#you hate it at first and you hate him. but then in his weakest place. where he has nothing he says that he always cherished and loved you

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be. 

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm. 

Not your warmth. 

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more. 

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes. 

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath. 

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive. 

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release. 

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts. 

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . . 

No. 

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.” 

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this. 

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed. 

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really. 

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will. 

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing. 

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives. 

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you. 

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom. 

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch. 

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach. 

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway. 

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face. 

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion. 

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you. 

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that? 

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone. 

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now. 

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from. 

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself. 

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it? 

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest. 

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’ 

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away. 

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch. 

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth. 

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak. 

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips. 

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer. 

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence. 

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . . 

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say. 

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here. 

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom. 

A canary in a gilded cage. 

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either. 

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be. 

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you. 

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not. 

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh. 

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting. 

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to. 

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes. 

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.” 

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives. 

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink. 

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine. 

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won. 

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right? 

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices. 

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom. 

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you. 

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins. 

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.” 

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat. 

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough. 

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him. 

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now. 

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying. 

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient. 

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in. 

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . . 

So why did he look offended by your words? 

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see. 

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion. 

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha. 

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down. 

“Not yet.” You seethed. 

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions. 

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood. 

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue. 

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses. 

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back. 

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further. 

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead. 

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him. 

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat- 

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been. 

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family. 

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting. 

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind. 

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.” 

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter- 

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing. 

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you. 

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him. 

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning. 

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.” 

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[starry-bi-sky]

this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

[kayhi808]

First Crush -12

It was an epic battle of wills, Abigail Rose vs Mama. Abby needed to go down for her nap, but she didn't want to. You understood. Today was so much fun. So many new things to see and do, but you also knew what a grump she could be when she's tired and fussy. You also knew she'd be staying up late with the fireworks and you didn't want your exhausted baby ruining it for anyone.

"Pleeease, Mama! I don't wants to. I don't wike it." Your baby's eyes fill will large tears.

"You take naps after lunch everyday. Today is no different," brushing her hair off her forehead.

"No, Mama."

You had walked off further into the picnic area, pulling a blanket out of her backpack, so she could nap outdoors and still be at the fair. "It's your choice, do you want to nap here, back at Bucky's place, or we can go straight home." Abby stomps her foot. "When you wake up from your nap, we'll go back to playing. We can do face painting. How would you like that?" Abby shakes her head & her tears start to fall. "You can be a bunny and I can be a piggy."

"NO!"

"Hey, don't yell at me Abby."

"I don't wike you!" Bucky sees you flinch at her words. She pulls away from you and runs to Bucky, "I don't wants to nap. I's not tired. Please Bucky." Her little hands swiping the tears from her chubby cheeks. Bucky looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

Sternly but quietly, "Abigail, come here. Now." Abby doesn't leave Bucky's side. "I said, now."

She cries louder, but waddles back to you. You hold her hands & tilt her chin up so she's looking at you. "I'm your Mama. Not Bucky. You listen to me. You want to get Bucky into trouble??" Bucky gives you a mischievous smile. You squint a glare back at him.

"N...no, Mama."

"If I tell you no, you don't go to someone else and ask them. I already said no. Doing that is bad."

"I's not bad girl."

You gather her onto your lap, "No, you're not a bad girl. You made a mistake, but now you know that's not a good thing to do." She sticks her thumb in her mouth & nods.

"I sowwy," she mumbles around her thumb.

Bucky walks over and lays at the edge of the blanket, "Maybe we should all take a nap." Abby gets up and lays next to Bucky on her tummy. You settle next to her, rubbing & patting her back. She's facing Bucky but after a few minutes you look at him and mouth "Is she sleeping?" He nods.

"I'm sorry she came to you like that."

"It's ok." He rolls over onto his back, looking up at the sky.

"You were going to be a sucker and cave."

Bucky chuckles, rubbing his chest, "I would have. I'd give anything for her not to look at me like that."

"My baby isn't stupid. She knew who the weakest link was," you quietly laugh. Bucky grabs a handful of grass and tossed it at you.

"You're a good mom. It doesn't look easy, but you make it look effortless." Bucky sees a tear slip from the corner of you eye, disappearing into your hairline. "Doll?"

You turn, giving him a sad smile. "Thank you. Half the time I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so scared of messing up with her and having her grow up to hate me."

Bucky jumps up & pulls you to your feet so he can hold you. "You know she didn't mean what she said. She was angry." Music from the stage is playing and he sways back & forth with you. You get in a good little cry, disguised as dancing. "She's so lucky to have you as her mom. And she adores you! You've raised a happy child."

"Except at nap time."

"Today is a one off."

Raising on tip-toe, you kiss his cheek, "Thanks, Buck."

*******

While Abby sleeps, you and Bucky enjoy a couple dances. He runs away to grab you ice cream sandwiches, saying you earned it. You both finish quickly in case Abby wakes up. It's your little secret. Natasha and Steve drop by saying they'll stay with Abby if you and Bucky wanted to enjoy the fairgrounds together. You're unsure about leaving Abby. "Doll, she's safer than anyone here. She's got Captain America and Black Widow watching over her. 30 minutes and we'll come back." Bucky grabs your hand and you let him lead you away.

You return to the midway games and challenge each other to, basketball, water guns, bean bag toss, shooting gallery, and anything you could find to compete against him. You collected your tickets so you could return with Abby to redeem them later.

Bucky picks out a pair of fairy wings for Abby. "Are you serious?"

"Does she already have a pair of wings?"

"No, but..."

"Think of how cute she'll look when she rides her unicorn later. Oh, were you going to get her wings?"

Laughing, "I didn't win that many tickets. I was going to let her choose new story books."

He wraps his arm around your neck bringing you in for a kiss. "See, perfect."

*****

Abby woke up from her nap so excited to see everyone there. Steve had gotten her some "banoons" which she loves so much. And then Bucky showed her her fairy wings and she went crazy. She had to put it on immediately! Poor Steve got one-upped again.

Throughout the afternoon, their picnic got bigger. Clint and his family joined in. Tony, Pepper and Morgan visited. Abby and Morgan became fast friends. They played in the jumper house, and rode the mini train together. They sat through getting their face painted, turning them into 2 little kittens.

After dinner, Abby wanted a dance party so you danced with your baby. Thankful this time she didn't give you instructions on how to "shake it" like before. Your little ringleader got everyone dancing. One of her favorite songs comes on and she tries to get Bucky to sing it with her but he doesn't know it . She only likes singing the chorus.

Me-e-e, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm the only one of me

Baby, that's the fun of me

Eeh-eeh-eeh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You're the only one of you

Baby, that's the fun of you

And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me-e-e

You shake your head at your 3 year old Swifty shaking her bottom so her dress swishes. She smiles up at you with so much joy. No one is going to love her like you do. She's your world.

The fireworks are about to start. Abby has only seen them on videos and TV. Pepper gave you an extra pair of earplugs for Abby. She oohs and ahhhs along with everybody else. Bucky puts her on his shoulders so she could be closer to them. She wanted to catch the sparkles in her hands.

You make you way back the the Residence. Abby is chatting non-stop about everything that happened today. It was a struggle to get her to wash the face paint off. You blamed it on Bucky. You told her that if she got his pillows all dirty he might not invite them back. She quickly consented to scrubbing her face.

Bucky offered to read her a story while you showered. When you got out of the bathroom, Abby was sound asleep. "She didn't even make it 5 pages in." You trade spots while he cleans up.

He leaves the bathroom with his wet hair, flopped over his forehead still looking handsome as ever. He sits on the couch, pulling you to straddle his lap. Your lips immediately seek his. His hands on your hips bringing you flushed against him. A soft moan escapes you both. His tongue glides across your lower lip seeking entrance. Which you eagerly grant. Your fingers threading through his hair at the nape of his neck. Your tongue teases his and his fingers creep under your shirt palming your breasts.

"Mama?!"

Bucky tosses you off him and into the corner of the couch. You laugh at his panicked expression and surprised at his strength. "Yes, baby?" You get up and go to Bucky's room. Abby's sitting up in the middle of the bed.

"This not my bed."

"We're spending the night a Bucky's house, remember?"

"Can yous sleeps wit me?" Reaching out with grabby hands. Sighing, "Of course."

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05

Bucky tucks you both in, and drops kisses on you. "We'll figure something out," he whispers in your ear. You smile and nod, pulling Abby against you as she tries to sleep.

Uncle Steve

[mikodrawnnarratives]

Have some art + fic rn cuz i had this idea plaguing me for a whlie in my first playthrough of the game and i needed to have it realized.

I don't want to edit my writing just yet so i'll do that later, but for now have some mentally unstable Siffrin 👍

I'll come up with a title ltr, prob when i edit this and post to ao3 (so if this gets reblogs just check out the og post for latest ver.)

For now the warnings you should know of are just character death, lots of Siff hating himself, and i think suicide ideation? I wrote this a few hours ago n still don't want to go back just yet but basically its nothing that doesn't already exist in the game

Fic starts under the cut! Roughly 2000 words

(edit: i forgor some colors don't exist/can't be seen 🤡, fixed now!)

Siffrin can’t seem to fall asleep at all anymore. The night right before the loops he can only pretend to get some rest before facing the king. He isn’t quite sure what the reason is. Being stuck in one place for too long? Useless? His urges to reach out for Isa’s touch that keep him awake at night, yearning for connection that is immediately are followed by disgust in himself?  The pure exhaustion at the thought of repeating the next day again? None seem to be the answer. Maybe its a combination.

He only knows that he’s exhausted. Exhausted, yet unable to rest. Even if he were able, would he want to risk what ever dream or nightmare his head might concoct? A blend of memories and deaths to remind him that he can’t escape?

Not being able to sleep makes them worse at the loops too unfortunately. They got along fine for the first few loops after his first sleepless night, though the mistakes ramped up. They cursed their body, cursed themself for being so weak. Simple and stupid mistakes getting them killed via boulder when they forgot and slip of the hand resulting in the weakest of Sadnesses offing him.

Loop of course taunted about his failures, like they always do. He couldn’t fully blame them, knowing deep down he deserved it. There was a pull he sometimes had though, to rest with them, even for just a little bit. He’s hung out with them before, when it gets overwhelming, never for very long. Despite that, to actually sleep with them is a different story. Different vulnerability that, he wasn’t comfortable with. Too weak, he didn’t need another thing for Loop to tease him about. No matter how tempting it would be to sit in the tree and doze off. He wouldn’t doubt that, if he could rest at this point, he would doze off until the next loop.

He can’t have that. He can’t let his family die again.

The next loop began, the stage set, and Siff opened his eye, despite every ache in their body telling them not too. They can’t listen to their body right now though. They need to travel the entire house in the next few loops for anything he might have missed before. One more sweep. 

He carries out his lines, plays the role he’s meant, rehearsing the other actor’s lines in his head before they speak up. Familiar steps, expressions, directions. When they get to Isabeau, they slip up again, Isa’s concern blooms. But they’ve seen this before. It’ll be fine. Their gut twists at forcing Isa to be concerned, but theres a warmth in it too. That Isa cares. Cares about them. It’s strange, when Odile gets close to the truth, stars when she FINDS OUT the truth, there isn’t any warmth. Just, fear. But knowing Isa won’t find out, just cares and makes them promise to talk about it at a time they know won’t come, it’s a guilty pleasure. At least, for now. Before it becomes meshed with all the other lines Siffrin has come to expect from The Fighter.

While navigation the House like normal, they slip up occasionally, interacting with objects that spark Odile’s concern. They don’t bother reversing the mistakes, he hasn’t slipped up that much. There’s no way she could know. Siff crumbled on the first floor at the counter they jabbed themself into again. Unable to see it and always stupidly forgetting to be cautious there. Stupid. 

And they kept making mistakes. Their exhaustion pulling at their body, their nerves eating them alive. There’s no warmth with new lines of concern from their actors. Just spikes of panic followed by their attempts to reassure them. To continue on.

By the final snack stop before the King, their actor’s change the script again. Siffrin tensed, their hand tracing the handle of their dagger in case of emergency. Odile… odile doesn’t call out suspicious connections to time craft this time. Everyone just.. Just asks him to nap.

The third floor they had fumbled the most, their quick grabs at the keys became more clumsy against his will. His hands can’t stop shaking. The aches won’t cease their whining in his body. Change, of course they noticed, they aren’t blind. The script is similar, repeating the words that simultaneously warm his body and send nausea through it. They’re a family. They care.

Absently, Siffrin notes Mira’s asking him if he’ll accept a comb, again. At least that’s familiar. At least one of them new the script to stick to. And, he really wouldn’t mind it again. The loops reset his hair back to the tangled and knotted mess it was when he startled back to awareness in Dormont. Everytime. Sometimes they briefly wondered if Mirabelle would comb their hair out back in town too. They would never ask though.

Their family quietly chated as Mirabelle combed through his hair. Gently, dare they think lovingly. Careful not to hurt him. Like he’s fragile and weak. Pathetic. They are pathetic aren’t they. For wanting this. Selfish for forcing them. Their hands continued to tremble, as much as Siff tried to suppress it.

The Fighter changes the script first. First to notice. Notice a slip up. They tense, not for any particular reason just, they don’t know this script. The Fighter’s face is concerned but softens. Isa. Isa asked hesitantly it he could see their hands. Siff let him, letting their pathetic shaking hands be engulfed in Isa’s large ones. He hesitantly rubs their knuckles, Mira continues to brush the tangles out of their hair. Siff’s eyelid got heavier, their body screaming to just let go, just relax. They haven’t reached the king yet, the head housemaid, they can’t yet. 

When they heard Odile close her book, another off script action, they jolted up and looked her way. Odile was about to speak up, but hesitated at their startled form. Her concerned and piercing expression remained.

“Siffrin, did you get any rest at all last night?”

They stop and meekly speak up, “I slept..”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Siffrin grimaced, tensing up. “I got.. Some rest. Why do you ask?”

“The fumbling around and absent performance don’t suggest you did.”

She had them there. Their fingers twitch as they internally remind themselves their dagger is still on their person. Even if their hands are occupied with being held by Isa’s. They take a breath.

The other actors contribute, sharing their nerves about facing the King. Needing to be ready before confronting the Threat, that could be their final standing place. No. No they won’t fail. They won’t die here. He might, but he won’t let his family.

Odile is actually the first to suggest Siffrin rest before they face the King. They can’t have any weak links before such a moment. Weak members. Weak. They were clumsy this loop. Their other family members share in the sentiment. They probably think he’s weak too. Their concerned smiles are hard to say no to though. The aches and exhaustion overwhelming his body probably wouldn’t let him refuse such an opportunity either. Surely. Surely they went through the first couple floors quick enough that another fifteen minutes before the king wouldn’t be too long. Right?

It’s a thought that didn’t seem to cross his family member’s faces when he gave into their requests and laid down. Mira scooted over, getting started on the next clump of tangled hair. Isa offered his lap as a pillow, and Siffrin’s slow mind just. Accepts the request. Not noting the dark shade flooding The Fighter’s face as they dragged their body to his lap, their head and partial upper body relaxing immediately. They rest their head on their blind side, one hand interlaced with The Fighter’s, behind them Mira finishing off the last of their tangles. The concern from their family’s faces hasn’t completely disappeared, but it’s eased. And that is enough to release the remaining tension in his body. It’s enough. 

Their family makes a few jokes that their brain muffles. Some laughing. Bonnie’s working on their snacks in the corner, still. They’ll be ready when they wake up. Their legs adjusted and placed in someone else’s lap, they think. Whoever it was, rubs circles into their calf. His eyelid grows heavier, their breathes come easy. Deep breaths. Someone rubs their back. 

It’s nice. Really.. really nice. One could easily forget they were even about to face the King at all. Face the end. They close their eyelid. It’s warm. One breath in. And out. Just.. just a quick nap. Where they are loved. They.. they are loved right? This is what this means… at least right now…

Yeah. They hope this is right.

Sleep engulfs them for the first time in several loops and their breaths slow.

The chatting continues around him, not lacking some glances exchanged between the adults in the room. But mostly, just relief fills the air. Mira stayed by Siffrin’s side, threading her fingers through his now completely combed out hair. The flush in Isabeau’s cheeks still hadn’t fully left, every movement reminding him of his crush resting so peacefully in his lap. Like a sleeping cat that once it has claimed you as it’s cushion, you are bound by the universe to not move for any reason. Odile didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him, met with Isa’s shushing and hushed whisper “what if he wakes up and hears you!!”

Siff had done a lot today, and everyone would have assumed he was completely calm about fighting the king if not for his uncharacteristic clumsiness. Mirabelle supposed it made sense though. A night of rough sleep right before facing the most dangerous threat facing the country? That would make anyone mess up.

After another twenty minutes, Bonnie comes over with the freshly prepared snacks. Made extra special since they were more ahead of schedule than expected. Last hurrah before the king, everyone needed to be at their best.

Mirabelle smiles, heading over to were Bonnie had announced the snacks. Isa attempts to move but flounders at the idea of moving Siff. Mirabelle giggles at his flushing face as Odile moves their legs out of their lap. Well, time to end their nap she supposes. Their sleepy family member probably won’t be too thrilled about waking up but it is snack time.

Mirabelle collects her choice of snack and crouches over to Siff, moving their hat from where it had obscured their resting expression. Isa looked both upset to have the time his crush sleeps on their lap come to an end, and relieved. He lets out a chuckle as Mira gently shakes their shoulder.

“Time to wake up, Siffrin! Bonnie has snacks for everyone.” Mira moves a few hairs out of their face. “Siffrin?”

Isabeau adjusts, and joins in. “Siff? Sorry to wake you bud but..” He pauses, seeing Mirabelle’s face shift. Odile’s gaze sharpens as Mirabelle’s leans over them, placing her ear to their chest.

“They- th-they aren’t” Mira cries out. “They aren’t breathing! No no no-” 

Isabeau moves Siffrin off his lap with shaking hands. Odile rushes over to their side, checking their wrist and neck for a pulse. Bonnie’s face crumbles in the corner, alarm replacing the happy air.

Isabeau shakes Siffrin’s still body, Mirabelle readies a heal craft as Odile begins to try resuscitating them.

but 

the 

world

goes

blank

Siffrin first feels the gentle breeze around them. The grass moving in tune, sometimes brushing up against the small areas their clothes don’t cover. They hear Mirabelle in the distance and when they open their eyes, she’s right above them, apologetic for waking them. Siffrin blinks. It’s been a while since Mira’s been the one to wake them up. 

“Good morning! Well, more like good afternoon, I gue- wow. Are you okay?”

That’s new. Why would her lines-

“You’re crying.. Is something wrong, Siffrin?”

He blinks and brings a hand to his face. Sure enough, his cheek is stained with tears. He doesn’t remember crying, he just woke up too. From..

“Must’ve happened in my sleep” He says absently.

Mira frowns, “Oh no! What did you dream about…?”

Siffrin shrugs and repeats lines he remembers that will reassure her the quickest. She sighs and returns back to town. They’ll be waiting for him.

He takes a moment to think about what happened in the last loop. He.. doesn’t remember dying. Must have been when he went to sleep. That. That probably should worry him, that falling asleep could end a loop, but he doesn’t feel any regret about it. Actually, it’d be nice if all his loops ended like that. Just, dying with his loved ones around. It would take too long though, even if it could happen again. This loop needs to be faster. Last loop they didn’t even reach the king, and they have questions. 

He grumbles as he sits up, a part of him yearning to go back to that warmth. Oh if only the universe could have let it be permanent. A permanent death that didn’t even hurt. That’s wishful thinking though, the universe isn’t so kind. And they have work to do, his family- actors. They need what he knows. He can’t rest forever yet.

The show must go on.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You have a Tattoo(s) and it turns them on [M]

Skz x Fem!Reader 

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

⤜ MINORS DNI! Mentions of sexual acts/descriptions of sexual acts

A/N: Awh you didn’t ask for too much at all my lovely anon, I hope this is okay for you sweetie!! First post back and I’m super nervous

CHAN:

It wasn't your first tattoo but it was the first tattoo in the place that seemed to be driving your boyfriend completely wild at just the first look at it. When you'd told Chan that you were going to get a tattoo he hadn't seemed that bothered by the news, that was until right now as he was staring at you from behind. 

"What do you think?" You questioned, slowly turning your head to glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend who appeared to just be staring down at the tattoo in complete silence. Worry began to wash over you as you instantly went to the worst-case scenario and that he hated the tattoo or that something was spelt wrong. It was the lyrics to one of his songs, one that you held close to your heart and Chan knew that which was why his feelings were so conflicted right now. 

"Is it spelt wrong?" You quizzed as your voice came out a little shaky, gently lowering your shirt when Chan's hands encased yours, keeping your shirt held up at your lower back.

"It's perfect," He breathed out, his heart hammering rapidly against his chest so much he was afraid it was about to burst right out of his chest. The tattoo was incredible and he almost felt guilty for the fact that instead of being completely and utterly in love with the lyrics he was busy picturing something else.

"So..." You trailed off, waiting for the other pin to drop since it sounded as though there was meant to be a "but" at the end of his sentence,

"I'm just imagining what it's going to look like when I'm fucking you from behind," He admitted, his ears beginning to burn a bright red as he realised he'd blurted the words out loud. Butterflies began to swarm all over your entire body as you thought about what he'd just said,

"Then I guess it better hurry and heal so you can make your imagination come true," You smirked, spinning around in his arms and wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush with his as he shivered a little.

MINHO:

Minho hadn't shown much interest when you told him that you were going to get a tattoo, in fact, he'd almost completely forgotten about it until you came home wearing a skirt. Not that was something completely un-ordinary for you but something he found odd when watching you from the kitchen. For the last five minutes, you'd been shifting uncomfortably with your legs spread, appearing as though you were trying not to itch your leg.

"Can you pass me an ice pack and a clean tea towel?" You called out to your boyfriend while you sat on the sofa, your feet were up on the coffee table in front of you spread slightly apart. You knew how itchy tattoos could be but for some reason, the one on your inner thigh was the worst itching sensation you'd come to deal with and you knew a cooling pad would help a lot. Minho arched his brow but did as was requested of him, slowly making his way over to you when the reason for the ice became clear, his pants began to grow tighter as he eyed up the ink on your leg.

"What?" You giggled watching in amusement as Minho suddenly sank to his knees in front of you, the sight was funny, to say the least as he sat directly between your legs admiring the inkwork. 

"Was this the tattoo you were getting?" His voice barely came out above a whisper as his fingertips gently caressed over the skin of your inner thigh and stared at the design you'd had done.

"Obviously baby," There was a shake to your voice whenever his fingers trailed a little too high on your skin. Minho knew that your thighs were one of your weakest points but he just couldn't help himself, not when it looked this good.

"How long until I can bury my face between your legs?" The comment caught you completely off guard as your skin began to burn at the thought of it all. You squirmed a little on the spot and looked down at your boyfriend who began to kiss your other thigh, biting and nipping on the skin as you let out a small whimper of his name.

"I-It's probably fine to do right now," You admitted, the itching of the tattoo completely fading from your mind as you gave in to the tender kisses on your legs from your boyfriend.

CHANGBIN:

This was supposed to be a surprise for your boyfriend but that was completely thrown out when Changbin walked into the bathroom to find you changing the film that covered the tattoo on your arm. The shop had given you instructions to keep it wrapped for the first four days and after that, you were free to remove it but keep the tattoo moisturised as much as possible to help the healing.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" You teased Changbin softly as he stared down at your arm, barging into the bathroom while you were in here was nothing new, you really should learn to lock the door. The tattoo was on your upper arm and you knew realistically you wouldn't be able to hide it for long but you thought you could have at least held out until it was healed before revealing it to him.

"You didn't tell me about this," He gasped out, his hands gently holding your arm as he turned it slowly to get a good look at the tattoo. He'd be lying to himself if the sight of you inked up wasn't making all of the blood in his body rush to his cock as he stared at it he wasn't sure what the big deal was, he'd seen tattoos on people a million times before but there was something about it being on you that drove him restless. 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," You giggled a little, watching as your boyfriend's eyes continued to drink in the appearance of the ink all over your arm. It wasn't anything huge but it was something you'd been planning to get for a while, something that held very special meaning to both you and Changbin. 

"Do you like it at least?" You questioned since he was being deathly silent on the matter it worried you that he thought it was too much or maybe he found it stupid. 

"What do you think?" His voice dropped in tone as he nodded down to his sweats, your eyes slowly began to travel down until you saw the tent that he appeared to be pitching. Your throat ran dry as you realised that your boyfriend was hard all because of a simple tattoo.

"A tattoo did that?" You laughed nervously,

"No babe, YOUR tattoo did that," He whispered huskily, his lips slowly finding their way toward your neck as he began to leave sloppy kisses up and down your bare skin nipping and sucking whenever he could.

"Damn, what are you going to do when I get more?" You laughed nervously, letting out a small squeal as he wrapped your left leg around his hip and ground himself against you.

"I guess you'll have to get some more and figure that out yourself," He answered cockily, going back to kissing down your neck while you let out soft whimpers of his name.

HYUNJIN:

Tattoos on you had always driven Hyunjin over the edge, there was just something about them that always turned him on when it came to you. It wasn't as though it was like that for everyone, only you. Even now the small whimpers and whines you would let out whenever Hyunjin let his hands massage the cream into your skin weren't doing his imagination any favours. Ever since you'd come home with your latest addition to your skin, Hyunjin had barely been able to keep his hands to himself, wanting nothing more than to touch you as much as he could. When you'd asked him to help apply some cream to your back he practically flew out of his home art studio to come and help you.

"That's so nice," You moaned out as his hands softly rubbed the cream into the freshly-inked skin making your body completely relax against his touch. You'd only asked him to apply a little cream, not an entire backrub but it appeared as though Hyunjin was down to make you completely relax with him.

"You should get more tattoos," Hyunjin whispered to you, his lips finding their place on the back of your neck while his hands slowly came to a stop and you let out a grumble in protest. 

"Why'd you stop?" You questioned, slowly craning your neck to be able to look at him only to find him staring at you with a darkened look in his eyes.

"I figured my hands would be much more useful somewhere else," He whispered seductively, his hands slowly running up the innards of your thigh as you let out a small breath of realisation. Your entire body was on fire the moment you realised what he was hinting at and you giggled to yourself,

"Oh? Is that right?" You slowly turned so that you were sitting up and facing him as he smirked back at you, two seconds away from kissing you into a frenzy.

"Only if you want to," He told you, slowly inching himself closer to your body before you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

JISUNG:

Jisung had been there while you were getting your tattoo done and you'd never seen the man act so strange before. Every minute he was shifting in his seat, blushing whenever you caught him staring at your thigh and whimpering when the tattoo was finally completed. Even after you'd paid the lady behind the counter he was rushing you out of the shop and in the direction of the car.

"I thought you wanted to go and look for the new manga you were wanting," You laughed nervously wondering what the big rush with getting you into the car was. The two of you had planned to go shopping after your tattoo but it appeared as though that option was no longer on the table.

"That was before," He whispered, unlocking the car so quickly he was almost dropping the keys onto the floor. In all the time you'd been dating you couldn't think of a time you'd seen Jisung this much in a rush about something, his hands were shaking and he appeared to look around nervously.

"Before what?" You raised your eyebrow as your boyfriend took you into the back of the car instead of the front and he laid you down on the seats. It began to click in your mind what exactly he was doing and you couldn't help but feel a little ego boost from it all,

"Before I got so horny I was ready to fuck you in that damn tattoo chair," He breathed out, shutting the door as he began to kiss you like a man starved. His lips crashed against yours hungrily, biting and sucking on your bottom lip while his hands ran down your waist, attempting to untuck the shirt from your skirt as you giggled against his lips.

"Slow down there cowboy," You pressed your palm against his chest and shook your head, there was absolutely no way you were about to have sex in the middle of a car parking lot in broad daylight.

"Let's get home before you start dry humping my leg like a needy pup," You said, sliding out from under him and getting out of the car to get back into the driver's seat, listening to your boyfriend whimper in protest.

FELIX:

Though Felix had never voiced what your tattoos did to him, it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out that they turned him on. Just last week you'd gotten another one added to your body and Felix had barely been able to leave you alone for more than 20 minutes at a time. Even now when you were supposed to be having a gaming night with his friends he was sitting with you right next to him,

"If you're not careful I'll be sitting on your lap next," You teased him as he attempted to pull you even closer to him. He didn't care that his friends were in the room, your tattoos were on display and all he wanted to do was take you into the bathroom and show you how much he adored them.

"That's not a bad thing," He whispered in your ear, not missing a beat as he bit down on your ear lobe and let out a small whimper when you scooted away from him. There was a time and a place for him to act needy toward you and this was neither,

"We're at your friend's place," You laughed, sliding a cardigan on to cover up the tattoos on your arms not that it was going to do much to sway him when he'd already laid eyes on them.

"Then let's go home," He was completely serious about it too but you shook your head at him, going to get another drink from the kitchen and letting his friends tease him for how needy he was acting toward you.

SEUNGMIN:

Those who assumed that Seungmin was quiet and laid back in the bedroom clearly hadn't been friends with your boyfriend long enough, or Seungmin was just incredibly good at hiding his true intentions around people. The boys would constantly tease him about how much of a laid-back lover he must have been but they couldn't have been more wrong.

"S-Seungmin," You whined out, your legs beginning to burn from how long the two of you had been at this. Ever since you'd gotten another tattoo the man had barely left you alone, getting needier whenever he would see the ink that lined your collarbone. It wasn't anything extravagant nor was it anything that was majorly a turn-on but the sight of ink on your body drove Seungmin mad with desire. 

"Fucked out already baby? I've only made you cum four times," He chuckled to himself, holding you still on top of him as you lazily leaned your head against his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

"You're like a fucking wild animal whenever I get a new tattoo," You breathed out, enjoying the way his hands slowly began to rub up and down your back gently.

"I can't help it, there's just something about the way it looks on you," He admitted to you, watching as your eyes slowly began to shut as you struggled to stay awake. 

JEONGIN:

Jeongin had no idea what it was that turned him on so much about you having tattoos, it never happened whenever he saw someone else with a tattoo. Though he'd always found them to be "badass" or "cool-looking" on other people there was just something about you that sent the man frantic. 

"What about this one?" You questioned as you stepped into the changing area's waiting station, you were supposed to be choosing a dress for your friend's wedding but it appeared as though you were struggling majorly. Whatever option you picked never felt right when you were alone so you'd dragged your boyfriend out with you to help. 

"What's the back like?" Jeongin questioned, his eyes travelling up and down your body as you slowly did a spin to show him the back of the gown. Within seconds you were being pushed back into the changing room and the door was locked, your heart was practically in your throat with how fast you'd been moved.

"Innie?" You giggled, feeling your boyfriend press your body against the wall, his hands slowly trailing down your waist and dragging you close. Jeongin's heart was racing as he let out a small whimper of your name,

"It's backless," He whispered as if that was clearing anything up but you were just as confused as before, you'd worn plenty of backless dresses before and he'd never reacted this way to them.

"Your tattoo," Realisation began to crash into you as you smirked at him. Of course, you had tattoos everywhere but for some reason, the one on your back - which was your most recent - was the one that caused Jeongin to get turned on the most. Maybe it was the size of it or the fact that it was so incredibly detailed you had no idea, all you knew was that whenever he saw it he would get so turned on he'd take you anywhere to take care of his needs.

"I'm not fucking you in the changing rooms," You chuckled as he let out a small whimper in protest to you, sounding almost so needy you wanted to give in to him but this was a public area and you still needed to find a dress to wear.

"Shall I get this dress?" You whispered to him, your fingers slowly curling a strand of his hair around your finger. Jeongin's eyes never left yours, as though he was in a trance with you.

"Get this dress. I won't leave you alone the whole night at the wedding," A smirk began to grow on your lips as you thought about it, the thought of having him attached to you all night long sounded like bliss.

"This dress it is then, now..." You began to pull away from him as you spoke,

"Get out and let me change." You drove him slowly toward the door as he protested for you not to let him go out there the way that he was, he had no way of hiding how hard he was right now.

"We'll go straight home and I'll take care of you baby," You promised, leaving one last long kiss on his lips before shoving him out and into a chair to wait for you.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny​ @critssq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​

[kalinysu]

Hi there! Can I request Muzan x fem! slayer! Reader? :)

Slayer! reader going into an abandon house right after some villagers told her that things happen at night inside the abandon house and when she turns up, she meets Muzan again after encountering him alongside with Tanjiro from the night market. Muzan confessing his love and begging and telling the reader to stay beside him and become his and become a demon. (slight Yandere! Muzan maybe??)

Thanks!!! :)))

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. — Muzan x F!Slayer

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Yandere behavior, murder, blood, kidnapping.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Still taking requests! I’ve always got too much free time, and i’m also working on a surprised fluff story on the side.

You were a strong hashira. Not the strongest, but definitely no where near the weakest. You were also the only hashira to ever meet face to face with Muzan Kibutsuji. Having ran into him in Asakusa after meeting a new demon slayer, Tanjiro Kamado. You didn’t fight him, as there were far too many people in the area, and it’d be risking thousands of lives. So the two of you had no choice but to let him go on. Today, you were out on a mission you had received from Ubuyashiki.

There were some strange things going on in an abandoned house on the far part of a village, along with people frequently going missing. You arrived late at night, which was perfect. There was nobody outside, and if it was a low rank demon, you could kill it easily without anyone seeing or being disturbed. Though, when you walked into the abandoned house, you were greeted with the unpleasant smell of blood. And the first thing you saw was a tall figure right in front of you, his crimson red eyes glaring down at you.

Your hand was quick to unsheathe your sword, before it was flung far away. Now you recognized him, and he had already recognized you. “We meet again, darling.” His voice was deep, and filled with malice. Your eyes were wide, and you were frozen in place for a moment, moving quickly to run and grab your sword before you felt his cold hands grabbing you. “Come on, you know, i’ve missed you. I knew I recognized that beautiful face of yours.” He said, his arm around your waist, holding you tightly against him, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“Let go of me.” You said sharply, your body tensed up as you tried to move away from him. Your hand pressed against his chest as you groaned. “What kind of man would I be if I did that? You are much too beautiful for me to let go of, your rare.” He said with a dark chuckle. “Ive loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, despite you being a slayer and all. But that’s an easy fix.” He said, gripping your chin tighter, causing you to try harder to get away from him. “Get off of me! I don’t give a damn if you love me or not, I hate you and I always will!! I have a boyfriend already anyways, you could never compare to him.” You shouted at him.

“Do you now?” He said with a chuckled, allowing your line of sight to trail behind him. The body of your boyfriend was on the ground, his limbs torn apart and blood practically everywhere. Your eyes widened, feeling a terrible sense of dread. Your breathing sped up, your heart pounding. “You—monster!!“ You screamed at him, tears forming in your eyes as your attempts grew more aggressive. “Your far too noisy.” He said, before suddenly your vision went black.

As your vision fades to black, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness and despair. When you regain consciousness, you realize you're in a dimly lit room, restrained by chains that bind your wrists and ankles. Muzan Kibutsuji stands before you, a sadistic smile on his face, relishing in your suffering."You thought you could escape me, my darling," he taunts, his voice dripping with venom. "But you're mine now, forever."

Fear courses through your veins, but you muster your strength and defiance despite the dire situation. "I'll never be yours, Muzan! I'll fight you until my last breath!" His smile widens, amused by your futile resistance. "Oh, how I adore your spirit. But don't worry, my dear, I have plans for you. You'll come to love me, just as I love you." Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to escape or find a weakness in Muzan's hold. You remember the stories of his immortality and his insurmountable strength, but you also recall the determination of your fellow demon slayers and the bond you shared with them.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you lock eyes with Muzan, determination burning within you. "You may have me trapped for now, but my comrades will find me. They will defeat you and put an end to your reign of terror." Muzan chuckles darkly, amused by your defiance. "Ah, yes, your fellow demon slayers. How quaint. But they won't find you in time. And even if they do, they'll fall before me, just like the countless others who've dared to oppose me." With renewed determination, you refuse to let despair consume you. You know the strength and tenacity of the demon slayers, their unwavering resolve to protect humanity. You also hold onto the memory of your fallen boyfriend, using his sacrifice as a source of strength.

"I won't let you win," you say, your voice filled with conviction. "Even if it costs me my life, I will never succumb to your bullshit. I will fight until my last breath, and my comrades will carry on the fight in my honor." Muzan's grin falters for a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. But he quickly composes himself, his crimson eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "We shall see, my darling. We shall see how long your defiance lasts." Muzan said, kneeling down to your side. “How does becoming a demon sound? Perfect huh?” He said, leaning close to your face. “Come on, you’ll get to be by my side forever, I won’t let anyone harm you, ever. And you wont have to worry about demons hurting you anymore. It’s such a wonderful idea, really. Your so perfect already, but it’d be better if you were immortal.”

You tugged against the chains, managing to break of of the only for you to be pinned to the floor immediately. “S-stop it!! Let me go!!” You screamed. Though your cries for help were ignored.

“Yeah, let’s get see just how much of my blood one of you hashira can handle.”

[ahhnini]

better things - cheater!ex! rafe cameron x reader one shot

part two / part three

synopsis - after rafe cheats on you, he wants a second chance. unfortunately for him, you’re onto better things now

warnings - rafe is lowkey an asshole here, arguing, cheating ( i don’t condone it!! )

word count - 1.2k

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

ask box is open!

tbh i love when my interests mix so here’s some aespa with a fic lol

divider credits - aqualogia on tumblr

initially, you had a rough time after the breakup with rafe. tissues from crying were littered all over your room, you ghosted your friends, and you’re pretty sure you sold out the ice cream from the local grocery store.

turns out, he had cheated. you should’ve known something was up when his text responses became dry, didn’t want to go out in public for dates, and was always on his phone.

when you received the text from him saying, “I need to talk to you,” you panicked. your text response however, remained calm. you both met up, he confessed he cheated on you and wanted to break things off. you tried your best keeping a poker face but he knew you too well, knowing you were about to break down. he then had the audacity to give you “one final hug” before speeding off on his bike, leaving you wallowing in your tears. he never even apologized.

now, here you are, sunbathing with a couple of your friends. it’s a small island, so you occasionally see rafe with his new girlfriend, sofia. or was it sofie? you honestly can’t remember, and that was good. you’ve moved on, healed, realized that you were only with rafe because he saw you at your weakest.

as you watch your friends go in the water to cool off from the heat, you notice a familiar blond boy walking along the beach, alone. you take a glance and lay down on your beach towel again, not paying attention to him. until he calls out your name.

you sit up, and rafe stands over you. you want to see if you can ignore him, so you just wave him off, but you hear him scoff. it was awkward, of course, your ex was standing right in front of of you after almost a year of no contact. you decide to speak up, breaking the silence, “yeah?” and he bluntly says “we…broke up,” your eyebrows furrow. “okay? what does that have to do with me?” you respond. he sighs, “can we talk in private?” “alright, make it quick”

you both walk to a more secluded area, and he begins speaking, “we broke up because of you,” he sighs. “because of me? what part do I play in your relationship?” you cross your arms, scoffing. “sofia thought I was still hung up on you, and she was right, I was,” he looks at you, there’s shame in his eyes, and guilt in his words. you couldn’t believe what he was saying. he continued, “listen, I know I cheated on you, it was a shitty thing for me to do. my head wasn’t right, and…I took you for granted.”

you roll your eyes and scoff again, “yeah, you did take me for granted rafe…you knew how much I loved you, you knew how much I cherished our relationship…for you to throw that away-” he interrupts, “I know, and i’m willing to give it another shot. if you would just let me-” it was now your turn to interrupt, “excuse me? do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? you were the one who broke my heart in the first place, and now you’re crawling back to me? i’m sorry rafe, I won’t ever get back with you. never in a million years.” he sighed, defeated.

he hated seeing you like this, so happy. after that day on the beach, he tried to talk to you again via text. and again, and again, and again, until you finally hit the block button on his contact.

your paths crossed again at the wreck, you were talking with someone, a new friend perhaps. you were smiling and giggling as you ate one of your fries. of course he noticed you first, and his heart leaped. he wanted to come up to you and strike a conversation again, but he knew he would just get shut out by you once more. he wanted to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible, so he ordered and anxiously tapped his foot while mr. carrera fulfilled his order. as soon as his number was announced, he took the bag of food and rushed to his car, not caring that he was being stared at.

it hurt his pride, of course. he knows he shouldn’t be reacting this way, he has no right to be acting this way. but god, did he miss you. he missed the way he basically had you wrapped around your finger, you were so willing to drop everything for him at the snap of his fingers. sofia wasn't the same. she set him straight, didn't enable his behavior, and he hated that. rafe always got things his way, he couldn't control sofia the way he controlled you.

word gets around fast in kildare country. it didn't take long for rafe to find out that you have someone new. he quickly came to terms that you've finally moved on. however, he wasn't prepared to see you and your new boyfriend in person so soon.

you were living your best life, your skin was glowing, and you had the best boyfriend in the world, jason. he was the juxtaposition of rafe, a breath of fresh air. you two were having brunch at the country club, watching some of the members out on the field, playing golf or also having a nice meal. as you take another bite out of your avocado toast, you see a familiar trio walk in. you really wish this island wasn't so small so you wouldn't see him that often. it annoyed you more than it bothered you. you put your toast down on the plate, then spoke to your boyfriend, "i'm gonna use the restroom," he nodded his head. you stood up from your chair and went inside the building.

while on your way to the restroom, you ran into rafe. it had been six months after you blocked him, and you resisted rolling your eyes when he waved and smiled at you. he started walking towards you, and you hoped he knew how much of a stupid decision he was making. probably not, you thought. he was now across you, and you hear him speak up, "how are you?" "fine," you say, dryly. "heard some things goin' around town." rafe says, trying to keep the conversation going. "yeah, I have a new boyfriend," your voice is monotone. "oh, does he treat you better than me?" he asks. you roll your eyes and try your best to not just walk away from the conversation.

"yes, he does, rafe. why haven't you moved on?" your voice was slightly raised, and he sighs, "you know why I haven't moved on. I need you, y/n. please-" "rafe. i've moved on. you should too." you start walking away to the restroom, and he looks at you, defeated. you knew your worth, and you knew you deserved someone better than rafe.

he took one last glance at you before going back to topper and kelce. he sighed as your words hung over him. you moved onto better things now.

[inumakis-boo]

I loved your inumaki headcannons and def want more. Do you also have any of megumi by chance?

(If not that is okay. I will take inumaki crumbs)

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜

headcanons ⸝⸝ hey everyone! ive been on a writing streak as of recent, so i love to give more headcanons and ideas about dating megumi! ofc, this is from a fem perspective.

safe for work headcanons

+ megumi literally did not think much of you when you first met. it was only seeing how you interact with others that he started to get you more.

+ whenever he sees you typing in the group chat, he always makes sure he answers (of course, only to make sure youre heard, much to itadori and kagisakis interest)

+ probably won't call you, but texting is decently fun with him. for someone decently calm and quiet, hes curious about how you work, ect.

+ he enjoys sharing his earbuds with you, and you lend him a few songs to listen too (you seem to get his style, although he likes a much of different things, and he saves them to his playlists)

+ doesnt mind staying back to help you train or study, and honestly you two end up talking about the jujustu world and everyone in general

+ he doesn't seem like he cares about gossip, but the moment you start talking about it he is going to pay attention

+ you two always swap what you don't like on food

+ brushing his hair with your fingers will make him fall asleep.

+ you two always somehow crowd around each other when others are training or at parties or events

+ he does not suck at communicating, he just does it in his own way. maybe in notes or through text, he is very sensitive in reality

+ would absolutely ignore his friends if you two had a date or even just taking a walk. if someone has his attention, he will give all of it

+ he loves to print out the pictures he takes of you on his recyclable camera and keep them in a little drawer in his desk

+ seems to talk about you less the more you start seeing each other/not into pda whatsoever. he doesn't want other people (especially HIS people) in your business. at the most though, he will always offer acts of service in return (buying you snacks, matching bracelets or necklaces, holding your backpack.)

+ he probably isn't a huge fan of pet names, he will never get over how embarrassing they make him feel, at the very best, meg is fine (the other half is reserved for gojo.. for whatever reason.)

+ he loves to have cuddle dates- don't have time worry about going places, just his warm bed, and both of you sleeping while he holds you.

+ your laughter may be a weak spot for him, and produces a smile every single time (even infront of other people, which they always notice.)

below this, are not safe for work headcanons. // mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

~ megumi is.. a stupid guy when it comes to fucking you.

~ hates public attention? will litter your body with purple hickeys.

~ doesn't like pda? will push you against a wall in a secluded place and eat you out from the back as your forehead meets the cement wall

~ he doesn't think too much about it, unless he thinks he is hurting you, then his penis brain turns off

~ its slightly embarrassing for him at first, but he likes to fondle you as he kisses your neck from behind. when he first heard your whimpering, that embarrassment flew out the window

~ while practically growling in your ear about how pretty you are and how wet you are down there

~ long fingers are always put to good use.. always.

~ his favorite thing to do is eating you out. he loves watching you squirm and plead as he makes circles around your clit with his thumb.

~ and his favorite position is hitting it from the back while holding you, so he can whisper and pant into your ear while you take all of him, and also to hear you huff into the pillow.

~ his weakest spot is hearing you moan and whine through his hand that wraps around your mouth every time you get loud.

~ pulling on his hair makes him whine.. or makes him go harder.

~ dirty talk, once his brain shuts off

~ "fuck, i want to see you cum. youre not leaving here until i see it."

~ always does the dirty in his room, because he doesn't want to make a mess in yours- he cares about whats in his room, but not enough to avoid breaking it on accident when he fucks you against it.

~ always after is the biggest gulit-session

~ "was i too mean? did i hurt you? god why am i so stupid?" yeah stupid in love with you.

thank you for your asks and whatnot! i will definitely write more inumaki headcanons when i get the chance next!

please, send more, i absolutely love talking to yall!

bye pookies!

[webslingingslasher]

i wanna bite peter. no. i NEED to bite Peter.

his skin looks so yummy i crave it😁😁

it's been a long three days and you've missed your frat boy past the point of insanity.

mentally, you were scratching your arms and had a twitchy eye. physically, you were power walking to frat row. the second, and you mean the second, peter texted you and told you he was back from his weekend trip, you dropped everything to see him.

he wasn't even done unpacking when he heard your soft stomps up the stairs, he knows it's you just by the sound. peter had missed you more than he would admit, he couldn't wait to give you a bruising kiss to prove it.

'petey!' it's loud and he doesn't care one bit. his girls in front of him.

'trouble!' opening his arms wide, he's ready for the hug of his lifetime. you're nearly bouncing over to him before pulling his arm down. peter's eyebrows furrow, he thinks you're going for an awkward wrap around, until you tug his shirt sleeve up and sink your teeth into the meat of his bicep.

'ah! you vermin, get away!' he's doing the world's weakest job at pulling away, you smile into his skin before shaking your head like a dog with a bone.

peter had expected you to jump on him and kiss over his face. you had done nothing but tell him how much you missed him and his 'strong arms' and the second you can be in them again, you treat him like a chew toy.

you missed his arms alright, missed eating them, that is.

'hey, c'mon, i missed you too! i want a hug and a kiss, then you can nibble as much as you want.'

you dot kisses over the skin you had under your teeth, 'i missed you so much.' peter's whiny this time, 'then give me a hug!' he wants his arms around you so bad.

you wrap your arms around him and tuck your head under his chin, you can tell how much he really missed you when he fully relaxes into your hold.

'slept like shit without you.' kisses on your forehead has you happily sigh into his chest. 'liar, you hate sharing a bed with me. you always threaten to kick me out.'

peter didn't realize how much he missed you waking him up in the middle of the night for some bogus reason. it made him feel loved, it didn't matter what time it was, you wanted him to be the first person you told anything to, even if it was just a weird dream.

he won't admit that though, instead he says, 'you're right, it was nice not being woken up to cold feet and philosophical questions.'

'knew it,' that means you know he missed you more than he'd ever tell you. 'can i please have a kiss now?' if you'd ever say no to that question, especially when he asks it as soft and hesitant as he just did.

but that doesn't mean you can't give him shit, you let out a pretend groan, 'fine, i guess so.' revealing your face, you blink at the overhead light in his room.

instead of grabbing you passionately, he cups your cheeks and smushes your lips together in a pout. peter takes his time looking you over, he's silent and it makes you feel shy.

While you look down for a second, peter whispers out to you.

'my baby.'

his lips are on yours, a sense of home and peace envelops you. clenching at the waist of his shirt, you lean up to fully melt into him. peter's thinking the same way, wrapping an arm around your lower back to pull you flush into him.

peter pulls away for just a second before he's back on you, placing three quick pecks before breaking out in a smile.

'i have no fucking idea how i'm going to survive the summer,' you bite down on your lip, summer is months away, he's not able to imagine a future without you and it makes you ultra giddy.

'easy, i come stay with you for a few weeks. i think may and i would get along.' you expected him to roll his eyes, instead he nods his head. 'i think she'd love that, she's always hinting she needs another woman around her.'

you kiss your teeth at him, 'three days without me and you're planning the future. i love to see it.'

'it made me realize how much i like having you around me, even if you're biting me.'

you gasp, eyes widening at the forgotten idea. 'oo, thanks, petey!' you swing your head to clamp your teeth into his arm, a hiss follows.

'you're a fucking rat and so uninvited from my aunt's house!' 

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.4

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: Daryl starts changing, and Beth brings up the embarrassing memory of your kiss with Daryl back at the farm. The Governer has his final attack, and you crash at a church.

Notes: Starts with Beth at the prison, flashback to super awkward kiss with Daryl, ends with Beth at the hospital. ):

The change was subtle at first, but that doesn't mean you didn't notice it. You just ignored it in the desperate hopes that it wouldn't get any worse.

You had quite a few months of peace. Maybe half a year? You couldn't be sure at that point, but you did know that spring had turned to fall, and with it the idea of permanently residing in the prison becoming something you were content with. You still kept to yourself and Daryl, but you did pick up some extra chores. Instead of the bare minimum you chose jobs you could do outside, or jobs Daryl had taken. If you weren't tending to the gardens, you were with him in the woods, hunting or scavenging, even foraging on the occasion when prey was scarce. 

“Are you and Daryl together?’ Beth had asked so bluntly that you didn't have the mental capability to laugh or curse her out. You stopped picking cherry tomatoes and furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“Why would you ask me that?” 

Beth had a tight and timid smile, shrugging her shoulders and placing another cucumber in her basket. “You two are always around each other, that's all.” 

You shook off the feeling of vulnerability and sucked your teeth. “No. He's just the only one around here who I can stand.”

“Can you stand me?”

You looked at her over the row of chest high plants, seeing her hesitant expression. “Yes. I wouldn't’ve let you join me if that wasn't the case.” It wasn't a lie, you didn't mind being around Beth, even if you think she was the one of the weakest and most naive. Eventually you'd come to the realization that you had her all wrong, in fact, she was stronger than you. At least in the sense of emotional capability. 

Later that week she would end up giving you unwanted advice. She claimed that building walls and keeping everyone out besides yourself would kill you one day, much like the real world, you needed to allow yourself to rely on and trust others. You'd grow angry at her then, lashing out and telling her to mind her own business, you didn't need a therapist. She soon managed to turn into the first person you would apologize to and seek forgiveness from. 

Her questioning of the relationship between you and Daryl had your mind wandering to that night back at her fathers farm.

It was late. Daryl was still recovering from his gunshot wound but he wanted out of that damn house, so he settled for the next best thing to his tent, the back of the RV. Carol insisted he stay nearby, which you agreed to silently, and he begrudgingly accepted. 

You brought him a plate of dinner and sat in the chair next to him, sliding it over before taking one of the small boiled potatoes and popping it in your mouth.

“The hell you wearin’?” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Both pairs of pants were dirty and i didnt feel like walking around camp with my ass out.” You glanced down at the modest dress you’d been leant. You didn't mind it all that much, it was scratchy and tight, but it was kind of pretty. It was a warm yellow dress that ended below your knees with little white flowers and dots. You never really got to wear dresses growing up. 

“Huh.” Daryl muttered and raised an eyebrow at the imagery, raising his fork of chicken and carrots to his mouth. “Yeah. Don’t need another reason to knock Shane on his ass.”

“Shane? He hates me.” You snorted. “Would probably put a bullet in my skull if he could get away with it.”

“He’s still a man. Don’t matter how you feel about a woman, s’all the same seein’ her naked.”

“Ew, Daryl.” 

“S’true.”

“Yeah? What about you? You wouldn’t see me that way.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up from his plate. He was silent, and that alone had your heart racing, your lips parting, your mind swimming in hundreds of different thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“I ain’t no pillow biter.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Means I’m not a homosexual. Course I’d… can ya jus’ shut up?”

“I wasn't even speaking.” You tried not to laugh at the way Daryl said the word homosexual, like it was some exotic foreign mystery to him. It wasn’t hateful or disgusted in the way his brother would refer to them. 

It was quiet for a moment before you noticed he was wincing when he’d chew. 

“You hurting?” You asked, already reaching in your side pouch for the small baggie of painkillers Hershel had given you to give to Daryl when needed. 

“Nah. M’fine. Quit worryin’ so much.”

You scooted around the table until you could squeeze in beside him. He grunted in annoyance and slid over to give you more room, his eyes on the hem of your dress at your knees.

“Surprised you haven't scratched that thing off already.” You snorted and reached out to gently peel the bottom of his bandage up after he gave you a nod of approval. “Lookin’ good. Another surprise.”

“Ain’t no damn dog, haven’t been touchin’ it.” He rolled his eyes, trying not to feel uncomfortable  with the way your thigh pressed against his. After all these years of knowing you, feeling perfectly comfortable snuggled all up with you in the same tent, now was the time his body chose to acknowledge the fact that you were a woman?

He begrudgingly took the two small white pills from your hand and crunched them up in his mouth. He was eager for the painkillers to hopefully kill what little libido he had in him. 

It did its job, taking away the aching and throbbing from his skull, warming his body and reminding him why Merle used to love those things. He was suddenly optimistic, relaxed, filled with a fuzzy warm feeling of euphoria. Daryl cleared his throat and drug his eyes up to your face, watching as you snuck a stolen blueberry past your lips.

He acted without thinking and kissed you. It was clumsy, weird, awkward, all the things you’d expect from a boy's first kiss. You didn't move at first, your eyes wide and your hand hanging midair. You were too stunned to move. 

Daryl pulled back as if he’d been slapped. He muttered something, his face hot and red, waving his hand to signal you to leave. You were still too stunned to move. It took him raising his voice for you to snap out of it, dozens of thoughts and emotions flooding you all at once, fear, regret, hope, a stomach full of butterflies and your heart stuck in your tight throat. You muttered an apology before leaving.

Life loves giving you the shit end of the stick. 

That was another one of your problems, due to your near constant state of being a real victim growing up. Life had groomed you into an unhealthy behavior of always thinking you were the one who had it the worst, no matter what.  In reality you had it pretty good. After the Governors final attack you weren't one of the unlucky many that went through further trauma. You found a church after a while of being by yourself and broke into it. 

It was just your luck that the only human inside of it was a cowardly priest. He was thrilled to have someone like you with him after being alone so long, even though he didn't show it, you were a skilled hunter and offered food and protection in exchange for secure shelter. He also appreciated that you didn't speak much, and never questioned the suspicious markings and scratches around the exterior of all the windows. 

He'd complained once about your use of language in the church, and you responded by a snarky middle finger. 

You could've used a good wake up call, as sick as it was to say. Maybe if you'd been in Daryl's place, growing close to a girl such as Beth and then losing her, maybe you would've changed. Or if you were in Michonne's place, forced to watch the boy you'd come to love dance a hair away from one of the worst fates possible. Shit, maybe even Maggie, maybe if you were the one who had to go through hell and back to find your husband, maybe then you'd go through the emotional torture you so desperately needed for positive character growth. 

Life didn't work that way though, and you had it easy. So easy that the boredom was quick to become your hardship. 

“You got any booze here?” You asked as you laid on your back beside him in the pews, sharpening your clip point knife on Daryl's borrowed whetstone. 

“No.” He answered quickly, not looking up from the Bible in his hands. 

“Cigarettes? I'll be out soon.”

“I don't smoke.”

“Any of your old prescriptions? I know your type, I bet your bathroom cabinet was full of valium.” You took a jab at his timid and nervous personality.

“I'm sorry, no… I don't like taking pills. I don't even take Advil for headaches-”

“Do you have anything here that'll keep me from blowing my brains out?” 

Gabriel looked up then, holding a look of surprise and distaste that he didn't even try to hide. “I… I may have some games from the children's Sunday school classes.”

To the shock of both of you, you nodded after thinking it over for a moment. Gabriel hadn't expected that answer, but he got up and led you to the room anyway.

Neither of you believed that night would be the night that you started to like each other. The boredom had grown so unbearable that those stupid little games he had seemed like playing San Andreas on your father's PlayStation 2 for the first time all over again. It wasn't just the first time Gabriel saw you laugh, it was the first time you'd actually laughed in a long time, and it wasn't at the expense of others, you genuinely had fun. 

“I could teach you.” He had said after you made a joke about going to the darkest depths of hell after smoking and swearing in church. 

“Teach me what?” You snorted, flicking ash from your cigarette.

“About the Bible. How to change.” 

You laughed then, shaking your head. “I don't know, father. Don't think so. But, if you'll let me, I can teach you how to make meth.”

His eyes widened. “W-what? You know how to do that? No, I- no, what?”

“Just a joke. I'd hate to see you on crystal. You're already so jittery and anxious.” 

He grinned sheepishly then and you had a good night. A great night. 

All it took was reuniting with Daryl to snap you back to reality. 

You'd searched for him as long as you had daylight every single day since arriving at the church. Even though the first few days most of your time outside was spent hunting, searching for signs of Daryl or his group was your main priority. Catching rabbits and squirrels was just lucky for Gabriel. 

It was off putting having Gabriel return with nearly the entire inner group on your doorstep. Your arms were covered in squirrel blood and you had twigs all in your hair, swinging open the church doors with your boot, a cigarette hanging between your lips. The skinned squirrel dropped from your grasp as you saw them, over a dozen faces all turned to you, all at once. 

Daryl hugged you with an exhausted yet relieved grin on his lips. You remained frozen, too confused and shocked by their sudden arrival. He ended up having to move your body out of the doorway so everyone could enter. 

“Was starting to think I lost you for good.” You commented as you stabbed a plastic fork into your hot can of peaches, stretching your legs in front of the campfire. 

“Nah. I told ya, I ain't leavin’.” 

“So, what happened? You all get on the bus and leave my sorry ass?” You teased, enjoying the sweet taste of fruit, even if it was canned. 

Daryl gave you the rundown, about Beth, the group he stuck with, going to Terminus, and the new members who claimed their guy was a big shot fancy scientist who had a cure.

“That's bullshit if I've ever heard it.” You tried to ignore the gnawing in your chest at the information that Beth had been taken. That was just another sick and uncomfortable reminder that Daryl was truly it for you. Everyone would leave, but not Daryl. Never Daryl.

“I dunno. Seems pretty legit.” Daryl grunted, finishing one of the squirrels you'd caught earlier that day. “So what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, after the shit show. What happened?”

You sighed, impaling your last peach slice. “I walked for a real long time looking for you. Found the church and busted in, this guy was cowering in the back with his ass half way through the floorboards.” You pointed over your shoulder at Gabriel, who was so nervous speaking to Rick you could see his fingers twitching. 

“And I never left. Used it as a place to sleep without bugs crawling up my nose or walkers nibbling my feet.”

Daryl snorted, staring off into the flames of the campfire before asking another question. “You look for me?”

“I tried.” You chose to leave out the part where you ‘tried’ twelve hours a day, seven days a week. “Couldn't find a damn thing. No human tracks besides ole boy. Needs a little less Bible preaching and a little more stealth training.” You paused then, looking at Daryl, who was still staring  off into the flames. “Did you look for me?”

“For a while, yeah. Me and Beth.” It took him a moment before he went on. “Lotta shit happened after that. But I kept lookin’. Was lucky we ran into your friend there surrounded by walkers. Made lookin' a lot easier.” He chuckled dryly and you nodded. You suddenly thought about Daryl back in Atlanta, back at the farm. The way he looked for Sophia, day and night, subconsciously using her as his redemption for not being able to find Merle. Did he look for you the same way? Or was it a more of a ‘keep an eye out’ type of search? 

Deep down you knew the answer. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. 

You didn't have Daryl back long before he was gone again. He came back a while later with yet another new human, some scrawny kid claiming he knew where Beth was. 

It was surprising to you that Rick didn't suggest you just stay back at the church. He actually insisted you accompany them on their search for Beth. That was until you realized Carl and Judith would both be left behind with Gabriel, which would have left you as one of the only adults. That pissed you off a little, giving you the impression that he thought of you as some psychotic loose cannon, or that you weren't capable of protecting them. After you cooled down you accepted the fact that you wouldn't trust someone like you either to watch your only two children, the last thing he had of his late wife. 

Rick had come to slightly regret bringing you when you tormented one of the ‘cops’ they were keeping hostage, blowing cigarette smoke in his face while he was immobile and randomly smacking a handkerchief against his face to annoy him. Rick must've said something to Daryl because instead of thinking your antics were absolutely hilarious, he discreetly pulled you aside and told you to ‘leave the damn man alone’. 

Blowing a little smoke in someone's face was nothing compared to what you wanted to do when you watched Beth get shot in front of you. 

It had only hit you that day when you finally saw your sweet pain in the ass again, you felt optimistic, relieved, her positive attitude was something you deeply needed. It was quickly replaced by feral anger, hissing, spitting, biting, clawing, the feeling of arms belonging to Tyreese wrapping around your torso to drag you away from the bloody mess you'd made of the nearest cop. 

You were grateful for your rage, it was so strong and numbing that you weren't able to cry. 

Oh, but how Daryl cried. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[loveliestlovelygirl]

divine temptations | 222

you're such an angel, and i'm gonna hurt you

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: after the meeting with the high council, anakin is imprisoned publicly to shame him. in his hatred for your guardian angels, he destroys them, causing chaos to overcome both heaven and earth.

w.c: 2.6k+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from catholicism primarily, sexual themes, corruption kink, light sexualization of the reader as a nun, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns, attempted sexual assault {mentioned}, rape {mentioned}

table of contents | 333 {coming soon}

The memories of his assault of your vessel were visceral and disturbing weeks after the event. Your neck was left bruised, and it ached for several days. Sometimes, you couldn’t sleep because every time you closed your eyes you were sent back to that moment where you were at your weakest, helpless against that tree. Almost raped. Almost.

Almost is a taunting thought

You believed that, since you hadn’t been defiled, you shouldn’t be bothered by the occurrence for long. You shouldn’t have these nightmares of being raped over and over again. You shouldn’t feel vulnerable. You would simply return to your beautiful life here at the convent, your sanctuary. A place where you never have felt unsafe or threatened in any way. You loved the women here, and they loved you.

The last time you were vulnerable like this was your past life when you were a part of the world, before you had found the monastic way of life. Never did you believe you would have to feel pain like this again.

Hatred lights the path of the fallen. But you hate that man for what he wanted to do to you. How could someone be so wicked?

And every time you thought of his face, you cried and sometimes wished for death. These were thoughts that haven’t scathed your mind since you entered the convent. But perhaps contact with that despicable man left you tainted. Maybe you needed to be cleansed and prayed over, bathed in the holy waters.

What other recourse did you have?

When you explained to your sisters why you required the service, they were more than happy to pray over you. They prepared the bath for you too. Sister Agnes remained with you the entire time to help guide your prayers. The water must have risen an inch from your tears. After the bath, Sister Agnes walked you back to your private chamber.

She broke into a sob. “Oh, my dear,” the elderly woman wiped her tears, “We shouldn’t have allowed you to go near the road alone.”

You drew her into a hug. Of course, they should have sent you with another. But all you could say to the heartbroken woman was, “Don’t worry about it. I feel much better now. Our Lord protected me.”

Sister Agnes cried harder when you said that. The new expression upon her wrinkled face was one of relief. She truly believed you. And you were happy that she would not share your pain.

You bid her goodnight and went inside your room to pray. When you wanted to feel closer to the Creator, you opened your window to let the moonlight in and knelt before your window seat, setting a pillow under your knees, a makeshift prayer bench. While it was not the proper way in which to address Him, you were not so sure He minded.

For the first few minutes, you sobbed, thanking Him for the lightning that only struck your assailant and not you. The electricity only touched your skin momentarily. It was as if there had been a barrier between you and Death. You should have both died from the lightning, but only that man did. The miraculous occurrence saved you from an even greater pain.

But the thought did little to comfort you. Why you? What made you so special that you deserved a supernatural rescue and so many others didn’t? The thing that should have brought you to your knees in gratitude and praise of your savior made you... question everything, including how heavenly justice worked?

Although, the whole incident could have been some cosmic joke.

And despite spending the whole day in prayer with your sisters, you felt the same. You were still terrified about what happened. So much so that sleep was an impossible feat. During all your time at the convent prior to the horrific event, you embraced solitude and found contentment. But this night, you wouldn’t have hated companionship, someone to hold you tight and tell you that you were safe here.

“You can’t say that, Anakin! Do you understand the gravity of this situation? Do you?” Obi-Wan had never shown his anger so outwardly before. Anger marked his brow, his furious stare, his clenched jaw, and his haunting tone.

Anakin could sense his fear, despite the rage his friend used to hide it. They both understood that what Anakin had done was enough to have him sent to hell for all eternity. Their father was not so lenient of the angelic hosts as he was of humans. The humans were free to sin, and forgiveness was offered to them at every turn. And yet somehow, they still missed the chance to ascend to the heavenly realms. Most chose to trade their vaporous lives for eternity. And the Creator allowed it because of free will.

“But it’s true, Obi-Wan. There’s nothing you can do,” Anakin said emotionlessly. The chains of light were clamped tightly round his ankles, keeping him grounded. Nothing can break them except for the Creator’s Will.

He was chained to the platform right outside the chambers of the High Council, like he was an animal on display. And to the rest of the heavenly host, Anakin was a creature of anomaly. Seraphim were respected for their unbreakable devotion to Him above all else, yet Anakin wished for nothing more than to leave his place of honor. He wanted to be able to visit the Earth realms. He wanted to seduce you.

“I will try to change his mind,” Obi-Wan said to him with all hope. “He is more understanding than you give him credit for.”

With that, Obi-Wan disappeared. His wings were so quick that he moved almost at light’s speed. And Anakin was alone again in his humiliation. But he didn’t mind because now he could give you all his attention. He watched you as he always did. But this time he was not pleased by what he saw.

Never had he seen you so unhappy. He’d never witnessed you cry for anything but joy. The visions you saw in your sleep. You believed they were nightmares, but he saw the demons torturing your mind as clearly as he could see you below. Your good-for-nothing guardians were evidently too busy to cast them away. Anakin would do that for you, but he was in a bad place as it was. Interfering with your life again wouldn’t be prudent. If the Creator did not eliminate him, Obi-Wan certainly would. So, this time, he did as he should, and he merely observed from a distance, watching you cry your eyes out and writhe in pain only felt by your spirit.

The more he watched the heavier his own spirit weighed. If your guardians had served you faithfully, then you wouldn’t be left understandably traumatized from the event. It was almost too hard for him to watch you this way. But he couldn’t leave you alone like this. Even if you didn’t know he was there. He couldn’t let you out of his sight.

And as your pain grew deeper, so did his hate for those who failed in their calling to protect you. Unlike the other angels, Anakin struggled to contain his hate. No one who harmed you was free of his wrath. Certainly not your guardian angels.

The heavens erupted into chaos. Anakin had lost himself to his own wrath. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had been punished for saving you from being violated, and those who failed in their duty to protect you were left completely unscathed. And for someone who already, secretly despised the entire heavenly host and whose hatred was like a forgotten thorn in one’s side festering for ages, obliterating your five guardians in one hailstorm of fiery rage was as simple as taking a breath for him.

Instantly, he was reprimanded by the Creator directly. In a single moment, ejected from the heavenly realms, banished to dwell upon Earth until the end of time. Hell, where he would now spend eternity, was his final destination. The mercy of the Creator saved him from being sent there first. Earth was to be his Sheol, a temporary hell.

But did they forget that his interests lie only with you. Did they fail to notice that this might be what he wanted all along? Even if he only had until the end of time with you, he knew that it would be worth it. Though you were unaware at this time, nothing would keep him from you. The laws of heaven no longer applied to him. He was free to torment the earthly beings, though that wasn’t nearly as alluring as possessing you.

 Banished from Heaven and sent to Earth, he lost his heavenly title, and his name was written among the fallen. He kept his beauty in full, but now as an angel of light. And despite having wanted this to happen, being reprimanded so heavily over what he saw as the right thing to do irked him. And the pain that he felt you living through as a result of your guardians’ inadequacy ignited his fury in ways devastating to the Earth. 

His rage awoke nature’s spirits. Thunder, Lightning, Rain, and Hail terrorized the inland villages. He disrupted the seas, wreaking havoc on coastal cities, leaving them destroyed in his wake. And nothing was put in place to stop him.

The voices of the High Council rang in his ears as they pleaded with him to end his madness. But Anakin was drunk on power, the lack of restraint he now possessed, for the fallen were given domain over the Earth for a time of unknown length. He didn’t believe in redemption. His thought was why not enjoy it here. The earthly realms were to be his last Heaven.

For weeks, the destruction by Anakin’s fury continued.

Obi-Wan was sent to stop and contain him. But Obi-Wan believed, perhaps foolishly, that Anakin’s heart could be changed.

The cherub appeared before him, glory to glory, withholding nothing. And yet the majesty of the fallen one was still unmatched.

“You know why I am here,” Obi-Wan announced, wielding his fiery blade, directing its point to the enemy.

Anakin could not cower in the presence of the threatening blade. That was beneath him. “Do I?”

“Given more time, Earth and its surrounding realms will be destroyed. This lust for power has consumed you.”

He was not blind to his own faults. But under his own authority, he could do as he pleased. Destroying this realm would be good. Nothing good has come from mankind. Not in his eyes. From his view, he could see the suffering humans enacted upon each other and upon the Earth, the very thing which provides them life. The only good in this world was you. And he had plans to sweep you away. Far away.

“The one that you love. You’re going to kill her. She will hate you.”

Anakin gave him a biting glare. If Obi-Wan knew... then that meant so did He. And the rest of Heaven. “I’d never hurt her. I can see her now. She’s sleeping. She doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“What do you think will happen when you destroy her life? Everything and everyone she cares for? You don’t think that would hurt her?”

“Obi-Wan, you have no idea! Did you see what happened to her? What almost happened? I live through her pain. I want to save her from evil. Can you not understand?”

The cherub refused to back down. His blade was still held high. “This is not up for debate. I have been sent to put an end to your insanity one way or another.”

Anakin smiled wickedly. “Oh... by killing me?”

“That depends on you, my friend.”

Anakin did not understand.

“Our Father wishes to offer you a deal. He has changed his mind on your punishment. But...” Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head, “only if you put an end to your anger now. It is not the Creator’s Will for the Earth to be done away with yet.”

In order to declare his interest, Anakin immediately paused his merciless pillaging of the surface. “I am listening.”

In return, Obi-Wan sheathed his blade of fire. “He knows how strongly you care for this human.” His voice was coated with disgust for the lesser being. “He knows exactly what she means to you and what you’re willing to give up for her. In his divine grace, He is willing to make an exchange with you. Give up your dominion over this realm, and he’ll allow you to be her guardian, though not an angel. But your eternal status, depends on how well you serve her.”

This offer was... merciful.

Beyond what Anakin knew he deserved. Not only was he being offered a chance for redemption, but he was being offered the one thing he craved most in the entire universe. As your guardian, he would have unbridled access to you and your beautiful mind. At his discretion, he could even appear to you, making his existence known to you.

Being known by you...

The thought of that was more than even he could process in all of his great understanding.

He was used to being veiled from you completely. Contact had been forbidden. But with this offer, you would be in his grasp. He could travel between dimensions and allow his glory to be witnessed by your perfect gaze. Anakin could not stop his curiosity at what it might feel like to be seen by you. Would he prefer it? Or would he dislike the contact? His intuition whispered that he would like it very much and that he might even find it addicting.

How could he say no?

“I... accept.”

Obi-Wan did seem surprised in the slightest. “I see. I will inform Him of your decision. You will feel weakened very soon. I understand that... you wanted this. But I don’t understand why. You-you, Anakin, held the position of the highest honor. Why would—”

“I never wanted any of it. I wanted to be free to pursue my singular interest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I would be cautious in your new role, Anakin. More than ever before. Because this is a test. Did you believe that you were truly going to get everything you wanted without a cost? If you serve her faithfully all her life, an eternity with us is yours. But the temptations you will face as her guardian, I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“What?” Anakin spat. “Protecting a human is practically a mindless affair. That’s why it’s given to the lowest of all angels.”

“Realize that even that group is superior to where you stand currently,” he added humorously.

“I won’t be able to physically harm humans in this form. So, don’t worry. I won’t kill anyone.”

“That was not the temptation I was referring to.”

Anakin realized what his friend meant. So he quipped, “Lust is a human feeling.”

“Is it?”

“What do you mean, is it?” Anakin said mockingly.

“Do not be quick to assume anything. You’ve never been in the earthly realms before. It’s much different. You may find yourself desiring things that seemed unnatural to you before.” Obi-Wan turned, signaling his departure. “Remember the laws of Heaven. Despite your fallen state, if you wish for eternity in Heaven, where she will most certainly end up, you must abide by our laws.”

Eternity in Heaven with the one he craves. There was hardly a better fate in mind even if he never ascended to the honor he once claimed.

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[ohtobeleah]

California Fornication //

Two — ‘Odds Are?’

Summary: In the wake of Roosters belligerent act of violence, you try your best to remain calm. But if anything Jake Seresin showing up in North Island is only just the beginning of a whirlwind shit show.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst.

Word Count: 2.7k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I lied—“ You could remember it all too well, the moment you felt at your weakest. Your most vulnerable. “I’m not out of this relationship.” A week ago your entire world had come crashing down when the man you loved turned out to be married. You’d told him you were out. Point blank, end of discussion. But you weren’t.

“Siren—“ Bradley sighed as he looked over your shoulder to where his wife stood watching the interaction unfold from the veranda of the Hard Deck. “We can’t, not here.” 

“I’m in.” You didn’t care that she was watching, you needed to get this off your chest. “I’m so in it’s humiliating because here I am begging.” 

“Y/n—“ Bradley tried to interrupt but you held your finger up. Stopping him from saying anything more.

“Shut up, you say Y/n and I yell remember so why don’t we skip the yelling and I just tell you how I really feel?” 

“Yeah—“ Bradley sighed as he pocketed his car keys. “Yeah okay.” You took a breath in and exhaled slowly. Ready to wear your heart on your sleeve. 

“Here it is.” You tried your best to remain as calm as you could. “Here’s your choice, Rooster.” It was just you and Bradley, out by his Bronco under the festoon lights that lit up the car park of the Hard Deck. “Your choice? It’s simple—her, or me.” It was clear cut and dry. No one way around the fact. “And I’m sure she’s really great, but Bradley I love you.” 

It wasn’t the first time you’d said it without Rooster saying it back. You just thought he needed more time, but as it turned out he was already married. Perhaps it was a good thing after all he’d never said it back. It would have hurt more to know he did than to wonder if he ever did at all. 

“I love you in a really really big—pretend to like your music kind of way.” You had to hold yourself together so that the tears welling in your eyes didn’t stream down your cheeks as you pleaded with the man who’d made you fall in love with him to choose you. “I love you in a let you have the last silence of cheesecake kind of way—a sit beside you pretending to be interested in learning how to play the piano unfortunate kind of way that makes me hate you, yet love you kind of way.” You admitted as Rooster just started at you with an unreadable expression. “So pick me, choose me, love me, please Bradley.”

The silence was as loud as it could have been. And in those silent seconds that passed. You knew. 

“I can’t, I’m married Y/n.” Five words were all it took for Bradley Bradshaw to rip your heart through your chest. “I’m sorry.” 

It was the hardest thing to hear, and yet it still played on repeat throughout your mind all day and all night. You just weren’t good enough. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“What the hell is your problem!” 

“Eleven years!” Bradley hissed as you shoved him out of the Hard Deck and onto the front porch. “Eleven years we were married!” He rambled on as you watched Rooster place the makeshift ice pack Penny had made him over his knuckles. 

You stood leaning against the post by the stairs he’d just walked down—watching with your arms crossed over your chest as he paced up and down the sandy gravel pathway. 

“That means eleven sets of birthdays, Christmas’s and thanksgivings, Siren! Eleven wedding anniversaries!” It was clear that Bradley was enraged. “He doesn’t get to just show up again after what he did!” But it wasn’t all those memories that were tarnished by an affair that had made Bradley Bradshaw risk his career by breaking his hand on the jaw of the man who slept with his wife. 

No. 

It was the way he saw your eyes light up with a mischievous glint while you laughed with Hangman that had him making strides over to where you sat. 

Bradley wasn’t about to let Jake get his dirty hands all over you too. Fuck his marriage and fuck his wife. He’d made a mistake letting you go. Letting her back into his life when he’d just begun to heal. He should have chosen you. He loved you. Truly. But marriage still meant something to him. Enough at least to try just one more time. 

“Rooster, I’m not the person who you should be talking about this with, talk about it with your wife.” You sighed defeatedly, like you were still being strung along by an invisible string that connected your heart to his. All you wanted was to hold him. To feel his arms wrapped around you. To laugh with him again, to feel that warm warmth he brought to your life. But instead all you felt was a coldness, a temperature so cool it burned to the touch. Leaving you alone, forever the other woman. The mistress. 

Club of one. 

“Penny wants you to go home and sleep it off.” Katie groaned as she stomped out of the Hard Deck. She made no attempt to acknowledge your presence as she walked right past you and down the front steps. “How’s your hand?” She asked as you watched the clearly distressed couple argue. Wondering when the divorce papers would come flying out of Roosters back pocket. 

“What’s he doing here Kate?” Bradley growled. Her hand came to rub small circles against the small of Rooster's back. She helped to guide him over to where the Bronco was parked. Against his will—he moved. 

“How the hell should I know?” She replied sharply. “Please, let’s just go home and talk about this.” 

You didn’t stay out of the decking for much longer. You could hear the sound of Jake's nose cracking under the force of Roosters fist in your mind over and over again. Enough that you felt a little guilty for possibly being the reason he was gushing blood. 

“Where’s—?” You didn’t even need to say his name before Penny was gesturing over towards where the bathrooms were. With lips pressed into a fine line you nodded. “Thanks.” 

“He’s not all that bad of a guy.” She added before you could even begin to walk away. “I don’t know the full story but if I know Hangman it’s that under that thick layer of confidence, he’s just looking for a friend.” You listen with a small nod. Deciding you’d go check on the guy in case his septum was deviated. 

“Can I have a washcloth?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Rooster and I always did have the same taste in women.” It wasn’t hard to get lost in the clear emerald skies of Jake Seresins eyes as he sat up on the bench next to the sink in the bathroom of the Hard Deck. 

“Excuse me?” You asked softly as you worked to clean the mix of dried and fresh blood from his face. Gently dabbing away at the mess that trickled down his face with the wet cloth Penny had given you. Soaked in warm water—standing between Jake's legs as they dangled over the edge of the bench. 

You’d found Jake staring at himself in the mirror, probably trying to figure out if his nose was broken or not. When you entered the bathroom he was honestly surprised to see you. He thought for sure Rooster would have thrown you over his shoulder and taken you home. 

But it wouldn’t be the first time Jake was wrong about his best friend. 

“You’re Rooster's lusty Wingwoman right?” Jake asked as his eyes drank you in. Watching as you carefully studied every line, every little imperfect blemish on his face. He was beautiful. “I heard about you all the way out on the Pacific.” He explained. “You’re famous.” You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “The thorn in the side of the Bradshaws rekindlement.” 

Huh, that was a new one. You hadn’t heard that one before. It was actually quite poetic. 

“Well, I’ve heard about you all the way back here in North Island so I guess we have a lot in common.” No one ever spoke about Jake. Not Payback or Phoenix or Bob even. They all just pretend like he never existed. That he’d committed an act of utter betrayal. It was only after Bradley’s wife had come back to town that he told you everything. 

It was easy enough to see who’s side in all this they’d all chosen. But it wasn’t easy to understand why no one told you until you’d already fallen head over heels for a married man. 

“We’re just the dirty mistresses.” Jake teased as you gently worked away at the blood on his face. Immediately he was addicted to your laugh, the way you lit up the entire room when you did so. “Isn’t that right sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks at the term of endearment that slipped past Jake's lips. 

“I suppose we are Hangman, I suppose we are.” Jake was easy to be around, that was the first thing you made your mind up about. Sure, the whole questionable relationship with a married woman was still yet to be addressed but nevertheless. 

“My therapist says behind this rugged and confident exterior I’m— self destructive and self loathing to an almost pathological degree.” Jake grinned as you paused your movement, you held his head still in your cloth free hand in the comfortable silence that lingered for mere seconds.

“Hey, guess we do have a lot in common.” Why the hell did Bradley have to go and ruin such a pretty face? “Mine says the same thing.” Jake was thankful for your gentle touch, he was starting to think Rooster may have broken his nose. Only a trip to urgent care and time would tell. 

“You know it’s funny—“ Jake began as he watched you rinse out the blood stained cloth into the sink beside where he sat shirtless, blood stained the white T-shirt he’d once been wearing. “Bradshaw walks in on me naked with his wife, actually in the throws—“ You listened as you worked, running warm water over the cloth to not shock Jake's bruised and swollen skin when you went back to attending to his wounds. “And he just turns around and walks away.” 

You couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like. To watch two people you trust and love commit such an act of betrayal. You felt for Rooster, you did. But it didn’t change the fact he never told you until after his wife, Katie ‘South’ Bradshaw, was shaking your hand and labeling you the mistress in all this mess. 

Not to mention no one sold him out. Coyote, Fanyboy, even Bob had Bradley’s back. They kept his wife a secret. Kept his entire life a lie until it was unraveled before you in spectacular fashion. 

“But he so much as sees me talking to you? And I’m on the ground with a bloody broken nose.” Jake continued to explain what he thought was already the case. That Rooster was in love with you. Period. “Interesting, don't you think?” 

It didn’t require a engineering degree to put together what Jake was insinuating. 

“Doesn’t matter what Bradley thinks—he chose his wife, the woman he made vows to.” You’d decided in that moment you were done cleaning Jake's face but stayed standing between his legs. You made no attempt to remove his hands from where they had settled on your hips. “He doesn’t need to get defensive over who I choose to talk to, he doesn’t get to stake a claim when he’s married.”

“He might still be married but he’s not in love with her.” Jake sighed as he pulled you a little closer by your hips with just enough force to have you reaching out for stability. Your hands softly landed on his shoulders—the sudden sensation of your touch made Jake's skin prickle with Goosebumps. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked softly, intrigued by the chaos Jake seemed to bring with him. “Back in North Island?” Jake didn’t answer right away. He’d been too busy drinking in the expanse of your face. From the fine lines that littered your nose when you crinkled it to the way your eyes swirled like deep pools of hope and displeasure all in one. 

“I’m here for Katherine—“ Those four vulnerable words made you feel more understood than you ever had in the last few weeks. It felt like there wasn’t another soul alive that could relate to your situation. “Which is as dehumanising as it sounds but, she’s the reason I came back.” 

“You’re still in love with her?” You asked as you tried to access the swollen nose that Jake wore with regret. 

“You’re still in love with him.” Jake didn’t need to question it, he already knew it to be true. You didn’t look at someone the way you looked at Bradley even when you were trying your best to avoid the man at all costs. He knew that simply because he laid awake at night thinking about the woman he loved who’d kissed him the night her husband was in the hospital—laid up post Uranium mission. 

Jake should have stopped it, but he didn’t. He just felt lucky enough to be loved in the dark. In secret. Because no one ever loved Jake Seresin first. 

And even worse, Jake was still in love with the very woman who’d spun the narrative in her favour. That he’d been the one who initiated the affair. But it hadn’t been him. It was her. 

Ignorance is bliss so they say. So Jake kept his adultering mouth shut and let the lie run its course. Turns out little white lies do hurt. He lost his posting, his best friend, the woman he loved, everything. 

“She won’t choose you, you know.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold, so as you spoke you ran your fingers through his deep blonde locks. Bringing a touch starved man some solace. “Rooster isn’t the kind of guy you leave if you can help it.” And boy did Katie stick to her husband’s side like superglue. 

“Yeah—” The corner of Jake's mouth twitched as he thought to himself. Leaning into your comforting touch as his eyeline slowly faded into the tiles on the ground. “But what if you’re wrong?” He sighed deeply, still staring at the ground beside where you stood between his legs. “What if, just this once, life comes down on the side of the dirty mistresses?” 

Suddenly that club of yours, the one with only one member, had two members in total. The dirty mistresses club. Party of two. You and Jake Seresin. 

“Pretty unrealistic, don't you think Seresin?” You chuckled softly as your eyes lingered to Jake’s lips. Slightly parted and plump. His eyes caught yours when you looked back to him and he had to stop himself. He couldn’t—could he? Because what were the odds he’d ruin two of Bradley Bradshaw's relationships? “Us adultering whores never get what we want.” 

“What if we decided to change what we wanted?” Jake asked as he closed the gap left between the two of you. His hands worked to guide your hips closer to him and before you knew it? Your lips were pressed against his. 

It was heavenly. The way Jake's lips felt against yours. Supple and soft and full of lust. His hands worked to cup at your cheeks as you begged him for more. Slipping your tongue into his mouth as you carded your fingers through his blonde locks. It was everything and nothing all at the same time. 

No one held a claim on you, you were free to make your own dumb choices now. And as your hand slipped down between the pair of you to softly land against Jake's jean clad crotch? He groaned into your mouth and bit your bottom lip. 

“I don’t even want to think about the consequences of this.” Jake whispered into your mouth as you palmed him through his jeans. “I think he’ll actually kill me.” 

“So don’t think.” You replied as you sunk your teeth into his neck. “Just do me.” 

As it turned out, those odds seemed pretty fucking high.

***~***~***~***~***~****~***~****~***~***~***~***~

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Later’s better than never… right?

Ten years ago, Simon and you met at the same therapeutic boarding school. You fought, he said some shit, he left. He thought he’d never see you again.

Until one day, a hospital calls and informs him that you’ve listed him as your emergency contact.

(title from the song by Lana Del Rey)

-

Tags: mental illness, abuse, addiction, self harm, suicidality/suicidal ideation/suicide attempts, angsty shit in general, Ghost being very mean as a fucked up 17 year old boy

There’s an old battered flip phone he hides in the back of his locker wherever he’s deployed. Ghost doesn’t turn it on all that often. Everyone who knows the number is dead.

But sometimes he does, just to stare at the contacts and click through the photos and remember what it was like to talk to them.

Today is one of those days.

He can only take so much talk from his team about families, friends, dogs waiting back home, and pretty girls before feeling the urge to break things.

So he excuses himself to hide in the bathroom like a fucking pussy and takes the phone with him. Simon can pretend he’s waiting for his own phone call from people who love him for a few minutes. Then he promises himself that he’ll put it away and not touch it for another six months.

It takes forever to power on. It’s still janky from the last time Ghost threw it at a wall, it seems.

One (1) missed call.

…What?

They left a voicemail.

His fingers shake as he listens to it.

There’s a long, tinny beep. “Hi, Mr. Riley, I’m…” A woman says in a rushed, businesslike manner. “I’m one of the nurses at-“ Ghost hears a bustle of background noise; faint murmurs, emergency sirens, doors sliding open and shut. “…Hospital. I’m calling because a friend of yours,” The nurse says your name. A name he hasn’t thought about in years. “…Put you down as her emergency contact when we admitted her to our psychiatric inpatient ward. Unfortunately, she did not provide us with anyone else. Please give me a call back at this number if you’d like to speak with her.” Click.

Ghost starts packing an overnight bag before he even realizes it.

Then he’s on a plane.

-

TEN YEARS AGO

“I hate you.”

You’re crying as you run after him in the forest. He speeds up, trying to lose you in the trees. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon. I’ll never bring it up again.” Snot covers your upper lip and your eyes are bright with tears.

He hates this fucking place. He hates this fucking school, the kilometers of wilderness separating him from his life because the fucking shrinks think he’s crazy. He hates you for trying to keep him here.

And just when Simon was about to fly the coop, you spilled the beans. “Leave me the fuck alone. Never, ever, ever talk to me again,” He barks, stopping abruptly and turning to loom over you.

When you reach for his hand, he slaps you away. “But you promised you wouldn’t leave-“ You end up on the ground, the pine needles biting into your bare knees as if Simon shoved you.

That makes him angrier. You’re too soft for a world like this. You’re practically begging for someone to hurt you again, someone like him, with your vulnerability and open, bleeding heart. Well, he’ll fucking oblige. You’re not strong like you think you are. You’re the weakest person he knows, and weakness is something Simon could never respect.

“I lied. I fucking lied, you dumb bitch. Didn’t you realize it?” Simon snarls, wishing desperately he’d never let you befriend him on his first day at this therapeutic program.

You're sunshine and innocence and friendship bracelets, the kind of girl who will always be a victim because this world devours little girls like you. Simon is nothing like you. Simon is a survivor. A warrior. Simon is steel where you are china.

Your American accent is almost as unbearable as your pathetic weeping. “…What?” Your bottom lip wobbles.

Hopefully this will teach you a lesson about tattling. Nobody likes a snitch. “Forever doesn’t fucking exist. You were the only tolerable person in this shithole, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be friends forever. What are you, a fucking infant? God, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” If anything, Simon is letting you off easy. You told the counselor things Simon told you in confidence about his dad because you were ‘afraid for his safety.’

But you just don’t get it. Simon can’t spend another day here. And the longer he stays, the angrier his dad will get. You just earned him another week of shit and black eyes.

“Newsflash. People lie. Everyone’s been lying to you. Nobody likes you, not even your mum. And I can’t stand you. You were useful, but I don’t need you anymore. I’m better,” Simon hisses as cruelly as he can, using every blade in his arsenal to cut at the sensitive parts of you where he knows you’ll bleed. Just like you did when you told.

You’re only stuck in this place because your mum left you here. You don’t have anyone, not like he does. He has Tommy and his mum. He has a future. You’ve got absolutely fucking nothing.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I’m getting out of here. I don’t need your help. I’d tell you to keep it, but it wouldn’t even help you.” Simon pauses. You’ve stopped crying. Good. A crying fox is easy prey for the hunting dogs. “They won't believe you. And you wanna know why?” It feels good to be the hunter instead of the fox for once. You make excellent prey.

“‘Cause I told them the truth. That you’re an obsessed freak who’s hyper fixated on me and you’d do anything to keep me here. That you’re a sick, compulsive liar and that you’re the one who’s a danger to herself, not me.”

You fall silent. Finally, blessed silence. You look up at Simon with glazed eyes and a still tongue. He feels better. Good, even.

“Goodbye. I hope I never see you again,” Simon says flatly.

-

TODAY

You picked a good place to get yourself locked up in. This is one of the nicest hospitals Ghost has been in recently. Shiny floors, no dirt caking the walls. New York City puts Kabul and Moscow to shame.

He’s wearing a plain black balaclava. Nothing identifying or particularly memorable. This is going to be a short visit. Ghost will see what you want and then leave. That’s it.

You look tired, exhausted to the very bone.

None of the shiny pinkness that drew Ghost to you in the beginning when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. None of the glow, the round cheeks, the wide doe eyes.

There’s dark circles chiseled into your face, so dark he almost thinks they’re bruises. A couple of IV bags run through a drip hidden under bandages covering your arms from wrist to elbow. Your eyes are as quiet as you are. A couple of marbles would be more lively. You look almost like a doll forgotten in a corner.

The nurse gave Ghost the run-down as she guided him to your bed. Police picked you up on a bridge trying to off yourself. Your fifth time this year. Unless you show some real improvement, the doctors will recommend an indefinite hospitalization.

You’ve been busy in the decade of his absence. Multiple addictions, more attempts than he can count, and some small stints in jail. A list of disorders he wouldn’t know how to pronounce. And nobody left to call.

Is this his fault?

When Ghost rounds the corner, you smile like he should be proud of you. “You came,” You say.

I have absolutely no business starting a new fic. Absolutely none. Idk. I have brainrot. No clue when this will be updated. But here, have it.

[cozzzynook]

I’ve been thinking of triple changer bee, hear me out now pls. I don’t have his origins nailed down yet but so far I got: he was originally forged as a seeker, but minibot style since the war was beginning and most of the resources were being taken up leaving only scraps. later, for some reason, he got a T-cog for a grounder alt mode and he refrained himself from using his flyer alt mode after. occasionally he does fly but rarely and on his own. he doesn’t have wings like other seekers do, instead his wings are extra durable armor on his frame (ex. his arms). but when he gets to earth and gains both alt modes he gets door wings because cybertronian cars don’t have doors.

why am I telling you this? because I think you’ll like it and if you have anything else to add onto this! like ships or anything, like what how do you think the bots bee’s close with would react to this small bug being a triple changer. love your writing!!

Thank you so much! Send as many asks or ramble/ideas as you like 🩷

I like this idea and him not using his seeker frame much despite being one before becoming a grounder is so cool and opens the door for me to say he was raised by the elite trine during the war and at that time sparklings were huge targets and weakness and seekers were being hunted since almost all of them joined the decepticon cause.

So Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp would teach Bee to only use his wings when with them in private so he wouldn’t be an even bigger target.

I’m putting my own spin on this saying Bee had what was considered a dysfunctional t-cog since he didn’t have typical seeker wings. Instead he had wings that resembled an actual bumblebee. His door wings would transform and fan out allowing him to take flight. His wings gave off the hum of an actual bee and he was quite fast in the air but he couldn’t reach the same feats regular seekers could but his small stature worked in his favor when it came to speed and agility.

He wasn’t used in the war since the trine didn’t want their sparkling in danger but he still wanted to prove himself and so he would sneak off to Megatron when he was old enough and the mech would give him the job of spying on the autobots.

At first Megatron only sent him to places that weren’t dangerous so he could keep the mini from actual harm since he would not have Starscream or the other two actually trying and succeeding in offlining him for endangering their sparkling.

It wasn’t until Bee had to hide in the lower bowels of autobot territory did he gather important information that later helped him become an actual spy and find a grounder t-cog that was added to his frame later on so he could blend in better.

The trine hated it but Bee was so happy he could do something and prove himself since he was so the smallest, youngest and weakest among their group.

No one really minded since he was the bitty of their ranks along with a few others but Bee did.

Bee had the typical seeker frame that was slender and no bulk with a blade in one arm and a small energy canon in the other. His carriers Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp hated the way his frame ended up looking like a femme when he fully became an adult mecha. Bee loved it but they hated it because they didn’t think any bot was worthy to look at their baby while Bee had to suffer getting spike blocked by his carriers and all the older bots who would shove the mechs his age away from him.

Bee loved his carriers but he needed a moment, just a moment, away from them.

That moment turned into him being kidnapped and taken as a “survivor” in autobot clutches.

Bee immediately commed his carriers and Megatron only to see Longarm who he knew was actually Shockwave in disguise. He managed to find a moment alone with the shape changer and reveal a hidden servo code in case the mech didn’t know who he was.

“I know exactly who you are little bee. I’ve already alerted your carriers and Lord Megatron of your location just as you have. You were smart to do so but not smart to go off on your own like that.”

“Im a grown mecha I can have a moment alone!”

He had little flicks of electricity dancing between his horns at his frustration and Shockwave didn’t make it any better when he laughed calling him a sparkling.

“That may be, but you are still a youngling at spark.”

“Ugh!”

The plan was to get Bee to a certain location so the cons could grab him but the autobots snatched Bee when Shockwave was busy at a council meeting and took him onto the command ship lead by Sentinel Prime and Jazz who has held Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Bulkhead and Prowl along with Jetfire and Jetstorm.

Bee wakes up to his carriers frantic comms and Shockwaves massages along with Megatron demanding his status.

He immediately shares optic feed with his carriers out of fear because he’s never been away from them, not like this. Not since they found him at the hot spot waiting for their cna to make complete him.

He sheds a few static fluids trying to put on a brave face plate only to be completely terrified by the two mechs Jazz and Prowl sneaking up on him and asking if he was alright.

He’s not proud to admit he shrieked and swiped his claws at them before high tailing. He’s happy he at least did one thing in defense besides run but he was not proud to hide as he tried finding a data room to get coordinates to leave.

Thankfully his carriers and Megatron knew the system he was traveling and his carriers were on their way. But it would take years to get there without a transwarp, he told them as much and all three of his carriers were foaming at the mouth at the realization they had to leave him to get back home himself.

“I’ll come back to you…I promise..I’ll gather any intel that could be useful while playing my role. Any luck and I can make my way back to him on Cybertron.”

They knew who bee meant and they still didn’t like it but Bee tried to put on the front of a brave soldier and Megatron respected him enough to humor it even if he was shaking at the vocalizer.

“Please don’t forget me,” he whispered before he cut transmission off and stood.

Luck was on his side because autobots never knew his existence thanks to careful crafting and his amazing gift of espionage despite his loud mouth and colorful frame. He really was one of the best spies the cons had to offer and he trained under the best with watchful optics from his carriers.

But now he was a grown mech on his own and it was time he grew up.

“Kid, I know you’re scared but we won’t hurt ya. We just wanted ta check on ya,” Bee jumped in surprise at the sound of the older mech so close to him.

He looked behind himself to see all the mechs on board giving him a sympathetic gaze and he hated it.

He had knowledge on who each bot was in the room and the one he truly disliked was the aft head making his way towards him with a frown on his face and a pipe up his exhaust port.

“Don’t go causing any more trouble just because you’re scared civi. Got it!”

He wanted to upper cut the spikeless mech but the one named Optimus stepped forward quite literally pushing Sentinel out of the way and bending a little to speak to Bee politely.

“We should’ve had a better plan and someone friendly like Bulkhead here to greet you when you woke but we were preoccupied. I apologize for the panic we’ve caused you. Please, ask any questions you’d like and I’ll do my best to answer.”

“Please don’t bend down to talk to me I’m not a new spark I’m almost a two million years old.”

“Not a new spark my aft,” Ratchet grouched smirking.

If he didn’t remind Bee of a grandsire he’d be fuming right about now.

“I’m sorry for that,” Optimus’s helm fins moved back in embarrassment and the one named Jazz slung an arm around Prowls waist, probably conjunx judging from the familiarity, as they came a little closer.

“Names Jazz, this here’s my spark Prowler,” “—Just Prowl,” the black and gold mech cut in, “that there’s Bulkhead best space bridge tech in all cybertron, Ratchet the best medic in Cybertron, thee Optimus Prime, the twins Jetfire and Jetstorm and the loveable aft Sentinel.”

“Thats Sentinel Prime, captain of this pitiful crew and ship to you lieutenant Jazz.”

Bee could think of plenty of ways to make Sentinels offlining look like an accident but he couldn’t chance it with Ratchet here. That mech would find it and he’d be screwed.

“Where am I and why am I here?”

“We’re heading to a comrade planet and we were told to bring you along because high command couldn’t chance the cons coming after you.”

“What? Coming after me?”

What they took as fear was really Bee hurt that he couldn’t have left sooner.

“Seems some dangerous cons were skulking around to bring you back kid,” Ratchet answered for the group.

“Yeah, a real dangerous group lead by a femme named Strika,” Bulkhead spoke nervously.

“We agreed it best to bring you for your safety and we’re glad we did. An extremely dangerous mech managed to get through some of our best elite guards. He was almost…point is..young one, we’re glad we got to you and left on time.”

Optimus spoke to him in a tone that would be comforting if thats what his situation required. But as it stands he didn’t need their comfort, he needed freedom to return home and the knowledge he was so close yet ripped from it while recharging left him feeling a piece of his spark tear.

“What..what was their designation?”

They looked nervous to say but one spoke up.

“A triple changer by the name Blitzwing tore his way through. He was adamant about getting to you. He wouldn’t stop following us until we jumped through the space bridge. After that received word he was erratic before leaving.”

Bee couldn’t stop himself from dropping to the floor boards staring at nothing.

Blitzwing…

Blitzwing came for him..

He ignored his carriers embarrassing rejections of never being allowed near their sparkling.

He went out on his own to find him.

Blitzwing.

The one mech who always made him laugh and left his favorite flowers on his berth cushion every week.

The same mech who made him helm crystals by servo.

The same crystals he’d kept tucked away in his locked subspace for fear of them being taken or broken.

Blitzwing..Blitzwing came looking for him and only left because he had to.

He still felt for Bee.

And now he may never get to see the mech again.

“Blitz…”

The other’s took his response as fear but his spark cried out for the only one he wanted.

As they tried to get through him, his resolve solidified further.

He would get home.

-

[chasingfictions]

late s3 coffy is so crazy bc at first glance theyre like wow we are simply not going to let these girls interact after helpless because buffy is really busy with her other brunette shadow self right now but in fact cordy's whole pursuit of wesley is like.

okay you've been obsessed with a girl since she moved here three years ago and you wanted to be her best friend but she chose the freaks and weirdos over you. so you mock her for being a freak and a weirdo but in this way where you're always going out of your way to do it, and you always have this baseline awareness and jealousy of her, you are always trying to date the boys she dates, but it's just regular popular girl-weird girl antics right? it's just regular popular girl-weird girl she hates antics to go to her when you're afraid for your life, put your safety in her hands, and tell her i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down. and the week after that you become unwittingly aware of her secret identity and it makes sense to you so quickly, you enfold yourself into her world with such ease. but you're still not allowed to be friends with her. you start dating one of her weirdo freak friends though, and admit to yourself later on that you only dated him because of his link to buffy. you detach yourself from your popular girl friends and become totally ensconced in this girl's friend group, you're one of them now, you've thrown in your lot with her. but she still doesn't like you, and you don't like her, but not because you actually even necessarily dislike each other. i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down. but your personas are people who don't get along, because you're the popular girl and she's the weird girl. even though you're not popular anymore. even though you're just as weird as her now. even though she was popular too, at her old school. even though you hang out all the time. even though you're dating her best friend. you're still not friends, you're just people who can't stop insulting each other. and then her best friend cheats on you with the other best friend. and the girl tries to make amends with you, tries to tell you she can be there for you, that you're allowed to be friends, for real, you don't need the guise of dating her best friend for you guys to hang out. i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down. but you're so angry at her, because she's the reason you became weird in the first place, if she had never moved to town, you would never be like this, you would have everything you used to have, and she did all of this to you, and did it all without even liking you that much, and you didn't like her that much either, except you do, of course, and she likes you. but you guys can't say that to each other at the same time. there always has to be one of you pulling away. even though i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down.

and now you don't have a link to her anymore. you're not dating her friend. you've rejected her offer to be friends despite that. but you can't just ... not see each other. right? so you still hang around, to insult her, to trade barbs, to call her a freak, and even though you'll never gain back what you had before she made you lose it, it's okay, because she's still the weird one. not you. even though you still only talk to the weirdos. that's okay though. that's okay, because you still see her sometimes. i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down. and then when she's at her weakest, you're there for her, and you protect her, and she's always protected you, and now for one second, for the very first time, you are on equal footing.

and that doesn't mean you have a place in her life. you still don't see one for yourself. trying to be friends is too scary. and she has a whole new girl she's being antagonistic with now. but luckily, her new watcher moves to town just after this happens. so you attach yourself to him, so you can have a reason to stay in the girl's orbit. you're always around, but it's not about her. maybe it could be, but it's not, you just like her watcher, that's all. see, you're not even talking to her. you're just trying to form an emotional bond with the person who, as far as you know from the only other watcher she's ever had, is going to be a huge figure in her life from here on out. and you don't talk about it, but that's okay. because i know you share this feeling we have for each other, deep down.

and then you can't bear to stay in the town where she lives anymore but you also can't bear to not have anything to do with her so even though you don't talk anymore, you move to her hometown, and end up working side by side with her ex boyfriend and that same ex watcher and fighting demons just like she does, forever, for the rest of your life

[larluce]

Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU

@dsabian , @theplatanitosqueal , @stressed-but-chill , @gregre369 , @chaosofbelievers , @thelordofabsolutelynothing , @another-tblr-fangirl , @aceauthorcatqueen , @smileytrinity , @tiny-and-witchy , @wako-weirdo , @a-very-tired-ravenclaw , @schiwalkers-ineffability , @natsu2501malo , @dearfuturelyn , @thedollopheadofcamelot , @yougottobekittenme , @your-local-asylum-escapee , @theroundbartable , @alo-ween , @orliththedragon a little more of Merlin's perspective

LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 (You're here), PART 12

Somewhere in the woods. Merlin in his bird form lands in a tree branch where an older female merlin is.

Elder female: Oh, darling! 😊 Haven't seen you in a while. Do you have a nest already?

Merlin: For the 10th time, I'm NOT a female. (sighs in bird) But I do have a nest now.

Elder female: Oh, that's wonderful! 🥰 I'm so happy for you, dear! When did you mate? 👀 Who is this male of yours? 😏

Merlin: I don't have a mate.😒

Elder female: Oh, my feathers! Did he... did he die? 🥺😭

Merlin: No! I never had... (sighs in bird again) The father of the chicks died, yes.

Elder female: In your very first nest! It must have been so hard for you.🤧

Merlin: It was... That's why I need advice. I don't know a thing about breeding. I incubated them, but now that the chicks are getting out of their shell I don't know with what frequency I need to feed them or if I should give them meat right away. I asked around and all females said you're the best in that area.

Elder female: Well, of course. I had 8 nests with 8 different males. But I'm surpised you need any help at all. A female usually knows what to do by instinct.

Merlin: I'm not-I'm pretty new to this, please tell me what to do. (points his claw that has a bird he recently hunted) I'll pay you for the troubles.

Elder female: Keep that for your chicks, dear. You shouldn't have left your chicks alone in the first place! They still need incubation and protection!

Merlin: Oh, a friend of mine is helping me with that. Don't worry.

Elder female: (very surprised) Really? What unusual... Well, this is all you need to know.

...

Another day, Merlin visits Elder female again.

Elder female: Darling! How are your chicks?

Merlin: All five are healthy. One has the tendency to try to jump constantly out of the nest though and the youngest seems scared all the time and doesn't fight for food like his siblings, is that normal?

Elder female: Of course! Not all the chicks are fit to survive.

Merlin: ... What? 😧

Elder female: The reckless ones and the weakest ones usually die before they learn how to fly, that's how nature is.

Merlin: No! They won't die! 😡 I WON'T ALLOW IT!

Elder female: Oh, the denial of a female in her first nest. I forgot how it felt.

Merlin: I'm not-That's not why I came here really.

Elder female: Why did you come then, dear?

Merlin: I... I'm interest in someone. (blushes in bird) A male. And I think he likes me too. I... I want to be with him.

Elder female: (gets sad) Oh, dear...

Merlin: What?

Elder female: You have no choice then, you must get rid of your chicks.

Merlin: WHAT?! 😨

Elder female: Don't worry, you'll have more chicks with your new mate.

Merlin: (horrified) I won't do that! That's horrible!

Elder female: Do you want to be with this male?

Merlin: Yes, but I don't have to kill my chicks to do that!

Elder female: A male will never mate with you if you have chicks that are not his own.

Merlin: Then I'll wait til they learn how to fly!

Elder female: By then he'll lose any interest in you and he'll hate you for choosing your chicks over him. I know it's difficult, dear, but it must be done.

Merlin: He is not like that!

Elder female: Really? Has he asked you to mate with him yet?

Merlin: ...

Elder female: Just think about it, dear.

...

At night in Arthur's chambers. Arthur is sleeping on his bed and the chicks are sleeping snuggling close together in the nest on the window. Merlin in his bird form looks at the 4 day old chicks while they sleep.

Merlin: (heart broken, thinking) I was so naive... For a moment I thought we all could... But that's not possible, is it? Arthur will never love you. Why would he love the chicks of the male he killed? He's helping me just out of guilt and obligation. You're just birds to him... And I have to choose. (looks at Wary) You are the weakest one, you're going to die anyway, that's what she said. (About to grab him with his claw) I... I can do it... I-

Wary: (opens his eyes, sleepy, and chirps quietly) Mama? 🥺

Merlin: (tears roll down his eyes) No... No! That can't be your first word! I'm not your mama! I'm not even a female!

Wary: Mama! 😄

Merlin: (screams in bird)

Arthur: (wakes up at the sudden noisy) Aaah! What is happening? (gets of his bed quickly) Merlin? Merlin! (turns to the window)

Merlin: (on the floor in his human form hugging the nest, crying his eyes out) I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I don't want you to die! I don't want any of you to die!

Arthur: (thinking Merlin had a nightmare, goes to him quickly) Merlin, Merlin, it's alright. (sits beside him and hugs him) It was a nightmare. The chicks are save.

Wary: (not recognising Merlin in his human form, thinking he disappeared) Mama? 🥺 Mama! 😭

Arthur: (comforts and holds Wary carefully) Shh, it's alright. Don't wake your siblings. (to Merlin) I'll make 5 sleep in my pillow, that usually calms him.

Merlin: You know you don't have to do this, right?

Arthur: (confused) Do what?

Merlin: (thinking) You don't have to pretend you like them for my sake. (says) I can manage on my own now. You don't have to care for them too.

Arthur: (snorts) As if! You can barely take care of yourself. (kisses Merlin's head) Get some sleep now. (stands up and walks back to his bed with Wary in his hand)

Merlin: I'm serious.

Arthur: Me too. Don't wake the other chicks. (puts Wary lovinly in his pillow) There you go, little one. (yawns)

Merlin: He'll poop your pillow again.

Arthur: I'll have the servants clean it and I'll tell them it was you.

Merlin: (sighs) Why do you do this? I don't understand.

Arthur: (turns serious) Because I care. Is that so hard to believe? (taps Wary's head fondly and smiles) Is impossible not to get fond of these little snowballs. (yawns again and lies down on the bed next to Wary) Good night (falls sleep)

Merlin: (puts the nest back on the window, thinking) You are my chicks, we are a family now. I won't let anything happen to you. And if Arthur doesn't accept you, he can go to hell.

...

After Arthur did the flying dance to Merlin and they got together. Merlin visits Elder female again.

Merlin: (more than happy, celebrating) I'm mated! 😄

Elder female: Oh, I'm so happy for you, dear!🥰 I'm sorry you had to get rid of your chicks though.

Merlin: I didn't.

Elder female: ... what?

Merlin: My mate acepted me with my chicks! 😊 We're breeding them together now... though we were already doing that way before we mated.

Elder female: Oh, I see. He must be one of those males.

Merlin: (confused) What males?

Elder female: The ones who don't have seed.

Merlin: ...

Elder female: You must be careful with those, dear. They can be quite agressive and possesive since they can't satisfy you completely or give you his own eggs-

Merlin: Goodbye, elder female. I don't think I'm going to need your advice anymore (thinking) Or ever in fact. (leaves)

...

Arthur: (in bed with the chicks on his lap, reading them a book) So the brave knight unsheathed his sword and pointed it to the dragon!

Chicks: (gasp in bird) 😲😲😲😲😲

Merlin: (sitting beside them, rolls his eyes, but then smiles fondly) You know they can't understand most of what you're saying, right? They just like the sound of your voice.

Arthur: Don't cut my inspiration, Merlin!

Guardian: (Points the picture of the knight in the book) Papa?

Merlin: Yes, that knight looks a lot like your papa.

Arthur: (confused) What are you talking about?

Merlin: Oh... uhm... the chicks call you papa sometimes. 😅

Arthur: WHAT?! 😧 Why didn't you tell me?! 😡

Merlin: It's pretty recent and we weren't mated yet, I didn't know if it would make you uncom-Are you crying? 😧

Arthur: (definitely crying) I'm not! 🥺 I just got something in my eyes 😭🤧

Merlin: (touched) Awww, Arthur.

Chicks: Papa! Papa no cry! 🥺😭🥺😭🥺

Merlin: Now they think their papa is sad.

Arthur: (comforts them) Papa is not sad. Papa is just very happy.

Merlin: Arthur, I think Wary pooped on the sheet.

Arthur: (ignores him, holding his chicks close, still too happy to care) Who is your papa? I'm your papa! 🤗

Merlin: Aaaand I lost him.

...

When Arthur said Merlin needed more human friends he was serious 🤦‍♀️. Oh, Merlin... Good you came to your senses.

To sheer you up a bit, here a video of Arthur holding his newborn chicks for the first time: