
Well, here goes nothing, you take a deep breath, and step out of the cab.
To be continued...
Chapter Three available now
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