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mrsparrasblog · 1 month

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Makarov X Price Daughter pt.2

Pt 1 pt.3

You woke up with the worst headache of your life. Did you drink too much yesterday? You didn't remember drinking at all, only meeting the most handsome man you ever saw in your life who was interested in you and charming. When you slowly shifted in bed, you felt some difference. Your bed felt more comfortable and not so small anymore. It wasn't your usual twin-sized bed; it was a king-sized bed and very comfortable. Did you go to his place yesterday and forget?

You opened your eyes and gasped. This was definitely not your home. The room you stayed in was gigantic. The bed sheets were made of satin, and not the poor ones, but expensive satin, and they were pink. The whole room was to your aesthetic. Were you dreaming? You must have. You wiggled your legs away from the satin sheets, noticing the pajamas you wore. You didn't remember buying this. Just a dream.

As you jumped out of the comfortable bed, the dream turned into a nightmare. There were four military men pointing guns at you. "Куда, по-вашему, вы направляетесь?"

Russian. Your mysterious bachelor from yesterday was Russian too, but it couldn't be. He was so nice. You whined as you replied, tears streaming down from your face onto your soft cheeks. "Sir, I don't understand Russian."

They rolled their eyes at you and chuckled. They didn't speak with you, only gesturing for you to sit down and point their guns at you, and you obeyed. You remembered how your dad always told Tina, If someone points a gun at you, listen. He never told you anything about how to save your life in these kinds of situations. It is ironic to think that you were in this situation. You asked your dad once if he'd teach you how to shoot a gun, but he said things like that wouldn't be for girls like you, more for girls like Tina.

After sitting in the same spot for an hour, Vlad really entered the door. "Princess, were my guards too ruthless, or why do you cry?"

You couldn't believe how naive you were. Of course, a man like him had ulterior motives when he flirted with you. "Why are your guards pointing a gun at me?"

"Oh, Princess, are you scared?"

You only nodded and gasped when his reaction to your nod was to shoot one of his guards in the head. The blood splattered on the remaining two guards and on the soft white carpet. You were horrified. You had never seen someone get killed in front of you, and you were scared out of your life. He killed his own man without any remorse.

"Sorry, Princess, about the mess, but you don't need to be scared. I'll always protect you," he said with a sinister smile as if he really thought he was my protector, but he wasn't. He was a psychopath.

"Why am I here?"

"You know your dad pissed me off, and I wanted to teach him a lesson, but I'm a man of resources, and your ass is worth enough not to be killed. Besides, I'd like to see John Price begging to spare your life."

You didn't know why, but you laughed. You got kidnapped for your dad, who didn't even make time to come to your birthday, as if he had time to save you from Vlad. "I think you got the wrong daughter for that. That will be my death, and my father won't care enough to save the biggest disappointment in his life."

"Oh, Princess, I know that you think your daddy hates you and loves your ugly little sister, but want to know a secret?" He grinned, his eyes darkening.

You only nodded. You thought you didn't want to know, but you would agree with everything. Vlad didn't seem like the guy to tolerate your sassiness.

"Tina isn't his."

"What?"

"Yes, your annoying stepmom cheated."

"My life is a joke."

He screamed at you, "I don't tolerate negativity towards yourself. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Vlad."

"Good girl," he purred, nipping at your neck. He wasn't someone who showed care or ever felt affection before, but he was always possessive, never sharing, not even as a kid. So, this was his way to go: marking your neck, showering you with gifts, and showing everyone touching you would get them killed—and not in a merciful way. He didn't know why or what spell you put him under, but you occupied his mind. He was almost close to killing you for it, but he had better things in mind—more selfish things for you. "You know, my princess, I have big plans for you."

"It's beautiful," you said flatly, not wanting to satisfy him to much.

He grabbed your wrist roughly and walked you to a second room, a walk-in closet. How rich was this guy? There was everything you could have imagined—everything from your Pinterest board. And everything was straight-up luxury: Louboutins, YSL heels, Chanel dresses, Cartier jewelry, and a Birkin bag. Who is this guy?

"Is this—"

"I almost needed to kill someone for that stupid bag, but everything for you, princess," he said. The sound of his flickering tongue made your stomach grumble.

"You can't buy my love!" You screamed, your emotions pent up, and you started to cry again.

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you down into the basement of this mansion, showing you a dark and cold room. "Stop being ungrateful, or I'll let you rot here." He didn't need to prove anything. You knew he was ruthless by the way he killed his own men.

"I'm sorry, Vlad."

"Good girl," he purred, nipping at your neck. He wasn't someone who showed care or ever felt affection before, but he was always possessive, never sharing, not even as a kid.

So, this was his way to go: marking your neck, showering you with gifts, and showing everyone touching you would get them killed—and not in a merciful way. He didn't know why or what spell you put him under, but you occupied his mind. He was almost close to killing you for it, but he had better things in mind—more selfish things for you.

"You know, my princess, I have big plans for you."

"Kill me and send my corpse to my dad?" You said it sarcastically, and he smirked at your response.

"You know this is my empire, and every good empire needs its queen."

"No."

"Oh, you think you have a say in this? You will fall in love with me anyway, pathetic little girl."

He grabbed you and pushed you deeper into him, the tip of his finger gliding around your bottom lip, savoring the slickness from your trembling lips before kissing you forcefully. He wasn't a man who kissed without ulterior motives normally, always feeling disgusted by this. But right now, he wanted to claim every inch of you, showing you that you are indeed his.

Like a reflex, you leaned into his kiss, feeling the need to savor this moment. He could have only asked you out, and you would have agreed, but now you're his plaything.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran

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group-oc-tournament · 2 months

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Round 2 - Match 13

The Owl Gang

(@cliban, @radioactive-dragonlover, @wiz4rdtower, @citruslllad)

Consisting of Morise Superbia, Somnus and Illuvies

Who are They?

Imagine a sinister alien oligarchy but they're also the most toxic gay friend group you've ever met! Morise (they/them) is a ruthless dictator more interested in evil science than overseeing their outpost. They're a closeted theatre kid dragged into the friend group by virtue of everyone else being a theatre kid - They feel severely annoyed by interacting with the Owl Gang (But secretly will Always commit to the bit). Superbia's malewife (genderneutral). Superbia (she/her) is a bombastic and egotistical woman who does whatever she pleases with little to no regards for others. The kind of woman who calls you "darling" with a tone so sweet it feels like honey dripping from her mouth, but in a bad way. She adores messing with people and manipulating them with her charm and wits. She's surprisingly a tender, kind, and passionate lover, especially when it comes to her partner Morise, who she loves very much. Somnus (she/it) is a drowsy has-been who can only be dragged out of her lair by the promise of novelty. She's motivated solely by boredom, malice, or hunger, and hangs out with her friend Illuvies because of their shared love for doing bits. Depending on the day, her energy levels generally hover somewhere between "cat taking a nap in a sunbeam" and "sloth on half a Valium" Illuvies (he/him) is gay but in a misogynistic way. Tormented a toddler, severed numerous limbs and betrayed both sides of a war multiple times. A mole, a rat and a bitch all in one.

Mafia Dawgz

(@sai-nt)

Consisting of Prosciutto, Romanesco, Arrosticini and Maritozzi.

Who are They?

theyre a group of italian-food-themed mafia dog (creatures) that do mafia things, such as killing and bonding over trauma. they are tremendously skillful on their own, but they become tremendously incompetent when put in the same room! sure, they each have their deep, dark secrets they keep from the other: one's made a deal with the devil, the other has killed hundreds, and the other? they're actually *not* allergic to peanuts, they just don't like them. but in spite of that, they hate/love/tolerate each other... as a family! a! mafia family! (laugh track) (applause)

The Midnight Crew

(@knight-of-the-thorn, @guardian-instincts-bad, @fractal-quadrilioquy, @deadlock-fractals)

Consisting of Hiraeth, Versira Nightrise, and Ukki.

Who are They?

A DnD party consisting of Hiraeth, a one year old Tree made of goop who I am sure has commit several sorcerer war crimes at this point but can't be held accountable on account of being a little guy who charms and or confuses and or frightens every single npc, Versira, a Cat with Adhd who likes to see what the fuck is going on over there, has canonically commit warcrimes, Outgoing and outspoken and definitely not a spy, and Ukki, a grumpy botanist with a cool little robot friend trying desperately to corale everyone into saying alive. This team is part of a campaign set in the universe of Guild Wars 2, taking place during one of the first story arcs of the game, except the dm broke it and the party is going to make it worse.

#poll #round 2 #match 13 #Mafia Dawgz #The Owl Gang #The Midnight Crew

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interdisciplinary-disaster · 4 days

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Uuuh, I'm not going to ask about the rarepair one because I know it must be a secret, but are you willing to talk about any of the others? Only if you want to ❤️❤️

The rarepair is definitely not a secret in fact I already talked about it here!! Since you very kindly gave me free rein here I will use the excuse to ramble about the other, non-rarepair fic in the rarepair! doc (the "Mathieu is a witch" fic), because I kind of love it and wish more of it would be on paper instead of in my head. I started writing this for the weekly prompt "new" and then immediately realized it needed to be like 10x longer than what I had time for.

So imagine, if you will, an AU where 1. witchcraft exists, but 2. Wout does not. Mathieu grows up fully dominant in cyclocross and is sort of losing motivation to better himself so he comes up with this imaginary rival in his head. As the years go on, his daydreams get more and more elaborate--he gives his rival a name (Wout, meaning "ruler of the army", "ruler of the forest" according to his, and my, quick googling), what it would feel like to win and lose against him, and oops, what it would be like to kiss him, be held by him, etc.

The more obsessed he becomes with his imaginary rival, the more time he spends away from home, practicing witchcraft in the woods. He's always dabbled, because hanging out with the witches at the magic shop was a good way to avoid going home as a kid. But now, he has a plan. He knows it's theoretically possible to conjure new life, but that according to most people, it's one of the worst things you can do. Of course Mathieu's not going to bother to understand why--he's going to conjure Wout.

I imagine the conjuring/post conjuring scene are like super fucked up. Mathieu literally tore this man out of his brain and made him into flesh, and that's weird! Here's a snippet from the morning after...

And also like, he used to fantasize about Wout and nothing was stopping him from wanting to kiss him, touch him, fuck him, etc. But in the real world, there are boundaries, and Wout is a real person now with his own goals and desires etc. I definitely had a section on this specifically that I can't find now (it must be in another doc) where Wout is like "why do I want you? is it because you made me that way?" and Mathieu is like what have I done.

I was originally thinking about ending this fic immediately after the conjuring with a scene where the sinister consequences of his actions start to become clear, but I think the "what happens after" is too interesting to me. Like (1) how does Wout go from brand new sitting in the middle of a pentagram to actually being Mathieu's rival? (2) what happens when he does? This unfortunately requires more brain power than I have had lately so I have no concrete thoughts to share on it just that I think it's interesting!!

Anyway if you made it this far sorry and also thanks for reading my rambly thoughts! I would've loved to make this an actual thing (and I still want to) but unfortunately I don't really know entirely enough about witchcraft to make it happen, so it just lives in my mind and haunts me every day that I don't work on it!

#mathieu is a witch fic #maybe if i start again now i can finish it in time for halloween clown face emoji #also lol if anyone wants to help me out with the world building... i am listening #cycling rpf

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pixijelly · 2 years

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an assignment i must cope with

“The three readings this week agreed upon one simple idea: nearly everyone is capable of labor. Smith emphasizes the consistency of labor in which a participating member of society must contribute to the market, so as to embrace collectivism. A virtuous cycle begins. Marx shares a similar sentiment in that capital is limitless. There always exists a buyer and a seller, and I interpreted his critique as a comment on human limitations in their labor-power. Instead of naturalizing the idea of the market, he attributes it to a historical development in which commodities have gone through years of mistaken theory, according to Marx. Smith embraces individuals working together to build security in society while Marx critiques the means of production as an animalistic chase of money, which then relates to Weber’s essay on the protestants. They believe in sin, greed and money going hand in hand, but ultimately bending to the market. A question that I sat on while flipping through the readings stems from my ignorance of the philosophies in human motivation. If capital is limitless, not securely finite, how does one view equality when indulging in individualism? Rather than villainizing and attempting to stomp out the market, a focus on the individual in their natural instinct towards self-interest ensures a working market, but then exists those who fail to produce thus the struggle and crisis of capitalism begins. Are human limitations to be ignored?”

If you completely read my ramblings, you would understand that I know nothing at all. Purely auto-biographical and generic, but I can read across as ‘GOD CAN SHE SHUT UP!? She’s actually the worst, but she claims to be the best because she values THE SOCIAL LADDER.’ Whatever that means.

There are at least ten thousand hotter, more talented, greedier, more nihilistic, edgier, more profound ‘sad girls’ out there. I promise you, you are not the hot shit you so deluded yourself into thinking you are.

Because I look at you and see nothing but a pathetic attempt at redemption. So go on! Ignore my hand and seek out a bonier, more inviting hand as you see mine shake. Your outfit makes me cringe. My friends are cooler than you. We would spit on you if we saw you at Trans-Pecos. You would stick out like a sore thumb.

Perhaps I’m being too mean… But I realize that I’m not because I’ve met bitchier, more sinister little bitches. Except, I respected them as they wore cuter clothes than your long leather jacket. You must feel so NYC with that on. I don’t think I’m a bitch at all. Sure, I slink around the grimy gutters with a Marlboro Light, call myself a “Club Kid,” and stick around the DJs, but I am not at the same level of those bitchier, more sinister little bitches who wore cuter clothes. I am a step below, the writer who observes it all, and tucks it away for a later date. Like right now! As I type out this assignment I must cope with…

There is a greedy chase in this so-called ‘social ladder.’ It does not exist, yet everyone in the room realizes one thing when they talk to some Bushwick-ian looking freak, “What can they do for me?” When you enter some Dimes Square rooftop poetry reading, you sit back and wonder, “Did they get canceled? Does that make them more interesting?”

I have no clue at all what you can take away from this pathetic attempt at social commentary… Creative writing has been my ‘thing’ for awhile. Please don’t take that away from me… Just look at me and acknowledge that I’m fucking cooler than you. I am the micro-influencer you so desperately try to cling to.

This is creative writing and I did not mean a single thing I said, but I will post it anyway because I think you can laugh and roll your eyes with me.

Tell everyone about the horrible NYC take you read. Tell everyone about how I wrote a substack article on you! I am probably talking about you. Tell everyone about how delusional I am for even thinking this was okay! Afterall, I have no grasp on the human limitations on shittalking…

#writing #words

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aviewfromthecheapseats · 8 months

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They're Not Deplorables, They're Americans: How the Media and Democrats Dehumanize Trump Supporters

The 2016 election will be remembered for many things - the rise of Donald Trump, the candidacy of the first woman for President on a major party ticket, Russian interference - but it also brought to prominence a disturbing trend of dehumanization in American politics.

When Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton said at an LGBT fundraiser that half of Trump's supporters could be put into a "basket of deplorables," it set the tone for how the media and Democrats would go on to portray all supporters of the Republican candidate. Rather than engage on substantive policy issues and have good-faith debates on the merits of each side's arguments, a sinister rhetorical strategy took hold - paint the other side as so dangerous, depraved and less than human that they must be defeated at all costs.

This effort to dehumanize Trump supporters ramped up after his surprising election victory. Major media outlets ran articles analyzing whether Trump voters were motivated by racism, misogyny, xenophobia, or simple ignorance. Academics pontificated about the moral deficiencies of conservatives. Late night comedians and celebrities hurled insults, calling them hillbillies, neo-Nazis, and far worse. The underlying message was clear - these people are not like us, they are fundamentally flawed, and we don't need to listen to any of their concerns.

But stripped of the partisan rhetoric, who are Trump supporters? They are veterans and first responders who put their lives on the line to keep our nation safe. They are middle American farmers who work sunup to sundown to put food on our tables. They are single moms working two jobs just trying to provide for their kids. They are new American immigrants who came here legally because they believe in the American dream.

In other words, they are human beings. They deserve just as much respect and dignity as any other American.

So how did we get to a place where large swaths of the country feel comfortable hurling vicious attacks against their fellow citizens just because of who they voted for? There are a few driving factors:

Media bubbles. With the decline of local news and the rise of national cable and online news, many now get their information primarily from sources that confirm their existing biases. Consuming narrow perspectives makes it easier to demonize the other side.

celebrity culture. Huge Hollywood stars with platforms reaching millions now routinely mock and denigrate conservatives. This cynically plays on and amplifies existing societal divides.

Tribal identities. More and more, political parties are becoming crude proxies for deeper debates over culture and values. This makes compromise harder as politics becomes personal.

Social media. On Twitter and Facebook, outrageous and dehumanizing rhetoric gets rewarded with likes and shares, creating toxic cycles of outrage and division.

Sorting. As Americans increasingly cluster in ideologically homogeneous communities, many progressives have little contact with Trump voters in their daily lives. This makes stereotyping more likely.

Cynical politicians. Some ambitious Democrats likely believe dehumanizing rhetoric is an effective way to discredit opponents and energize their base. The ends justify the means.

So how do we get back to treating each other as fellow citizens again? A few ideas:

Have real conversations. Make an effort to have discussions with people who don't share your worldview. Don't just scream on Twitter.

Consume diverse media. Don't just seek out sources you already agree with. Expose yourself to different perspectives.

Call out dehumanization when you see it. Set a positive example by criticizing those on your own side who cross the line.

Appeal to shared values. Remind people of what unites us - love of family, community, country - instead of just focusing on differences.

Preach grace and empathy. Treat others how you would want to be treated if you were in their shoes.

Dehumanization is dangerous and tears at the fabric of our society. In these polarized times, we have to make an active effort to see the humanity in each other. Understand why someone supports a candidate, don't just dismiss them as evil. We all want what's best for our country and our families, we just disagree on how to get there. But we are all in this American experiment together.

At the end of the day, we are not just Democrats or Republicans, we are human beings. We are neighbors, coworkers, friends, and family. We all deserve to be treated with dignity and respect, no matter who we vote for. It’s time to turn away from dehumanization and towards decency.

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mrskittythulhu · 3 years

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Blue Flames of a One Night Stand

(18+) Dabi + (y/n fem)

part 2 part3 part4

www.wattpad.com

It was never meant to be like this. The one-night stand should have ended hours ago but some how the sun rose with you tucked in his arms. He just wanted a night to unwind with a few drinks and a quick release but somehow you came home with him and spent the night.

The light flowed in from the window between the holes of the old curtains. Your body curled up under his blanket trapping one of his arms underneath you like a pillow. Dabi took his free arm from over you to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After blinking a few times to adjust to the early afternoon light his gaze traveled over your sleeping form. Dabi smiled at himself seeing your ruined mascara streamed down your cheeks. Memories of your screams flicked in his mind.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. Dabi fell back onto the bed tossing is arm over his face with a low grumble. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still peacefully sleeping. Slowly he dragged his palm over his face in frustration.

Slowly he pulled his arm out from under you trying not to wake you. As you rolled away the blanket fell away from your chest revealing your perked nipples. Deep bite marks over your chest and neck reminded him of his actions last night in his drunken haze. Dabi’s cock twitched at the sight of you exposed. He softly watched you sleep on his bed for a moment before snapping himself out of his trance. Slowly he pulled the blanket back up over you before sliding out of bed.

Enjoying the feeling of the cold floor beneath his feet he took a step only to feel silky fabric bush across his toes. Looking down to the floor was the dress he burned off your body. A sinister smiled graced his lips at the memory of how the dress hugged your curves until his blue flames helped him rip the fabric from your body. He let out a groan as he picked up the burned fabric. When he stood back up, he began to feel painfully aware of his arousal. Letting out a huff of air from his nose Dabi made his way to the bathroom.

With a twist of the lock, he felt secure with in the small space. Quickly discarding your mini dress into the tiny trash bin. He was not sure what you would wear when you got up, but he tried to convince himself that it was not his problem. You should never have let him burn your clothes in the first place if you did not have anything else to wear home. His sadistic side absolutely loved the way his blue flames danced across your skin and how you moaned when he would use his quirk.

Leaning over the sink his eyes slowly trailed up to meet his reflection in the mirror. Your bright lipstick smeared over his own lips with matching kiss marks down his neck and chest. A ring of faint lipstick remained at the base of his shaft. Giving himself a slow stroke of his length with only the memory of how you took him deeply in your mouth in the dirty bathroom of the club last night. As his eyes made it back up to the mirror, he noticed that in the same lipstick color on his body was your name and number on the glass. Dabi checked darkly to himself knowing he had completely forgotten your name if he even bothered to ask at all in his drunken haze.

Dabi stopped his hand to reach for the shower faucet. Quickly stepping inside the shower to enjoy the cold water running over his burned shin. Dabi placed his left had on to the tile wall as his right began to stroke along his hardened length. The metal of his piercing rolled along his palming action. He began to breath deeply into the cold water that flowed over his face. Quiet curses and deep grunts escaped his lips at the memory of your body bousing on his old mattress. With a few final strokes his chest hummed as he found his release. Dabi’s mind began to clear as he watched the water swirl down the drain. With a deep breath he finally grabbed the soap and washed away the possessive love marks and dried bodily fluids you left on his body.

With a feeling of slight mental clarity Dabi walked over to his secondhand dresser. Aloud squeak from opening the drawer caused you to stir. Realizing you are finally waking up he quickly pulls out a pair of black jeans and old white shirt. Once clothed he reached to the top of the dresser for his cigarettes placing one in his mouth to light with his quirk.

Slowly he walks over to the bed. Seeing your bare bottom peeking out from the sheets with is handprint lightly branded into your skin began to fill his head with pleasant thoughts. ‘She left her number maybe she wants to meet again. Of course, she does, sluts like her love getting dicked down.’ The thought of you staying slowly turned into thoughts of his villainous life. ‘Wonder how that dusty Tomura would feel about her? He would want to share her as if that dusty virgin would know what to do with a piece of ass like that.’

The bed squeaked as he sat on the edge next to you. Leaning an arm over your body to hover over you he let out a puff of smoke away from your sleeping form. “Going to wake up at some point doll face?” Your face scrunched up as you let out a groggy groan soon to peak up at him with one eye.

“Coffee?” your voice comes out strained and scratchy.

“Ya, I got some,” there was a sarcastic chuckle in his voice, “anything else you want princess?” With a satisfied moan a smile crosses your face. You stretch your arms above your head and wiggle your body beneath him. You reach your hand over to clasp the hand Dabi held the cigarette with and pulled his cigarette into your mouth while he held it for a drag.

“Shower if you don’t mind.” You lock eyes with the bright blue that stole your attention all night. You were not sure what he was thinking but you enjoyed how intensely he was staring down at you.

“Water only runs cold princess.”

“Well after last night I could use a little cooling off.” Dabi frimly grabbed your ass cheek with a satified hum in his throat. You could feel a low heat from his palm made from his quirk. After a moment he release you. Standing up from the bed he put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the windowsill next to the bed. He started to walk to the door and your eyes followed his movement.

“If your going to eye fuck me this early in the morning, we could just go another round.” Dabi glanced up and down your barley covered body with a grip on his belt buckle as if he were waiting for you to invite him back over.

“Shower first need to get your kids out of my hair.” As Dabi tried to hold back his laughter you managed to roll out of his bed. His blue eyes drank in every curve of your naked body in the light of the day. The bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites and burns only made you look more attractive to him. “See something you like?” You say with a sarcastic tone as you bend over slowly giving him a full view of your ass while you pick up you purse.

“Just admiring my handy work babe.” You slowly strut across the room lust filled blue eyes follow your every step. You arch up on your toes to place a chase kiss on his lips. Tossing your bag over your shoulder you walk into his bathroom.

You walk into the kitchen hair wet and up in a messy bun. Glasses on your face because you needed to rest your eyes after wearing contacts late into the night. Thin short pink running short and a tight white tank top with matching thin flimsy sandals. With each step closer to Dabi the smell of coffee makes you let out a satisfied hum.

“So, your name is Dabi?” You had noticed he taken your lipstick and wrote on the bathroom mirror as you had to what you assumed to be his name. Dabi slowly turned around with a mug to his lips grunting confirmation to your question. He handed you a mug of black coffee and took the moment you were distracted by your beverage to take in your appearance.

He was surprised that you had a change of clothes in your small bag, but his face showed no emotion. Part of him was hoping you would walk out in only a towel or the hoodie he left on the bed for you. Dabi thought you looked so normal and innocent in your day clothes making him wonder why you were here with him. You made the aggressive advances on him the night before and now he was starting to question your motives. The bitter taste to his coffee was nothing to the bitter feeling of being used. He sucked down another gulp of coffee trying to harden his already shielded heart. Dabi placed his mug down, crossed his arms over his chest then lean back on the counter.

“(Y/n) right?” His tone was dark and sarcastic when he spit out your name. You felt an unpleasant chill run down your spine. Trying to place the mug down without showing how intimidated you were by his sudden change in attitude was difficult. You smiled tightly and hummed out a yes to show he had your full attention.

Dabi enjoyed the fear in your eyes it gave him a deep satisfaction. He pushed himself away from the kitchen counter in two quick steps he was toe to toe with you. His height difference was clear as he looked down at you. His grip was tight on the tip of your chin when he pulled your gaze up to meet his. He leaned in close with an intimidating look in his blue eye.

“What is a sweet little thing like you doing playing round in a hole in the wall bar with a thug like me?”

You felt frozen in place as you tried to steady your breathing. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It was obvious you planned to sleep with someone you even packed extra clothes. You could not blame him for the question, but it was the deep threatening tone that he asked in that made you want to choose your next words carefully.

“So, what is it, were you board and needing someone to spice up your perfect life? Or do you get off on using people?” You try to respond but only a few low squeaks escape. Your throat feels try and legs weak as you try to look away from his sharp glare.

When Dabi goes to release your chin, he pushes you head to the side nearly knocking you off balance. With a huff he is back to leaning nest to the counter arms folded over his chest. He will not even look at you and the sour expression on his face fills you with guilt.

“Just go.” With those harsh words you felt tears filling your eyes.

You storm off to his bedroom to grab the last of your things. While in there you take the time to mentally collect yourself. This was not how things were meant to be. You needed to tell him the truth even if he did not believe you or care what you say. A rising determination was fueling you to go back out and tell him why you hooked up with him last night. Straightening up your stance to toss your bag over your shoulder as you turn around you find Dabi filling up the door frame and blocking your way out. Your body slightly jerks back in response to not expecting him to be behind you.

“Umm Dabi,” you stuttered shyly as you spoke up, “Look its not like either of us were planning to have more than a one night.” He squinted his eyes at you but said nothing. Inside he was slightly offended after how softly he thought of you this morning but over all he did agree with you. “Yes I did pursue you .. rather hard last night but I can explain.” You began to twiddle your finders nervously along the hem of your shirt. Dabi still stay silent, but the quirked eyebrow seemed to you as an indication to continue. “Well, you kind of look like a villain.” You were not wrong, but Dabi still felt like he had a right to be offended plus he was starting to enjoy watching you squirm.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better being called a villain because why? My scars?” Dabi stood tall in the doorway radiating off an intimidating presence.

“Ok I know that came out wrong, but I needed someone to ruin my reputation.” Well, that was an unexpected answer. Dabi felt taken back as he tried to understand what kind of a woman would willing let a man ruin her reputation. Dabi took slow strides towards you closing the distance and still blocking you from the door. You backed away in a slow shuffle as he approached until the back of your knees met the bed nearly knocking you off balance. Dabi leaned his head down slightly and placed a firm grip on your chin tilting your face up at him.

“I -I just wanted my ex-boyfriend to leave me alone.”

“And how did I fit into that little plan of yours.”

“We broke up 6 months ago, but he won’t let me move on keep saying I’m good for his reputation because he’s some mid rank hero.” That peaked Dabi’s interest. He loosed his grip on your chin and took a slight step back wordlessly signaled for you to continue explaining with a flick of his hand.

“We broke up 6 months ago, but it was more like I dumped him because he is an abusive jerk.” You took a deep breath to try and suppress tears of the memories of your past relationship. “It got to the point I wasn’t allowed to have friends because I needed to always be available to him even though he was cheating all the time. When I called him out on the cheating, he just claimed they were very affectionate fans.” Your tone got bitter the more you spoke. “So even after I broke up with him and moved, he would still fallow me or have another hero friend follow me. He broke into my home and would constantly call me even when I was at work. He continued to tell people we were together and because other people never saw the abuse I was labeled as an ungrateful girlfriend.” You could no longer hold in the tears your voice was starting to crack from crying.

“Shhh Shhh- princess don’t waste anymore of your tears on a guy like that.” He tried hard to make his words sound sincere. Dabi knew all too well how corrupt heroes were and so he quickly thought of a way to help make you look more ‘ruined’. At least he would get another taste of you before ridding himself of unnecessary drama. He really did not need more heroes following him around but if his idea worked, even a little, there might not be one following you. It was a win, win, to him.

“You need to save all those tears for the punishment I’m about to give you.”

“Punishment?”

“That right, punishment. You have been a very naughty girl using people like that for your own needs.”

“But I- “

“No buts.” He guides you slowly to lay back on the bed with your feed dangling off at the knees over the edge. “You need to show me how sorry you are for what you have done and take your punishment. Got that?”

“Yes…sir.”

“Good girl.”

Dabi lightly nudged you to sit on the bed by putting his hand atop your shoulders. The bed made a loud creaking sound as your weight caused it to sink. His fingers slowly traced down your body until he finally placed his hands on either one of your thighs. As he leaned in, he pushed your legs apart. His nose ran up the length of your clothed slit the sensation caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Wet already and I’ve barely touched you. I told you doll face this is a punishment.” Without wasting a moment Dabi smacked his hand hard on to the top of your feminine parts. You let out a loud sharp scream from the sharp pain. He quickly found your clit and started rubbing slow circles adding pleasure to the dulling pain you felt. His free hand crawled up towards the elastic band of your shorts hooking his fingers under the elastic. With a few shimmies of your shorts your bottom half was soon bare.

“Ooo!” Dabi leaned in and kissed the red handprint he left on your sensitive flesh. For a split second he felt guilty about how hard he hit you but the thoughts of what he was still planning to do was causing a sinister smile to form through his stapled face. “I’m starting to think you enjoy pain.”

“No, it’s not like that I..”, Unable to finish your sentence as a wave of pleasure was building up in you. Dabi no longer cared what you had to say he was more focused on the moans he could pull from you.

Your chest was slight blocking your view of fully seeing Dabi’s face, but you could feel his fingers slowly pumping into you. His lips and tongue swirled and sucked on your hood and clit. The combination was quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. After how long the two of you were intimate the night before your body was already sensitive.

You started to moan out what you though were words saying how you were about to cum but suddenly everything stopped. You sat up slightly in shock to see Dabi licking his finger of your juices with a sinister smirk. It was very quickly obvious he was not going to finish.

“I told you this was a punishment. Now get your things and get out.” With those cold words he stood up with your shorts in his hand. He lazily tossed them at you so dumbfounded by what just happened you nearly loss balance catching them. Dabi walked away from you as you put your clothes back on. He pulled out a cigarette and leaned near the partly opened window. Everything about him was cold again and it twisted you up inside far more than before.

Despite the aching in your shorts and the twisting pain in your chest you managed to gather your bag without crying again. You looked over at Dabi hoping to see some kind of emotion from him, but he turned his gaze away from you. With quick strides you made your way across his tiny apartment and out the front door. To make yourself feel a little better you slammed it shut behind you causing the cheep walls to shake.

Your angry pride filled power walk slowed after you made it a few blocked away. Slowly you shuffled to the nearby bus stop and leaned on the street sign. As you waited for the bus you allowed yourself to quietly let out tears. A mix of regret filled you as you replayed the last 24 hours in your mind. “Dabi..”

#Dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #villain #league of villians x reader #lemon #todoroki smut #bnha smut #dabi is touya #touya todoroki #touya smut #my hero academia #blue flames

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guardianspirits13 · 3 years

Text

I wanna talk about Natsuo Todoroki for a second here.

tw// mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide

Natsuo visibly has the most emotional trauma out of anyone else in his family (Touya not included), and I really wanna talk about why that is.

For starters, we haven't seen him really smile since he was introduced in chapter 187. He's introduced as having a friendly, easygoing persona and it's easy to imagine this is how most people outside of his family know him. However, every time we see him appear since then, another layer of his trauma is revealed and expanded upon, and it cuts DEEP.

I think the main reason that Natsuo still seems so vulnerable compared to the rest of his family is different than what you'd assume. Fuyumi and Shouto both spend a lot of time around Endeavor, and have been in close proximity to his (relatively recent) decision to atone. They have seen his growth firsthand and come to terms with it. Rei has obviously taken a very different path to healing- not entirely voluntarily- but she has been working with doctors and therapists for years to change and recover and reconnect with herself and her children. Natsuo is off at college, and takes every opportunity he can to avoid Endeavor. He (understandably) wants nothing to do with him, and shows stagnant resistance to his attempts to atone.

The reason why Natsuo can't move on from the past is because his trauma didn't come from Endeavor. It came from Touya.

Now initially we were led to believe that it was simply Touya's untimely death that still bothers Natsuo, and it makes sense seeing how Endeavor drove him to the edge. Losing his best friend and brother as a young kid without parents to support him or any therapist to speak of can absolutely been the source of persistent emotional damage, but the more and more we learn about Touya's situation, the more evident it becomes that Natsuo's trauma is much much deeper than even grief.

Touya, as we know, was driven by an ambition instilled in him by his father and experienced extreme rejection sensitivity when those ambitions were no longer realistic. Touya's relationship with his parents could be described as insecure attachment, a psychological term primarily regarding how kids react and respond to their parents and other close relationships. As he was raised, Touya learned to equate his potential to be a hero with his personal worth and similarly confounded attention with love. The difference being, of course, that love is unconditional, but even attention was being continually directed away from him as a punishment for continuing to train and burn himself so he could once again become worthy in his fathers' eyes.

This is where Natsuo comes in. At first it was assumed that all of the Todoroki children were born out of Endeavor's strong-willed desire to have a child that could surpass All Might, but we learned that this isn't exactly the case. I'd argue that it was narratively poetic on Horikoshi's part once this was expanded upon. Fuyumi was born to support and encourage her brother, and that is the exact role she plays 23 years later, keeping her family together.

Natsuo's case is even more intersting.

It was bad enough if Natsuo was only born for the potential of his quirk, but it's even more sinister that the sole intent behind his birth was to discourage Touya from his ambitions. I'd say it was to replace him, but it was more to promote the idea that Touya was expendable than to raise aonther kid with the same ideals but the potential to actually achieve it, although that was definitely a secondary motivation.

The parallelism in this is how much Natsuo's life revolves around Touya. He was born because of Touya, he looked up to and took care of Touya as a kid, and the absence of Touya in the present continues to drive him and his decisions in life (but more on that later).

I continue to pray that we will eventually get more solid backstory on Natsuo and Touya's relationship as kids and where it cut off, wether on a bad note or not, but there are a few things we know for certain. One, Touya was mentally ill. Yes, he was rejected by his parents but he seems to have been particularly vulnerable to this compared to any of his siblings since he was the first of them and thus relied only on his parents for validation in his early years. He shows early signs of a variety of different mental disorders, particularly BPD, which I have previously written a whole analysis for on its own. Touya is shown self-harming both by the very nature of his quirk and even by very directly ripping his hair out. He was incredibly self-destructive.

This is why it is so much more concerning to me that Natsuo, who was AT LEAST four years younger than him, was his primary source of comfort. Natsuo was too young to have known anything more than 'my big brother is sad that daddy won't train him anymore' and he obviously wasn't equipped in any way to handle Touya's severe mental illness. Touya most definitely needed professional treaatment as his forms of coping were abnormal even for the neglect and rejection that he experienced. Natsuo comforted Touya through breakdown after breakdown, and more than that Touya relied on him and came to him voluntarily for support. Natsuo was the best option he had, and he took full advantage of that. The main source of Natsuo's trauma was Touya's reliance on him.

Not to say at all that this was in any way Touya's fault- he was mentally ill and desperately in need of some form of comfort to keep him sane; it was almost a survival method at this point since neither of his parents really acknowleged him at all anymore. Touya's instability hurt Natsuo more than parental neglect ever did, but it was the neglect that enabled it and striped Touya of the supportive atmosphere he would have needed at this point not only to prevent but to heal from the mental damage he had already suffered.

Natsuo dealt with this for years and you can see how much it hurt him to see Touya in so much pain, not only from Endeavor's rejection but from his own self harm as well. For Natuso to know that his brotherly love would never be the same as having loving parents; would neve be enough- but at least it was something so he continued to love and care about his brother for little in return- is indicative of the kind of character he is.

(Edit: After the events of chapter 302 we know that Natsuo's relationship with Touya wasn't perfect. I will elaborate more on this in a different post, but I just wanted to clarify that although we were shown a very high-tension scene between them, it is implied that this was a regular occurrence that Natsuo was usually more receptive too but tired out of, in addition to Touya's spiraling mental health. It fit with the natrative to show the tension Touya was feeling with his family from all directions, but Natsu and Touya clearly had a stronger relationship up to and before this point, evidenced by their sharing a room and playing together regularly.)

He is incredibly selfless, and it's interesting to note how many of his positive qualities as an adult stem from negative experiences as a kid. He never really felt love from his parents, so he relied on Touya (and likely also Fuyumi) for that as well. If he grew up learning he had to give love in order to recieve it back, it absolutely influenced who he became in the future, a solid example of this being the responsibility he feels to reach out and have a relationship with Shouto and further regrets that he wasn't able to help his abuse in the past either. Another aspect of his character that intruigues me is how gentle he is. Personality-wise he seems about as opposite as he could be from the awkward, stoic, emotionally-stunted person that is Endeavor.

There are a couple of reasons for this, beyond what I've already discussed.

One, he had little to no contact with elements of toxic masculinity growing up, especially not from Endeavor.

Two, most of the influence he did have growing up was from Fuyumi, who is established to have endlessly cared for him since he was a literal baby.

Three, he grew up in a household where almost everyone around him was in much more literal, immediate pain than he was so he developed a very strong sense of empathy that might also have been tied to early survivor's guilt.

Now I have one important distinction to make, and that's the temptation to label him as a 'softboy' or something of the like after seeing him caring for his family and more pointedly, watching him break down in tears during chapter 252. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with men being soft or vulnerable (on the contrary it's actually so so important and relevant that Hori is writing characters like this in a mainstream shounen manga but that's an essay for another time), it is unfair to label him as such based on a moment when his trauma is being exposed.

Because his truama stems from such a young age, there is a blurry line between just being born with more emotional intelligence and the situation he was in fostering those traits. You know, the classic nature/nurture thing. My point being, it's important to tread carefully when discussing the nature of his personality to avoid invalidating his trauma; I have no doubt that he is very strong for having survived these things, and the moments we see of him onscreen are definitely among his most vulnerable.

Another thing that people less familiar with Natsuo's character might assume is that he is hot-headed and argumentative. I thought that at first too- after all, he doesn't seem to shy away from yelling at Endeavor when given the opportunity. However, this doesn't seem to be the case at all.

The first real scene we see him in with Endeavor, the man walks into the room and Natsuo decides he can't handle it and goes to leave. However, Endeavor happens to be blocking the doorway. Endeavor physically stops him and provokes him to his face, asking him to say whatever is on him mind. While Natsuo is notably not confrontational, Endeavor is. I think it's fair to say that he felt at least uneasy at this gesture. Natsuo is very honest with his feelings, and it's obvious that he's pissed at the audacity of Endeavor to be so oblivious to his own son. This is presumably one of the first real interactions they've ever really had, and at this point Natsuo has been dealing with trauma (caused by Endeavor!) on his own for years, and Endeavor seems completely oblivious to his pain and dismmisive to the rest of the family's as well.

Again during the internship arc Natsuo tries to get along with Endeavor and this time he actually gives it a fleeting chance. Tensions are high, however, and the conversation very quickly becomes uncomfortable, at which point he leaves. It is continually implied that Natsuo is uncomfortable being around Endeavor because his very presence brings up painful thoughts and memories of a time when sharing the same space as him was a warning to run and hide. This is later directly confirmed by Natsuo as he says that every time he looks at Endeavor's face he remembers Touya and the pain he was in.

I feel like an important side note is that we have never seen Natsuo outside the context of his family, which is understandable, as the role he plays in the story directly relates to them. However, if you take a look at Shouto, even though his experiences have shaped him to become who he is, he definitely acts differently when Endeavor's not in the vicinity.

Back to Touya's death, it would be very rare that someone would mourn a death for an entire decade without finding closure unless there are other factors preventing it, and uncomfortably this seems to be the same thing for both Natsuo and Endeavor: guilt.

This is getting incredibly long already, but it's important to note that Natsuo probably felt an incredible responsibility to take care of Touya and protect him because of his empathetic nature. His love was never going to be the same as having loving parents. His encouragement was never going to be the same as having support from Endeavor. Even further than then neglect and abandonement, it was not being able to save Touya that really made Natsuo feel worthless.

He seems to try and remedy this inability to save Touya and diminish his guilt by doing everything he can to be better. He reaches out to Shouto to be a better brother, he consistently pushes his limits to entertain Fuyumi's notion of a happy family, and he's working hard towards a degree rhat will allow him to help people like Touya (and Rei) because he failed to do so in the past.

His bio mildly implies that he didn't have much of a direction he was heading in after high school, but Fuyumi's encouragement led him to seek out his current college career. This goes back to Natsuo's 'purpose' in a sense revolving arount Touya, from his birth to his relationship with him to his death, after which he lost his direction. They were always rather inseperable, so naturally their seperation hit Natsuo hard. He lost his direction in life so when Fuyumi encouraged him to rediscover it, he thought of helping people, because that's ultimately what he was born to do.

Thank you so, so much for reading this if you made it to the end! I clearly have a lot of thoughts on this. Let me know what you think about it as well, and hopefully we'll get more info on this soon in the manga :)

#bnha 203 #bnha spoilers #long post #natsuo todoroki #todoroki natsuo #bnha meta #mymeta #todoroki touya

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Prove It

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request of Spencer getting mad at being teased and being motivated enough to prove he’s not vanilla. This took forever from the time it was first requested for me to write and post it, so I’m so sorry to the anon who requested it. It feels like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve posted a smut too, so enjoy some smutty Spencer to start your week. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Word Count: 4,246

“I will never understand it.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

You sat down in one of the chairs in the jet, across from coworker and teammate Derek Morgan.

You and the team you were a part of, the Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU for short—of the FBI had just solved another case and were on the way home.

You’d seen plenty of sickos before, so another one didn’t seem to surprise you. Of course, it was disgusting and aggravating, horrifying and awful, but you never pretended to understand unsubs in the first place. So you were quite curious about what Morgan was thinking out loud about.

Spencer Reid plopped down in the chair next to you with his cup of coffee.

How the man managed to live off coffee and actually go to sleep was a mystery to you. At this point it would benefit him to just have his coffee injected into him through IV, that’s how much he consumed.

“This S&M stuff,” Morgan waved his hand, “It’s insane.”

The case they’d just recently closed had involved a guy who had taken his violent sexual desires a step too far and found himself turned on by actually murdering women. Whether it was by choking or gagging, somehow he’d discovered he got a sexual release from killing his female partners.

What started as auto erotic asphyxiation—something that was incredibly dangerous to begin with—had turned to something more sinister and even more deadly.

“When done right, it’s actually not as bad as some of these unsubs make us believe,” Spencer said.

“I’m sure you know all about it, don’t you kid?” Morgan replied, sarcastically.

“Anyway,” he continued, before Spencer could cut in again, “I’m not judging people who do it, it just seems like even when it’s done right, it’s too dangerous to even be exciting. It’d be a mood killer for me.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t bring out your dominant side every once and awhile,” you smirked, teasing him.

“Hey, I’m all for some good rough sex. I’m not as vanilla as pretty boy here, but I’m not about to emotionally and physically scar Savannah.”

“Hey! What’s that’s supposed to mean?!” Spencer protested.

Savannah was Morgan’s wife, now of three years. They had a son together, Hank. Being a parent according to Morgan, you didn’t get much “mommy and daddy time”, but even then, it didn’t stop him from shamelessly sharing details about his sex life. You got used to it; it was just a Derek thing anyway.

“Sure, I’ve done some tying up and spanking, but that’s mild compared to some practices in BDSM. I once asked Reid about it and unfortunately learned more than I ever wanted to about it.”

“Excuse me,” Spencer broke in, “What’s the vanilla remark supposed to mean?”

Both yours and Derek’s heads turned to see Spencer’s brows furrowed.

“Kid, vanilla ice cream is spicier than you,” Morgan teased.

“Oh come on, that’s not true!” Spencer retorted, exasperated.

“I’m sorry Reid, I just can’t imagine you being kinky. I mean do you just spout facts during sex or what?”

You held back a snicker although you heard the rest of the team chuckling.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer flushed.

You averted your eyes from his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for a little while, the team none the wiser to your relationship. You couldn’t quite defend him without giving it away.

It wasn’t really a secret per se, you just mutually decided not to say anything until it became more serious. You had only slept together a few times anyway, so it wasn’t like you were familiar with his sexual proclivities.

“You’re more vanilla than Vanilla Ice,” Morgan joked, making you choke on your sip of water, laughing.

“How would you know anyway?” Spencer crossed his arms, his face now a deep red, “I could be kinkier than you know.”

“Dude, when’s the last time you even slept with a girl?” Morgan asked with a raised brow, “Wasn’t it that bartender Austin from a case 11 years ago?”

Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t going to say anything and you knew it because it would give away yours and his personal business.

“That’s what I thought. Vanilla,” Derek laughed, standing to refill his tumbler with more whiskey, “Don’t worry Pretty Ricky, not everyone has to be an animal in bed.”

He patted Spencer’s shoulder as he walked by to head to the back of the jet—and the whiskey decanter.

You could tell by Spencer’s pursed lips that he was annoyed.

You promised yourself that when the jet landed, you would apologize.

•

You had been wrong.

Spencer wasn’t annoyed.

He was pissed.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you repeated for the hundredth time.

Once the jet had landed, everyone went their separate ways, so no one was the wiser when you’d climbed into Spencer’s car. You had spent more time at his place lately than your own, so you were heading back to his apartment with him.

The entire drive was filled with tense silence. His jaw stayed clenched all the way home.

“Spence, please talk to me. If I hurt your feelings, that wasn’t my intention.”

You followed him into his apartment, watching as he sat down his go bag and satchel by the door. You sat your own things near his, as well.

You didn’t miss how tense he was, indicating his anger.

“Spence-” you began, but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed,” he snapped.

You were taken back, unsure if you’d heard him right the first time.

“What?”

“I said, go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself. And don’t make me do it myself cause you will regret it.”

You stood frozen in place for a second, your mouth opening and closing. By the look on his face, you could tell he was serious.

“O-Okay,” you stammered, walking backwards to the bedroom.

You had no idea what he had planned, but deep down, you could feel the tingle of excitement beginning to work its way to the surface. Maybe some rough sex would ease his anger.

You were out of your shirt and pants before you reached the bed. You pulled off your bra, letting it fall from your fingertips and then rid your underwear before climbing onto the bed like you were asked to do, laying back.

It was at least a good ten minutes before Spencer came into the room, with something in each hand.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer you.

He sat what appeared to be a glass of ice on the nightstand and grabbed one of your wrists, starting to tie it to the bedpost with what you now realized was one of his ties.

You watched as he tied the opposite one before you spoke.

“Spence, I-”

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you unless I say to speak,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you.

His face lingered above yours, his lips not far from your own. He didn’t kiss you yet, but you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the anticipation of his lips finally being on yours making you anxious.

His nose nudged yours gently as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lidded, although they occasionally flicked up toward yours. He knew how much you wanted him to kiss you and he was using that to his advantage.

Finally, it came, feather light. It was like kissing a cloud, the faint touch not nearly enough to satiate your needs. You tried to lean upwards to meet his lips again, taking what you wanted, what you needed, but he pulled out of your reach, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Oh so this is how it’s going to be?” you mock pouted.

“My bed, my rules,” he answered.

The anticipation of this kiss made your heart race and your breath hitch. If he was willing enough to deprive you this easily and this early on, what else was he capable of?

When his lips finally met yours, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner, considering you were currently tied to his bedposts. His mouth glided along with yours, the intensity picking up rather quickly.

His hunger and anger seemed to meld into one as he kissed you roughly, pulling back enough to capture your lower lip between his, his teeth softly scraping over it. A small, satisfied sigh emitted from you, against his lips.

Your mouth parted as you continued to enjoy the feel of his mouth on yours, his tongue being both graceful and teasing at the same time, it moving swiftly over your bottom lip.

You were already struggling with your restraints, wanting to touch him as he kissed you. Normally, your touch was everywhere on him when you kissed. From his face to his shoulders and chest and in his curls, you ravished being able to touch him. But you didn’t have that luxury right now and it was absolutely killing you.

He pulled away, lips hovering over your jaw as he kissed it just slightly, ready to move on to other areas.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have more than enough proof that I’m anything but vanilla,” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against your throat.

Your thighs clamped inadvertently as you suddenly became even more turned on than you had been previously. He reached over you, towards the ice, grabbing a cube.

You watched him intently, gasping sharply when the shock of cold touched your skin, just along your collarbone.

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” he asked, sliding the ice cube along your chest.

You nodded eagerly, biting down on your lip as he moved the ice over the swell of your breast and across your nipple making them tighten, both from the cold and your arousal. His lips followed the trail of ice over your breasts, tongue moving out to encircle your nipple and flick it. He repeated it on the opposite side and you gave a moan of approval at his explorations.

A trail of water was left behind on your skin as he continued on, gliding the ice down the middle of your chest towards your stomach. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin at the continuous icy cold sensation.

“You’re so hot, you’re making the ice melt quickly,” he purred.

His touch left you as he reached back towards the nightstand to grab another cube. Apparently he’d been right, as the first cube had melted completely.

Once the coolness touched your skin again you found yourself gasping. As tantalizing as this teasing was, you were extremely turned on by it. You could feel the heat within your body, your core already starting to pulsate with arousal.

“I really hate that I can’t touch you,” you groaned, tugging on your restraints.

“But that’s what makes it fun, sweetheart,” he grinned, placing a kiss on your stomach.

The ice cube moved down one of your sides, over your hip, where he gave it a playful squeeze. Then the cold hit the top of your thighs, his other hand gliding to the top of the opposite one.

You were desperate at the point and automatically widened the space between your legs. If anything, you were going to let him get a good view of just how wet you were.

His eyes flickered downwards then back up towards your face, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You squirmed, anxious for him to do anything.

“Problem, love?” he cooed.

You glared, arching your hips in an attempt to get some sort of contact.

He chuckled, spreading your legs further. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the ice moving over your outer lips definitely wasn’t it.

You hissed at the sudden cold, but you didn’t hate it at all. Not like you hated these fucking restraints. You cursed when he pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned.

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillow, tugging at your bound wrists again.

You wanted to push his head or his hands to your throbbing core; maybe both at this rate.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered.

“Okay,” he relented, sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been a good girl so far.”

He reached over you, pulling the knotted ties loose from around your wrists. It was like sweet freedom to you.

Before you could even touch him, he’d taken a hold of you, rolling you over so you were straddling his stomach.

“Ooh, I’m in control? I like,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You didn’t quite make it to his lips.

“Think again.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs, roughly pulling you up to sit on his face. This, you hadn’t suspected.

“Oh god,” you moaned lowly as his tongue slid up your outer lips.

His hands held your thighs tightly and he wasted no time diving right in. His tongue flicked your clit and you had to grab a hold of the headboard just to make sure you didn’t collapse on top of him.

Of course oral sex had been a part of your sex life with Spencer prior to this, but never in this way. He was usually more timid about it. But right now, he went for it in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Fuck, Spence.”

You groaned, his lips circling your clit to suck on it briefly before releasing it with a tiny pop of his mouth. His tongue flicked over it again, alternating in speed and pressure.

You had thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt a finger slide into you. You could’ve sworn you almost lost your mind at that point. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, matching the now slower speed of his tongue that seemed to be licking everywhere but your clit.

“Dammit Spencer,” you groaned, slightly grinding against his mouth for some friction.

You jerked a bit, a surprised squeal coming from you when his hand came down on your ass. It wasn’t a bad reaction though, it had just excited you even more.

“Did you just spank me?!” you asked incredulously.

He hummed, sending a delicious vibration against your clit as his hand came down again on your ass making you moan loudly.

You had no idea there was this side to him.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes baby,” you whined, your hips moving back and forth over his face as his fingers and tongue drove you crazy.

The faster his fingers went, the harder his tongue moved. You were gripping the headboard so tight, your knuckles were white.

“Ah!” you squealed, at an additional spank.

It wasn’t hard enough to be too rough and painful, just hard enough to be incredibly sexy, sending a charge directly to your currently, extremely stimulated clit.

It was also incredibly appealing to you to feel the slight scratch of his facial hair against your nether regions as he ravished you.

You could feel your entire body tensing, preparing for the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. Apparently, Spencer could too.

He worked you until you came shattering apart above him. His name mixed with a loud moan and curses sprinkled in.

When the high had ebbed a bit, he moved you back to sit on his stomach, a wolfish grin on his face. You still felt a bit dazed since there was still a bit of buzz left tingling within you.

You noticed then that your boyfriend was way overdressed.

“It’s time to do something about these,” you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

He allowed you to pull his shirt off, but his hand grabbed yours just as they reached for his belt.

“I am going to fuck you bent over my desk and only bent over my desk.”

He gave you no time to react as he’d already lifted you in his arms and stood from the bed, heading to the living room.

“Spencer, what? I-”

The words died on your lips as he entered the living room and his desk came into view. Normally, it was stacked neatly with his books, files, paperwork that he needed to complete, pens, pencils, a couple of coffee mugs, the works. But now, it was completely clear, showing off its deep, dark brown, glossy desktop.

Heat pooled in your stomach when you realized he’d planned ahead for this. He’d imagined bending you over his desk, having his way with you. You swallowed back a moan, already eager for him to be buried inside of you.

Instead of immediately pushing you over the edge of the desk, he sat you on top of it, facing him.

You bit your lip, quite literally looking up through your lashes at him. His tongue moved over his lips, his hunger for you apparent as his hands traced every inch of you.

From your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs and around towards your bottom, squeezing it gently, his hands traveled every part of you before capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was no innocent kiss. It was fiery and filled with the mutual hunger for one another. He was still kissing you when he slid you off the desktop, your feet touching the floor once again.

He turned you and had you bent over the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds. You heard the clink and whir of his belt as he unbuckled it, the sound alone sending a charge through you.

You shifted impatiently, much to his notice. He smirked, running a hand between your legs teasingly, as he pushed his suit pants out of the way with the other hand.

He wasted no time on gentle and loving movements. He entered you roughly and quite honestly, when you weren’t expecting it.

You whimpered. The feeling of your most intimate parts stretching just enough to accommodate him was one of the best feelings in the world to you.

By this point, you’d lost the ability to be quiet. He’d already brought you to one earth shattering orgasm and that was after the tantalizing ice foreplay that had turned you on beyond belief.

Your constant moans filled the room as your hands gripped the edges of the desk.

Your hips were tight in his grip as he thrust into you fast and hard, your own body bouncing off his in the opposite direction. He, for one, was much louder than he normally was. Grunts, groans, mumbled curses and pants came from behind you as he had his way with you.

His lips hovered over your neck, his appraising moans ringing in your ears.

“Fucking shit, fuuuck, Y/N,” he groaned before attaching his lips to your neck.

He sucked harshly, hard enough to know that hickies would be present for the next few days.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the slight sting of his teeth bearing down into your shoulder, but coupled with your current pleasure, it was actually hot.

Your back arched as he focused on what he’d learned—quite quickly, you might add—was one of your absolute sweet spots, his hips aiding in thrusting deeply within you.

Spencer’s hand snaked up your spine, tangling in your hair, his fingers wrapping around a few strands. It surprised you when he pulled on it, firm enough to pull your head to the side. You moaned at the sensation, ready for him to do anything at this point. You were so turned on, you were a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

“Still. Think. I’m. Vanilla?”

Each of his words were clipped, growled into your ear and enunciated with a forceful thrust.

“No,” you rasped, quickly losing control of yourself and becoming delirious from the ecstasy he was providing you with.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he grunted, halting his movements completely.

You about sobbed in agony, wanting the feel of him back. Your hips automatically moved backwards to get some more friction, but Spencer held them still.

“Tell me,” he groaned, the slight strain in his voice indicating he was struggling with keeping still, himself.

You cursed, craving the delicious sensation of him deep within you again especially since you were on the brink of shattering like broken glass.

“Who’s not vanilla?” Spencer taunted.

He began moving once again, his motions slow and teasing. He slid in and out of you with long, lackadaisical thrusts although he made sure each move was deep enough so you could feel every inch of him within you.

“Dammit Spencer, please,” you mewled, encircling your hips in small movements.

His low groan that came from above you was telling enough that he was trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Answer me,” he murmured huskily, his lips traveling up your back, hands reaching forward to massage your breasts in his hands.

“Answer me,” he repeated, “And I’ll fuck you like you deserved to be fucked.”

Your mouth dropped, a haggard moan escaping your throat. You weren’t used to hearing Spencer dirty talk and you’d realized that you instantly loved it.

His facial hair scratched your cheek as his mouth moved in the vicinity of it, sucking on your jaw.

“Be a good girl and answer me and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, baby girl,” his low whisper came, one hand gliding between your legs, finger ghosting your clit.

“I’ll make you cum harder than you even imagined. Until you’re dripping all over my cock. I wanna fuck my girl, good, Spencer purred.

“Oh my god,” you cried, the overstimulation of his words and his touch finally getting you to lose absolute control of your conscious mind.

“You, Spencer, you,” you moaned.

The only sounds that filled his living room were the mixed moans and the sound of your bodies moving together as he fulfilled his promise and resumed his earlier pace though more erratic this time.

Your inadvertent clenching around him with every move was making him lose control quickly.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you whined, clenching the edges of the desk so hard you knew your hands would be sore later.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you registered that you most likely sounded akin to a pornstar right now, though you didn’t spend much time on the thought. The fire in your veins was igniting the growing pressure in your stomach, like a furnace growing too hot.

It took less than a few moves before you went tumbling over the cliff of ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut, your vision going completely white behind your closed eyes as you managed out a satisfied, bliss filled cry.

It was like lightning had struck your body except the electricity had come straight from the pit of your belly. Spencer had been right, it was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced.

It was the body shaking, breathtaking, best kind of high ever, type of intense.

His own had soon followed as you’d tumbled down the rabbit hole of your own delirium. His hands gripped your sides and his body shuddered behind yours.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he groaned repeatedly, still moving with you, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of both of your orgasms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as you arched back into him, reaching behind him to grip his hair as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

It took a few moments before both of you stilled, your breathing hard, heart beating wildly.

When your senses had somewhat turned to normal and the rushing of your blood in your ears had calmed down, you noticed your legs shaking—a definite sign of a good fucking.

You felt his breath on your neck, his breathlessness matching your own. Your body felt slick against his from all of the exertion, but it had been totally worth it.

Spencer pushed your hair to one side of your neck, burying his face into your neck sweetly before leaving a gentle kiss there.

“My god, Spencer,” you half laughed, trying to focus the tiny bit of energy you had left on attempting to stand.

Disconnecting himself from you, he turned you to face him. He lifted you back on to the desktop to sit, not caring that your thighs were currently slick with the product of his own orgasm. Your quivering legs were thankful for the momentary reprieve though.

“I know,” he smirked, “Didn’t know I had it in me, huh?”

“Definitely not,” you smirked, lifting your face up towards his.

Your lips met his lazily. You spent a few minutes enjoying one other, mouths parting and meeting over and over, enjoying the post coital consequential kisses before getting cleaned up.

His hands splayed over the tops of your thighs, stroking gently. He may have been rough with you earlier, but you knew his gentle touch was him wordlessly assuring himself you were okay.

You were actually more than okay—you had definitely been well fucked.

“Spencer?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Hmm?”

He pulled away from you, his eyes opening, his dreamy, currently hazy, hazel eyes meeting yours.

“Remind me to never listen to Morgan ever again.”

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#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid gif #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid smut #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds gif #criminal minds smut #Dr Reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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pla-teau · 3 years

Text

WANDAVISION EPISODE 6 THOUGHTS

SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

GOOD GOD I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS

GIF NOT MINE

pietro maximoff as ‘himself’ | in the opening credits, pietro is introduced as playing himself? this just made me more suspicious about him and who he really is. it’s like wanda (since she’s the one broadcasting her show) trying to convince us, and herself, that this is her dead brother.

billy talking to us | i know tommy talks to the camera at the beginning for a brief minute but it’s mainly billy talking. i think this was a hint at his incoming powers. plus, in promo trailers for the ‘modern family’ episode, wanda’s the one talking to the camera. i bet we’ll see the kids talk to the camera in that episode but i just find it interesting that billy’s the one leading us through the beginning of the episode. plus, in rewatching the episode, pietro seems to be aware of billy talking to us and reacts to when billy talks about vision and wanda’s relationship going through a rough patch.

haydick hayward’s an ass | there’s no denying that hayward has something up his suspicious ass. first with showing the footage of wanda stealing vision’s body. then, putting in a missile and planning on killing wanda. yea, the five years were hard for everyone - no one’s denying it but there’s just something that isn’t right. we clearly see that he’s hiding something when darcy finds a file of sorts that only hayward can see and that he’s been able to track vision without telling the team. either he’s got a personal vendetta or he’s covering for something more sinister. personally, i think he’s just pissed that wanda, one of the most powerful beings in the universe, took away vision’s body when he needed it to create more weapons and whatever else he was planning. i wanted monica to punch him in the throat when he told her it was better that she wasn’t around when her mom died. bless monica for keeping her cool.

wanda’s interaction with herb | their brief interaction makes me believe that herb is just as aware as agnes (if she happens to be a victim in all this and not agatha harkness) about what’s happening. we got a hint about it in episode 3 when he tried to tell vision what geraldine’s purpose in westview was. we see him mimic agnes from the previous episode when he asks wanda if there’s anything she wants changed. he looks to her the same way agnes did when she was thrown off script. both these times involve vision throwing everything off. vision’s the one that’s been off script from the beginning of the episode this time around instead of after a weird event.

residents being in a loop or immobile | as vision gets farther from wanda and explores westview, it’s evident that there’s something off about the people. we get that shot of the woman and presumably her husband stuck in a time loop of hanging decorations and putting a pumpkin on the front steps. the woman not only sheds a tear but her hands look purplish presumably because of the cold or being stuck doing the same task for god knows how long. clearly, the woman’s in pain and is aware that she can’t break free. as vision gets closer to the loop, residents are completely immobile and stuck wherever they stand. it’s eerie and further proves that this may be wanda’s doing and wherever she is, it’s easy for the residents to be active or for her to control those near her. it could also mean that the closer you are to the hex’s border, that you become immobile as you’re farther removed from the fantasy life wanda has created.

yo-magic commercial | by far the creepiest and most disturbing commercial in the series. i’ve seen people theorize that this commercial is referring to wanda’s detainment on the raft in civil war. it would make sense since the yogurt could represent wanda’s powers and opening the lid should be simple and easy, just like using your powers. on the raft, wanda was detained with a straitjacket and a collar on her neck so she couldn’t use her magic. the island could represent the raft since it was in the ocean. ‘yo-magic, the snack for survivors’ could represent wanda being a survivor in many instances: strücker’s experiments, the battle of sokovia and the lagos incident.

pietro’s ‘part’ | when wanda questions pietro, he gets defensive about how he’s just trying to do his part: come unexpectedly, create tension with vision, stir up trouble with the twins, and ultimately give wanda grief. grief holding a double meaning. obviously, pietro did bring wanda grief when he died in 2015 but it also means to cause trouble which he has done since his arrival to westview. whenever wanda questions him about their childhood or tries to trip him up, pietro retorts with a question or makes rather meta remarks about westview.

the details are fuzzy | the comment pietro makes after a moment of silence between them. he claims he got shot in the middle of the street and next thing he knew wanda was calling her. i think when ‘pietro’ was brought into the westview reality, his memories mixed with those of wanda’s pietro or skewed them at least - it’s probably why things seem hazy to him and can see that wanda doesn’t believe him to be the pietro she remembers. pietro knows he looks different to wanda and it’s like a comment to us because even though pietro only appeared in one movie with wanda - we the audience know he’s not the same actor. this could also be mephisto really mind tripping wanda because she would remember what her brother looked like but the memories are remembered differently. enough to keep her on edge with him and make her suspect but not want to because he also says “i knew you needed me” no stranger would say that right? of course, siblings and family can tell when another member needs them. this episode really makes you laugh at pietro’s antics but go down a rabbit hole with every line he says.

the hex’s effects on people | when darcy explains to monica that her cells have been greatly affected by her entrance and departure from the hex, it doesn’t seem like monica is surprised. maybe this is hinting that monica already has her powers or simply mean that she’s putting on a poker face to hide her fear (or astonishment) at wanda’s level of power. it’s interesting to see if wanda’s gonna be responsible for birthing some mutants or at least awakening the x gene if it hasn’t already. does it mean that anyone can simply leave or that if you leave, you’ll come out with serious side effects that are possibly life threatening? monica states at the end that she’s seen cells in remission which makes me believe that this is hinting at the x gene. we’ve seen what the hex does once you go in, but what happens if an ordinary westview resident leaves?

agnes and vision | we see agnes in her car supposedly leaving town or as she claims, she got ‘lost’. when vision takes her out of her trance, agnes seems shaken and even questions if she’s dead. she also seems to confirm that wanda is the one controlling everyone because she doesn’t even let them think about leaving westview. we see more of where vision’s memory stands because he doesn’t remember (or know) that he was an avenger and that he died (twice). when she says that all is lost, she quickly starts laughing maniacally like a witch. this again makes me think that agnes knows more than anyone what’s going on. assessing what she got from vision, she’s probably laughing because it’s amazing to her that wanda’s gotten so powerful and maybe everything is going according to plan - she just possibly couldn’t overcome wanda’s control and only has a heightened awareness of the situation. there’s no mention of ralph this episode and you would think she’d bring along her husband to leave and go to her desired destination in town. i don’t know, i still think she’s got an ulterior motive and plays a bigger part in all of this.

the twins’ conversation | after sharing a sweet moment, pietro quickly calls out the obvious - the kids. only in episode 3 did children finally come into the show through billy and tommy. now, for halloween, all the kids are out and enjoying halloween. pietro, like rapid fire, remarks that wanda probably kept them peacefully asleep in their beds and didn’t wake them until now for the “occasional holiday episode cameo” so as not to traumatize them even more since she’s always been the “empathetic twin”. he seems to know that this is all in a television reality which gives him even more awareness than any other supporting character we’ve met so far. he even goes into assessing (and somewhat praising?) wanda’s handling of this whole westview reality as ethically possible. he knows that wanda wouldn’t rewrite everything: couples and families stay together and personalities aren’t far off from what they are. with this, it heavily hints that this isn’t the pietro we’ve known in the mcu or the peter from the x-men universe. to me, this furthers the point that this ‘pietro’ is just a puppet for whoever is behind all this (or just a multiverse version of piet) since he seems more impressed than anything by wanda’s powers. also, he’s been the only one to ask what we’ve all been thinking since the first episode: how the hell did wanda do this? once again, wanda doesn’t remember how all of it started which still makes me thinks she was probably taken advantage of by someone and earlier in the episode when recounting a childhood memory, pietro comments that she’s probably suppressed the trauma hence why she doesn’t remember it the same way. at the end, this could all be wanda’s doing due to her feeling so alone and grieving that she may have suppressed that memory of how this all started.

pietro’s corpse | again, us the audience and wanda are reminded that this universe’s pietro is dead. it’s another person closest to wanda that isn’t alive - harking back to her comment about feeling so alone and endless nothingness. this may just be that when wanda lets her guard down and is possibly at peace with a situation, this one being of her accepting that this is the pietro that’s going to be her brother that sticks with her moving forward, she’s reminded of the truth - none of it is real and she can’t bring them back.

vision’s breakout from the hex | as we’ve seen in promos, vision is able to break through the hex. what we were hit with was vision nearly getting killed...again. it seems that he can’t live beyond the hex either due to him just being parts when wanda recovered him or because wanda won’t let him go. either way, vision can’t live outside of westview. it physically seems like wanda can’t let him go because as he steps out of the hex and is being torn apart, the hex looks like it’s trying to pull him back into it. i know the hex was wanda’s doing but this physically makes it seem as if wanda can’t let him go and is holding him back. it’s kind of true because since vision became more aware, he’s been breaking away from wanda and she’s been trying to keep him in place and on script so that they can be happy together. in their fight in the previous episode, she says that all of this is for them as to say that everything she’s doing is for their happiness. it’s a twisted way of showing how vision can’t live without wanda since it seems that she’s the one keeping him alive.

wanda expanding the hex | wanda’s clearly gotten more powerful over the years and this episode really shows us how fucking powerful she is on her own. it’s hysterical that the base and the most of the agents are turned into circus acts such as clowns. i’ll admit i’m upset darcy got sucked in and not hayward. i’m very interested to see who monica’s guy on the outside is. with wanda expanding the hex, it’s becoming more evident that wanda may be the ‘villain’ of the show or if there is someone else behind all of this, we may not see them until multiverse of madness. still, i believe wanda is victim in some capacity - even if it means she’s fallen victim to her trauma and grief.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #scar’s theories #scar tries to piece together what she can each week #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff #vision #mcu #marvel #monica rambeau #jimmy woo #darcy lewis #billy kaplan #tommy shepard #speed #wiccan

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artzychic27 · 3 years

Note

The Artist Family? (new movie)

A month has passed since Marc and Nathaniel met and fell in love at age fourteen, now they’re dating

To celebrate their one month anniversary, they decide to visit one of the most romantic spots ever- The burned-down forest they met in- Only to run into some trouble

The mobs from their previous homes have still been looking for them since the incidents and were finally able to track them down

The couple manage to escape the angry mob with the help of Marc’s spiders and a friendly severed hand who cause a distraction

So they can get away quicker, That drives them in an old hearse he found in a graveyard

Marc: Mi querido, why must hoards of angry villagers follow us everywhere?

Nathaniel: *Kissing Marc’s hand* Meyn ziskeyt, I swear to you, we will find someplace so dark, so sinister, so dastardly that no one in their right mind would be caught dead in!

*They arrive in Paris*

Nathaniel: Huh. I see it’s changed over the last few centuries. And I’m noticing a lack of guillotines.

As they lament about how they can’t keep running for the rest of their lives, That, who was recklessly driving, runs over something in the middle of the road, right near an old funeral home shrouded by fog and cut off from the rest of the city

Marc/Nathaniel: *Excitedly* We hit something!

They rush to see who or what they’ve hit, and see that the figure is a blonde, pale young man who seems to have most of his organs missing

They realize that the person they ran over is Félix Culpa, a young man who died centuries ago, but was never given a funeral because the mortician prepping him got the plague. He regains consciousness and goes to attack the two, but Nathaniel just hands him their bags

Nathaniel: Thanks, man. Hey, you mind showing us around the place?

And that’s how Félix became their butler

When they arrive at the old funeral home, they’re given a very warm welcome.

Spirit of the House: GET OUT!

Marc: ... It’s hideous.

Nathaniel: It’s horrible...

Marc/Nathaniel: It’s home.

Weeks goes by, and more people begin to occupy the home, making amazing first impressions

Marinette and Alix actually snuck in and have been living in the walls for a short period of time until Félix found them

Marc found Rose resting in one of the open graves in the backyard

And Juleka Samara-crawled out of the swamp with her hair covering her face

The six of them share their backgrounds, sympathize with each other about how they were run out of their homes, and make the decision to change their last names to Artist

Now they’re sixteen while Alix is still fifteen

Meanwhile, down in Paris, Gabriel Agreste is taking the fashion world by storm, and his clothing (All basic and dull) is a big hit in Paris (For reasons no one understands but they won’t say anything for fear of not fitting in)

His son, Adrien Agreste goes for a bike ride through the woods with his two friends, Nino and Alya, where they come across the gate that separates outsiders from the Artists’ home

They’re immediately scared away when Marinette opens the creaking gate that sounds like the end of the world when opened

Also, Alix’s sinister sixteen is coming up in a few weeks, and part of the celebration is a swordfight, which she is nowhere near ready for

Nathaniel: Alix, you need to practice. It’s the day your family and friends judge you and pass judgement on your worth as a human being!... It reminds me of Hanukkah.

During one dinner, Marinette asks a question that shocks everyone

Marinette: Do you guys think things beyond the gate have changed?

Juleka: ... What?

Marinette: It’s been years, surely things must be different now. Earlier today, I swore I heard people.

Marc: Outside is forbidden.

Marinette: But-

Marc: Forbidden!

Back in the city, Gabriel is anticipating the arrival of tourists to buy his new line of clothing which he calls, Conformist

While filming a commercial, a red balloon floats astray and makes its way towards the Artists’ home, which Marinette finds as she’s “helping” Alix prepare for the Swordfight

Alix: Why are you helping me?

Marinette: Because. You are like my sister... And... I... Love... You...

Alix: ... You seem trustworthy.

Big mistake

Marinette: *Walks inside with the balloon* Good news, Alix is gone.

Marc: *Holding a sword to Nathaniel’s neck* Mari, go dig up Alix.

Marinette: You and Nathaniel are once again weakening this generation.

Nathaniel: *Points to balloon* Mari, where did you get that?

Marinette: I’m not sure.

Marc: Strange. There’s usually a murderous clown attached to the other end of these.

Juleka: *Gasp!* And what is this?! *Plucks a piece of pink confetti off of Marinette’s shoulder*

Nathaniel: Smells like cotton candy. *Off their confused looks* I was young and stupid, alright?

The Artists go outside where they find rainbow confetti raining down, and the fog that covers their home is lifting up, revealing to them the town

Much to Marc’s protests, Nathaniel suggests they go see the place for themselves

Marinette: This day is becoming most miraculously disruptive.

While filming another commercial, the Artist Family’s house is in the camera’s shot, and Gabriel passes out the second he sees it

*Somewhere else* Nino: ... I feel an overwhelming sense of... Joy.

The Artists arrive in their hearse, and immediately capture the attention of the other Parisians. They’re given strange looks wherever they go, and sometimes people run away screaming

No one has run them out with pitchforks yet. Yay!

Alix: Guys! *Pulls a tire off of a police car* They’re just giving these away!

Juleka: Alix, mind your manners, people might want tires, too.

After getting coffee grounds, the Artists come across Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, and Lila in the park, prancing around in pink and blue outfits and singing about being conformists

Rose: Wow... That is absolutely horrible!

Marinette: ... *Dumps coffee grounds* I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. However, that blonde boy... Intrigues me

And it seems the feeling is mutual when Adrien steals glances at the gothic girl with braids

Rose: ... Yeah, I’m done with this song. *She hikes up the hem of her robe, releasing hundreds of bats that scare off the crowd* Done and done!

Done with these people, Marc wants to leave, Nathaniel insists that things have changed, but his boyfriend is still reluctant... Cue Gabriel

He insists on hiring interior decorators to fix up the Artists home (So tourists aren’t scared off) Marc, with some urging from Nathaniel allows him to do so.

Marinette: That man seems deranged. His face reminds me of a death mask.

*Somewhere else* Nino: In the future... I will have a new friend. Blue hair. Braids.

Back at the Artists Home, Nathaniel, Juleka, and Rose help Alix prepare for her Swordfight

Rose: Of all the Sinister Sixteens I’ve seen, Nathaniel’s was the stuff of legends.

Juleka: So no pressure!

Gabriel, Adrien, the design crew, and the news crew arrive, ready to remove the gloom and macabre form the Artists’ home

Félix: *Answers the door* Youuuuuu raaaaaanng?

Adrien: *Calling Alya and Nino* Hey, so I’m going into the creepy mansion. If I don’t come back, I’m dead... I love you too, Nino... Yes, Alya, I know he’s your boyfriend.

Much to his relief, Adrien is left outside and goes around back to explore

Gabriel: I do hope this isn’t a bad time.

Nathaniel: The worst!... Do come in.

Gabriel spends most of the time making light criticisms and jabs at the decor, the Artists themselves, their clothes, and Marc’s spiders (Which he considers the greatest insult)

Meanwhile in the backyard, Adrien is nearly killed by a crossbow. To his horror and awe, he finds the shooter: Marinette in all of her dark glory

Immediately, he develops a small crush on her. She’s not like the other girls at school who constantly cling to and flirt with him because of his father’s wealth

He tries his hand at impressing her by shooting an arrow, but accidentally shoots Rose, which actually does impress Marinette

Adrien: So, why haven’t I seen you and your siblings at school?

Marinette: We’re coven-schooled. But, blondie, do tell... *Leans in close so she can hear Adrien’s rapid heartbeat* Can anyone attend your school?

Gabriel and his crew leave, having made no renovations to the Artists’ home. And when Nathaniel explains that family and friends will be coming over for Alix’s Sinister Sixteen, that just motivates the designer even more

Down in Gabriel’s secret lair, he spies on the Parisians through a social media app where he fills the comments section with rumors about the Artists, saying they’re anarchists and breed spiders... Okay, so they’re not all rumors

*The Next Day* Nathaniel: Monochrome, I know the man is an eccentric, but- *Marinette appears behind him* Aah!

Marc: Mari, you know Nathaniel scares easily. Practice your lurking on someone else. *Marinette appears behind him* Better. Now what’s on your mind?

Marinette explains that she wants to atener school, much to Marc’s horror and Nathaniel’s excitement. She needs to torment more kids her own age.

Marc doesn’t want her to go, worried she might fall under the influence of the... Conformists, but Nathaniel somehow convinced him

Marinette walking into school: Ah, so these are the gates of hell.

Adrien, while being crowded by girls he doesn’t even like (Especially Lila and Chloé) becomes awestruck when he sees Marinette walking in. She looks like a beautiful demon queen

Lila and Chloé see this and try to intimidate her, but this is what Marinette says,

Marinette: Listen you future plastic surgery disasters, I’m not locked in here with either of you. You and your outdated, distasteful “outfits” are locked in here with me. And don’t you forget it.

Alya just might dump Nino so she can ask this girl out. Polyamory works too. / Adrien: Back of the line.

Mendelive’s biology class: They’re dissecting frogs.

Adrien: Aw, I feel bad for doing this.

Marinette: Relax. Rose showed me how to do this hundreds of times. *Cue Frankenstein equipment* FLIP THE SWITCH! *Adrien flips the switch and electrocutes all of the frogs* LIVE! LIVE MY CREATURE!

The frogs come to life and attack Lila and Chloé. Karma at its finest. Alya and Nino are impressed by her more than ever

Alya: It is an honor and a privilege to watch you work, spooky girl.

Back at the Artists’ Home, it’s game night! They’re playing the game of Death, but Marc isn’t focused. It’s late and he’s wondering where Marinette is

Finally, she arrives, but much to Marc’s horror, she has a Ladybug hair clip! He’s in so much shock that his face flushes red and a bat has to drink his blood

Marc: What. Is. That?

Marinette: Adrien calls it a “Pop of color” says it brings out my... Smile.

Marc: You don’t have a smile.

In order to see what’s going on with his sister/friend, Marc suggests they do ‘Tea & Seance’ like old times... Only she bails to hang out with Adrien, and they give each other makeovers as acts of rebellion

Meanwhile, Alix is upset because she still can’t get the hang of sword fighting and Nathaniel has been working so hard to help her

Marinette returns from her hangout with Adrien, almost making Marc faint when she shows up wearing pink and her hair in pigtails.

Marc: Okay, this is where I sever the line! You are not going back to that school!

Marinette: *Gives him the evil eye before leaving* You can’t tell me what to do.

Juleka: Dear Hades, that is some evil eye.

Horrified by Adrien’s new gothic look and attitude, Gabriel spreads more rumors about the Artists

Frustrated by the lack of support from her family/friends, Marinette runs away and goes to stay with Adrien

Alix: I always knew it would end up like this. Just didn’t know when.

Marinette: Farewell, Alix! I will never forget you, but I’ll try.

The next morning, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are helping Adrien look for his phone, which Gabriel his hidden punishment for his new look

While looking, they stumble across Gabriel’s lair and discover he’s been spying on everyone in Paris. Gabriel discovers them snooping and locks them in Adrien’s room while he goes to greet the tourists... And some unexpected guests

Nathalie: *Dials Gabriel* Gabriel, it’s an emergency. They’re here! The Artist Family!

The Artists more... Eccentric family members (Gina Dupain, Uncle Wang, Master Fu, Luka, Fei, Jagged, Penny, and the art teacher for example) have arrived to attend Alix’s sinister sixteen.

Things are going well so far. Juleka reunites with Luka, Fei battles Gina to the death, but Marinette still hasn’t arrived, so they do the sword fight without her... Which Alix fails.

As Nathaniel consoles her, a cannonball shoots through the wall. Gabriel somehow got a catapult for the mob to use

Marc: It’s Gabriel. He’s turned the town into a mob.

Juleka: I oddly admire his determination.

While the mob fires more cannonballs and destroy the house, Alix tosses her sword and grabs her explosives, successfully protecting her family... Until a cannonball blocks their only exit and she runs out of ammo

Just as the ceiling begins to fall and it seems like the end, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino come in just in time and save them all thanks to the possessed tree

She and Marc reconcile

Marc: I’m so glad you came back.

Marinette: Of course. There was no way you all could survive without me. You’re like weak kittens.

The Parisians begin having regrets about attacking the Artists (Mainly cuz they almost killed a bunch of kids), but this is interrupted by Gabriel

Gabriel: I will relish hounding you all until that nuclear waste dump you call is house is destroyed with you all in it!

Juleka: Oh, you are just begging to be dragged down to hell, aren’t you, Gabriel?

Marinette: And this family will never run from the likes of you again. *Her death glare stuns Gabriel*

Nino: Damn, I gotta learn how to do that.

Adrien finally stands up to his father and exposes how he’s been spying on everyone in the city while Alya live streams everything. Gabriel is now ruined

Months later, the Artists’ Home has been rebuilt by the guilty Parisians who learn to accept their new, weird neighbors. Also, the Spirit of the House has returned

Adrien and Marinette start dating while Alya and Nino share a mutual pining for the girl

#miraculous ladybug #marc x nathaniel #the addams family #the artist family #marinette dupain cheng #alix kudbel #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #answered ask #ask me stuff #addams family au #mlb au #mlb crossover

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brattyfics · 3 years

Text

Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone.

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed.

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting.

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck!

Pride.

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing.

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well.

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him.

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers.

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into.

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear.

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault.

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late.

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help.

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.”

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing.

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass.

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen.

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning.

Tall, fit, well-dressed.

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.”

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at.

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking.

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively.

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls?

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.”

Hmm. A kindred spirit.

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling?

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive.

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow.

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men.

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile.

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously.

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?”

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men.

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears.

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?”

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came.

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve.

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face.

Hysterically.

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him.

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched.

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

#mayans mc #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo x black!oc #miguel galindo x reader

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scarlet--wiccan · 3 years

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I'm making up Avengers formations on my mind and other than the realization that there are TOO MANY AMERICAN, NEW YORK BASED HEROES in Marvel Comics, I also realized that... I forgot what I was going to say, it took me ages to come back to this ask (I left the phone). Anyways, I started to think about the Adventures universe where Storm, instead of Thor, and Giant-Girl (Janet) are on the main team and I was left thinking: what kind of relationship / dynamic would Storm, who was briefly associated with the team on the main universe through her relationship with T'Challa, have with Janet and Wanda if they were ever to be on the same team? And then I started to think, which other non-Americans and characters of color would you want to hang out with Wanda. Like, now that Echo bonded with the Phoenix Force, I think: what kind of dynamic would they have? And then there's Moon Knight, Blade, T'Challa, Shang-Chi. So many other characters, so much potential for interesting dynamics.

You don't really have to rush to answer this ask or answer at all. Just wanted to share a bit of positivity on your askbox. :D

I thought I could come up with an interesting answer by making a list of every character of color that has ever been a member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, after weeding out mutants, dead people, and anyone that's depowered or otherwise occupied, the list ended up being pretty small-- and some of those characters were people that I just don't have any particular interest in playing off of Wanda. So that wasn't helpful! I think the shortlist was about thirteen characters, and most of them were American.

I'm not very familiar with Moon Knight, but I understand that he's pretty mystical and is tied to mythological settings, ancient gods, and all that. I love seeing Wanda operate in that space, and I think they'd click on certain things-- like having an overbearing, somewhat sinister god breathing down your neck, or bouts of offensively written mental health disorders.

I bet that Wanda and Maya would get along well. Wanda has some interesting experience with the Phoenix, and even though I found the order-vs.-chaos concept from AvX to be kind of forced, you could probably do something cool with the idea that Wanda's magic can counter the Phoenix Force. As an ally, she could help Maya safely practice and explore her new power. We've also seen in Star, and even Jean Grey, that Wanda sees her own struggles reflected in people who have had great and terrible power thrust upon them, and she's strongly motivated to help those people whenever possible. I think she would be one to support and advocate for Maya, all the way.

Wanda's got some cool magic friends, like Elizabeth Twoyoungmen and Alice Gulliver. There are also some interesting characters from Doctor Strange (2016) such as Xandra Xu and Médico Místico. Obviously, her boyfriend Jericho is top of the list. There's also, you know, Doom. They have a lot of baggage and animosity, but I also think they'd work really well as reluctant allies. Victor, Wanda, and Pietro actually have very similar backgrounds, even among Marvel's Roma characters, so I think that the correct writer could mine a lot of great character work out of putting those three in a room again.

I really love seeing Wanda and Monica as friends. They don't have a whole lot in common, in terms of life experiences, but I do think they would have gravitated towards each other during their earlier days in the Avengers. There have been times where they were the only the only women of color in the room, and they also have a common tongue-- they both speak French! I really, really like the image of Wanda, Pietro, Monica and Jericho holding a full conversation in French. Anyhow, I want more Mon/Wanda friendship always.

I would like to see Wanda team up with Mantis again. You could probably find cool ways to use Mantis's psychic abilities, particularly the astral projection, in conjunction with magic. They have some very interesting shared history -- they had a double wedding together, had children around the same time, suffered very similar losses and heartbreak, and now they both have kids who are space royalty. As far as I'm aware, they haven't spent any time together in decades, but if there's ever another Celestial Madonna-related story like Empyre, I want to see them reunite and be cool tough-mom duo.

Oh, and I'd also be very interested in seeing Wanda meet America. I know that America's whole backstory is in flux right now-- and I'm very frustrated by this, so I'm choosing to ignore it for now. I'd be curious to know what role Wanda plays in the mythology of the Utopian Parallel.

Those are just some ideas that popped into my head. If you're looking for a team roster, I would throw Wanda, Pietro, Mon, and Jer together with Maya, Miguel Santos, and Adam Brashear. These characters are mostly in the same age range and have some amount of established history, with varied, but overlapping abilities. Throw America in as a wild card and call it a day. Oh, and Blade. Witches and vampires, you know?

#i feel like I barely represented any Asian characters but that's bc most of my favorite Asian characters are either mutants or Kamala

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texanredrose · 3 years

Text

Okay, to put some limitations on this, I’m only including the WIPs that I’ve done more than a synopsis for... that I can remember... that’s on Google Drive... that I actually think I might post one day... but haven’t posted yet because my posted WIPs are fairly easy to identify... okay... I got tagged by @unsteadyshade and I’m tagging @faunusrights and @alexlayer69

1) Across Time - Inuyasha AU where Weiss gets thrown back in time to the ancient past, where she meets two demons (Yang and Blake) warring against each other over a misunderstanding.

2) Alpha’s Devotion - Omega’s Strength, but from Winter’s POV.

3) Bears, Oh My - An exhausted Winter, lost on a hike, comes across a cabin where Yang lives with her three pet bears.

4) Brave New World - Continuation of the Dishonored AU where Ruby and Winter reflect on the new Mantle.

5) Bruised - Third installment to the ace!Yang AU.

6) Coming Home - Based on Dash’s Tiny Knight AU, Princess Blake is betrayed and stranded far from home and must rely on a reticent knight named Weiss to return to her kingdom.

7) Complications Always Arise - Papa Schnee is demanding Weiss marry before he’ll allow her to take his place as head of the SDC, so Yang volunteers to pretend to be Weiss’ beloved. No one else knows the relationship is fake, least of all Blake and Winter, and it’s just a bunch of pain.

8) Divided - Continuation of the By Moonlight AU where Whitley returns to the castle and Winter’s not upset by that- and Winter’s upset by the fact she’s not upset and has to figure out why her inner wolf is cool with this when she should, by all rights, be furious.

9) Dragonsbane - Mage Knight Winter hears tale of a dragon in the countryside that the local villages wish to see vanquished. Winter, however, has other plans.

10) Eye of the Beholder - Blinded and near death after a battle, Winter is rescued by the mysterious Yang and is nursed back to health despite her protests otherwise. (It’s a Medusa!AU.)

11) Fabled - Fable 3 AU where Princess Ruby and Princess Yang are forced to confront the fact that Queen Raven has lost her fucking mind, only to discover that fear drove the woman insane- a fear they must confront themselves.

12) Fields of Love - Farmer Yang offers a job and housing to apparent single mother Winter and her young daughter Penny. What starts as a kind gesture grows into something so much more.

13) Full Circle - Van Helsing (2004) AU, Winter and Weiss, amnesiacs employed by the church to handle all manner of unholy problems, are sent to discover what happened to King Taiyang. Along the way, they become wrapped up in a centuries spanning prophecy and a bloodline hanging in the balance.

14) High Bar, Low Blow - Yang owns a bar where the gimmick is that everyone’s an out of work actor and the staff is staging an ongoing drama on par with a soap opera to keep their customers coming back. Winter joins the staff and then things get a bit real.

15) Hoodlums and Hijinks - Robin Hood AU where Princess Winter and Princess Weiss are just as in favor for overthrowing the king as the group of bandits run by Ruby, Yang, and Blake.

16) Last One 2: Electric Boogaloo (title subject to change) - a sequel to Last One where the haunt continues.

17) Lexical Access - Sequel to Tip of the Tongue, where Yang gives her girlfriend a bit of roleplaying payback.

18) Little Red - Carmen Sandiego AU where Ruby was kidnapped adopted by a group of thieves and raised to become the world’s greatest thief, but a chance meeting with Penny via a stolen phone opens her eyes to the wider world, and she meets the rebellious heiress Weiss, street smart Blake, and brawler Yang, creating a team that works to foil Ruby’s former friends while eluding capture by mysterious operatives with a somewhat familiar white color scheme...

19) Long Term Investment - Yang, a fae who lives in the woods, makes a deal with Princess Winter to save the Queen. The price? Winter’s firstborn. Winter misunderstands how she’s expected to get pregnant and Yang’s never actually intended to collect. Next thing Yang knows, Winter’s moving into the clearing beside her tree home.

20) Miscalculation - Another Omegaverse AU where Weiss is an omega and Blake and Yang are alphas, except Weiss lied and said she was an alpha when enrolling in Beacon and now she’s locked in a room with Blake and Yang on the verge of starting her heat. Sharing is caring.

21) More Than Words Can Say - Winter, rendered mute by a military accident early in her career, is honestly the best girlfriend Yang’s ever had. However, tonight’s the night they’ve decided to get intimate, and that includes showing some scars that they don’t show often. It’s less about sex and more about trust and intimacy.

22) Music of the Night - Phantom of the Opera AU where the mysterious, disfigured shade of the opera house, Weiss, finds herself at odds with the rich, jovial Yang in a competition for Blake’s heart. Then there’s Adam being a dick, too, and the opera house has never seen so much drama.

23) My Heart Will Go On - It’s the Titanic, but double the rich, unwilling-to-marry ladies and triple the won-a-ticket-to-a-ship ruffians. Penny’s there too; she, like Ruby, just really likes ships.

24) One Fucking Favor - Winter’s due for a long assignment and wants to make a sex tape for stress relief purposes. Yang doesn’t ask questions; she’s just the one with the camera. But then, Winter’s partner for the vid doesn’t show up. What’s Yang going to do about it?

25) Prophecy - Star Wars AU where Ruby, Yang, and Blake are trained as Jedi, Winter and Weiss are part of the clone army, and Ruby’s the chosen one. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, but Senator Salem is there to lend a helping hand...

26) Propositioned - Faunus experience bouts of heat; sometimes, they can safely ignore it and go about their lives, but every now and again, they really can’t. Concerned for Blake’s health as she’s skipped too many heats to be healthy, Yang sets up a partner for Blake’s heat. Blake’s not a fan but she does like the idea of banging Weiss Schnee.

27) Proven - ARK: Survival Evolved AU where Winter, after being ‘won’ by Yang, is taken into the bowels of the earth to learn how the underground tribes who inhabit the area survive in such an unforgiving environment. As she acclimates to the tribe’s ways, she finds herself carving out her own path, culminating in facing off against the Queen and proving herself worthy.

28) Reaping What You Sow - When Winter escaped to the countryside with Penny to start a farm, she knew she had her work cut out for her. In need of help and facing a harsh cold season, she hires Yang, a one armed drifter, to help her. The two end up needing the other more than they could’ve imagined.

29) Tear My Heart Open - Blake thought she understood how the world worked. As a member of the White Fang Gang, all she needed to do was keep everyone motivated to continue their ongoing street war against the police and authorities bent on keeping them down. But while running from the cops, she’s offered sanctuary in the home of one Weiss Schnee and her girlfriend, Yang. From there, her perception of the world is completely upended.

30) The Duel - After her father offered her hand in marriage to the winner of a tournament, Winter opted to assume a disguise and fight for the prize herself. In the final match, she faces Yang Xiao Long, a competitor she’s come to know quite well, and she finds her conviction to win wavering slightly. Is it enough to lose her the fight?

31) The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Weiss has made it; she’s opened her tattoo shop in Vale, well away from her father, and aside from a bad first impression with the florists across the parking lot, everything’s looking up for her- until her father finds her. Luckily, Blake’s been through some shit and doesn’t mind helping Weiss drive daddy dearest up the wall, even if it means letting her own parents think she’s dating Weiss. It’s not like either of them is going to catch feelings... unless...

32) The Princess’ Bride - After losing her fiancée to the dreaded White Fang Pirates, Yang vows to take to the sea herself and exact her revenge. Princess Weiss finds herself falling madly in love with Yang, who still loves Blake, and all this is thrown into even more chaos when Yang gets kidnapped and Blake comes back from the dead!

33) Two for One - Yes, another Omegaverse AU. Five years after the fall of Beacon, Yang and Blake cross paths, each believing the other has spent the time keeping their mutual mate, Weiss, safe. When they realize Weiss is with neither of them, old wounds are torn open, but before they can resolve their dispute, Winter captures the both of them and hauls them to a remote part of Atlas where an SDC facility has been turned into a fortress. There, they find a mortally wounded Weiss clinging to life and raising twins daughters; she gives her mates until her death to endear themselves to their children, else the twins might opt to stay with Winter and be kept from Blake and Yang for good. Between learning about their kids, Blake and Yang navigate their complicated feelings and try to reconnect with Weiss, all while a sinister force gathers to destroy the fortress and steal the prize within.

34) Weaknesses - Loosely set in the Glamour AU, Yang is being forced to assume her mother’s position as leader of their vampire coven. Her fellow vamps disapprove of Yang’s werewolf girlfriend. Winter, of course, doesn’t care.

I got lazy and cut a bunch out. No, fuck you, I don’t have too many AUs, I will add more if I want. Also, some of these, the first chapter is posted on my Patreon. Don’t ask me which ones; I genuinely have no idea. I’m bad at this, y’all.

#Me jokingly: I'll number them so I can prove I don't have too many!#Present me is pissed at past me #I just know someone's gonna come at me for this but whatever #I can't control the words they just come as they please

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kirathehyrulian · 3 years

Photo

🎨SPN RB 2020🎨 👿Little Devil👿 Art Master Post

[• Tumblr •][• LiveJournal •][• 2020 Masterlist •]

Artist: @kirathehyrulian | LiveJournal | Ao3

Author: @hitthebooksposts | LiveJournal | Ao3 | Storylink: Ao3 Pairing: Gencest Fic Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Word Count: 3200 Summary: For once, it looks like Dean and Sam have the chance of living like normal kids for a while. Stay in one place. Go to school. Have friends. But of course, that's not how it turns out.

For more art from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr. 👇(Artist Notes and spoilers below the cut) 👇

Artist Notes:

Oh gowd, I feel so tired right now. I just finished the second illustration this morning. I pulled an all-nighter trying to get it done and my (brain? body?) is not too happy with me.

I had just finshed all my eldritches about a week or so ago. It was a lot of art, and right after SPN Eldritch was over with I started working on “Little Devil’s” title card. What sucks is that I was battling art block after Eldritch, so it was extra hard trying to motivate myself to get the drawings out.

I don’t know if the time crunched helped or not. I do know that a main motivator for my art was knowing that my author relied on me for art. So I pushed through as best I could so I could give my author something.

I guess I should talk about the RB image that inspired the fic. The RB image is the image directly below the title card. This was my art preview description: Title of prompt: ...Dean Rating of Art: Teen Highest Rating Fic Can Be: Explicit Pairing or Gen: Wincest or Gencest Characters: Has to have Sam and Dean Warnings: Blood Short description of art: Sad, young, demon!sam crying on the floor of his room and bleeding from the new horns on his head. Wings have bursted from his hoodie and he has a tail wrapped around his leg. Sam is calling out to Dean, whether for help or mercy is up to the author. Dean's shadow is on the floor, and his reflection is in the mirror. Do Not Wants: scat, separation of brothers, character bashing, destiel Artist is willing to make more pieces to go with the story: No, unless inspiration and time permits.

When going into the RB I didn’t have a lot of ideas, so I just combined and drew themes that interest me, which is Sam angst, Sam’s demon blood, hurt!sam, and the brother’s dynamic. I was in the mood for eldritch at the time so I tried to make the image reminiscent of a horror scenario. It’s night time. The main light is the glow from a TV. Sam’s bleeding and has a expression of sad horror on his face. His body is posed in a vulnerable child like position of helplessness. His eyes glow yellow in the dark. There’s a sinister red light in behind the door. The house has old muted wall paper, and there’s a shadow of Dean’ silhouette stretched across the carpet and reflected in the mirror in the background.

The title card and second illustration center around Sam hiding in the janitor closet at the middle school in the story. I tried to make weechesters actually look like Jared and Jensen, because in my mind’s eye that’s what young Sam and Dean really look like, not really the child actors that portrayed them. I think I did okay enough. The more I do it, I’m hoping the better I’ll get at making weechesters in enough time.

I didn’t really listen to anything specific while drawing this collection, so I don’t have any musical inspiration to share. I can’t really think of anything else to add, so I think I’m done.

And, as always,

Enjoy, if you can!♥

#sam winchester #dean winchester #spn fanart #dean winchester appreciation #sam winchester appreciation #yellow eyed!sam #demon!sam #tagging for the squeamish #gencest #cw: blood #spnreversebang #2020 #spn events #myart #hurt!sam #sad!sam #weechesters #young!sam #young!dean

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bbnibini · 3 years

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – sixty-four🔖

While being kabedoned had definitely been a part of your bucketlist, you were expecting it to be more…romantic. Not in a seedy corner of a street, done by your flustered bouquet thief who looked like he’d been through hell/Devildom or whatever its figurative namesake was. The terms are blurry after actually staying in the place for almost a year. He didn’t look like he had much sleep—his unkempt uniform seemed even more untidy than usual. His necktie was a breath away from you, finding yourself reaching your hand to tie it for him when you heard him speak.

“Yer my only hope, human!”

Hope? In what? For what? He was getting a little too close so you placed your hands on his shoulders to push him away, earning his flustered apologies. “You could have just messaged me.”

Mammon looked confused. His eyes looked at you incredulously as if you’re saying something absurd. “Do you think Satan would make it easy tryin’ to get to ya? I almost died there last night!”

“Were his worries warranted?”

“Of course not.” His voice sounded weak in reply. “Didn’t ya say you’d hear me out?”

You had a feeling there’s more to the situation than it seemed. Mammon’s motives were barely even scratching the surface. Everyone started acting really weirdly last night—Levi in particular seemed like he was on the verge of blurting out whatever conspiracy they were keeping amongst themselves from you. You were touched by his loyalty, but were also concerned about why they were going to such extents in the first place. Lucifer was usually the notorious secret keeper of the family—to involve his brothers in his secrets was the last thing he’d ever want to do. From your months of knowing him, you had at least an idea that the eldest sibling wasn’t the type to share his burdens with his family if he had a choice.

“Of course. But…” You looked around and smiled awkwardly at him. “Is this really the right time and place for that? I was supposed to meet with Satan.”

You saw the colour leave his face. It was as if the thought only came to him at your suggestion.

“E-Even so!” His façade was cracking at every second.

“?”

“Just come with me, darn human! Before he comes for me!”

A cold hand squeezed yours that felt small despite the fact that it enveloped your own. With relent, you shook your head and sighed, willing whatever consequences he may face and sharing his burdens. “Just how did he even punish you?”

You heard a gah! Squeak out of him as his face paled upon remembering. With a soft and unsure voice(and more respectful gestures that placed some distance between both of you), he answered. “Seventy five.”

“Pardon?”

You saw him bite his lip as you asked for an elaboration. Then, a blush coloured his cheeks that hinted of his embarrassment. “I should score 75 in all my subjects or else I’ll sksnjhfddfkjdf—“

“You lost me at or else I’ll—“

“IF I FAIL MY EXAMS I’LL GET HANGED!” His shaky voice finally let out all its steam in frustration. “I’m so tired of this crap! I really had a reason for this time and…” No, he shouldn’t be getting angry at you. You were his only ally on this. The fact that you’re even willing to listen to him proved that at least you cared for him and you had faith in him.

“Sorry.” He pulled away from you and placed a hand atop your head. “Yer the one who got affected by this. I shouldn’t get angry atcha. It’s just…frustrating.”

Mammon, more often than not, suffers the blunt of his brothers’ ires. Witnessing it already indicated its severity, but you wondered just how strongly would it be felt by actually experiencing it yourself? By putting yourself in his shoes?

“I’m sorry you feel that way Mammon.” You hid behind him again once you noticed some classmates passing by your corner. You really wanted to comfort him right now, but this isn’t the time. “We should talk about this in a more private place.”

He nodded in understanding and offered his hand. “You don’t have to help me. In fact, I might get in deeper trouble if ya help me study. Just …think with me. Please? I know it’s weird I’m asking ya this but…I can’t ask anyone else.”

You know that feeling, at least even a semblance of it. To face hardships alone with no one to lean on, to be faced by something you’re too small to handle by yourself but have no choice but to endure alone—you wondered. How long had Mammon been lonely in his own thoughts? Who really understood him? Surely you didn’t. A conversation ago, you had bitter feelings towards his “betrayal”(even if you were aware there was more to the situation than he let on). Perhaps the idea that we can spare some thoughts and care to someone else when we, alone are facing our own hardships is already a miracle in itself. After all, the world surely doesn’t revolve only at us. Even when we disappear, we return to the earth as something barely recognisable as us. Fragments of us could only exist in other’s memories and someday, even they would disappear too. If such an inevitable would happen in the future, then why should we care so much?

“Okay,” You found the answer to your many thoughts when you took the hand he offered. To see the storm in his eyes calm at your understanding made you feel that even he might be considering those thoughts despite the huge divide on your lifespan and race. Or perhaps you’d only like to think so to feel a closer connection to him. “What do you want to do, Mammon?”

“Pass.”

“Well, of course!” You laughed, conscious of his joking tone. “We can ask someone to help you. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Don’t involve me in your problems, idiot brother.”

Rejected on the spot. You thought the offer of the latest memory foam pillow would do the trick, but it only earned you Belphegor’s disgusted look once he put two-and-two together and realised you’d been in on his dearest brother’s plans as well.

“Even for two pillows?”

“Are you kidding me?” There was now a frown on his face as he looked up at Mammon. “Get lost. And you!” He turned to you, annoyed. “Let’s just leave this idiot alone to suffer the consequences of his actions. Why are you even helping him?”

“Because he’s my friend.” You answered on instinct.

Purple pairs of eyes looked at you in shock. He seemed to be muttering something to himself, but it was too soft for you to hear. “You trust him so much, but you couldn't do the same for me."

“Belphie?”

“It’s nothing.” It didn’t sound like it was nothing. “I want a nap. Leave, you two.”

“But classes—“

“Just…leave.” Despite declining your request, you left the pillows for him anyway and bade him goodbye. For a fleeting second, you felt sadness in his eyes as you turned away from him and asked Mammon about your next plans. A part of you felt like you should have stayed with him. But you wondered why…

“Well that was a bust.” Mammon jutted his lips into a frown. “The only other smart person I know is Lucifer and…you know that option ain’t even viable.”

“Satan—“

“Are you flippin’ me, human?! You want me to really die?!”

Well. Satan was the best option, that was true. But both of you highly doubted he would ever willingly tutor someone he had been conspiring punishments against. Mammon was very vocal with his bitterness towards the fourth-born, and was spouting expletives that would make even the most vulgar of sailors blush.

“That freakin’ two-faced jerk! Just wait till I—“

“Just wait until I what?”

You were familiar with that aura. A mop of gold on your peripheral confirmed Mammon’s worst nightmare. There was pain on your shoulders as his nails dug into you, his taller form hiding behind yours almost like a shield. The only weapon his adversary had, meanwhile was a cold smile on his lips, green eyes glowing in sinister shades as you felt pressure in the air.

“You have 10 seconds to run. I can only be so patient.”

Mammon swallowed, giving into his survival instincts in a heartbeat. “S-see ya in Purgatory Hall, human!” You heard him cry out as he ran like the wind. “I’LL BE WAITING!”

“Now,” you felt Satan’s gaze at you as Mammon left. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?

Don’t act cute to get away from this! It’s not going to work.”

You were a little scared of him, but beneath all that wrath, you knew your Satan was in there. To be fair, the idea of acting cute to get your way didn’t sit right with you either. So you did what you could only do: be honest with him.

“I wanted to help him.” Your eyes didn’t turn away from his. You refused to show fear; not for your sake, but his. You witnessed him growing weary every time his representative sin takes over him—how he’s genuinely trying not to hurt anyone, especially you. Taking his hand, you rested your cheek against his palm. “But until I hear his own reasons for doing so, can you please let me try and make judgements for myself?”

You saw him considering the thought. His eyes were still muddled but was slowly gaining composure. He touched your other cheek with his free hand, feeling it trembling slightly. “How can you be so understanding? So…unafraid?”

You kissed his palm and smiled at him. “Because I have nothing to fear, Satan. You won’t ever hurt me.”

Those words were what he needed to hear at that moment. You were right. Beneath all that wrath and rage, he was there, wide-eyed and vulnerable. What else can you do but hold him in your arms? “Is something bothering you right now?” You asked him as you stroked his head. “Does it concern me?”

“How did—“

“You worry so much over others rather than yourself. See?” Holding him by his cheeks, you kissed the tears forming in his eyes. “You’re doing it right now.”

It was a relief to finally see him smile(even if it’s just a little). “You’re the only one who says that.”

“And it won’t be the last one you'd ever hear from me.”

You stayed still in an embrace for quite a while, calming both of your thoughts with your own heartbeats. As the transience of the moment started to scatter in the flow of time, you felt the world move again. “I have something to tell you.”

What something was it that he requested access for the restricted section in the library? You saw runes being cast on the entrance door as he sat next to you on the settee. Hundreds of books filled the room with its musty, dusty scent, seeing better days between their pages. Familiar school supplies and cat items were scattered surreptitiously in each area—something new about him that you learned again today. Something you’d like to ask about later when the seriousness of your situation subsides.

He saw the question in your eyes and smiled a little as he answered it for you. “Yes, I stay here for long periods of time. And I had plans to show it to you in a more…romantic light than right now.”

“Just being with you is romantic enough.” You answered earnestly, which made the colour on his cheeks turn a lovely pink. He cleared his throat. “As much as I’d love to make this a more romantic summon, I can’t. Not if your life is in danger.”

Alertness registered on your features. “My life?”

He held you by your hands and squeezed them.

“Yes, kitten. Your life. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

Now you’re starting to feel nervous. Satan had always been quite the worry-wart when matters come to you, but he seemed more apprehensive than usual. “Where did you get the flowers?”

Huh? Flowers? The bouquet? Your answer was almost instinctual.

“From you?”

You felt him squeeze your hands tighter. With a shaking head, he told you, “Kitten, I only sent you one. The bouquet is not mine.”

Then some proverbial cogs in your brain started to turn as he spoke. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as memories started flashing back in your mind: what did you read in that Flower Language book again?

“!!!”

You heard him call your name. “What is it?”

But instead of answering, you scrambled through your memories to remember the passages in the book as much as you could.

But wait. Do carnations even exist in Devildom? How would someone be able to procure one in the first place? This must have cost a pretty penny. You hesitated to take it after all until you noticed the single carnation was but a stray that lost its way from its bouquet…”

“A pink carnation in human world flower language means, I will never forget you…”

“Satan…” you looked at him in confusion. It was your turn to squeeze his hand.

Honestly? You didn’t really know what to feel. However, you were sure of one thing: you had questions you wanted to be answered.

“Is the one who sent me the bouquet…trying to kill me?”

Realising his blunder, he kissed your forehead to pacify you. “Sorry. I did not mean to scare you. We don’t have any solid proof yet besides the tin of cookies—“

“Cookies?”

So you didn’t know anything at all, he thought. Satan was beginning to worry if telling you all of this when the issue had not been resolved is the right choice. “When you checked your locker that day, what did you get?”

Despite the cacophony going on in your head right now, you urged yourself to answer. “A bouquet of carnations, a tin of cookies and a love letter…”

“Love letter?”

You nodded. “Someone sent one to me but he never really revealed himself. I didn’t think anything of it. As for the cookies...”

“Love, it’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Barbatos already investigated about the cookies. The tin was poisoned. The antidote should have worked now.”

“Antidote?”

Satan frowned, torn. “Lucifer laced antidote in your meals, apparently. I wasn’t even aware until last night.”

Was that what Lucifer meant when he said you’ll know soon? Just how many secrets is that demon even keeping from all of you? But then again, Lucifer is Lucifer. To him perhaps, this is his own way of protecting all of you. Always shouldering the burden for his and his alone, never even considering if other people cared about him taking such burdens by himself. Pride was a sin that ails the mind and the hearts of those who are loved, however unaware. You wondered if his brothers ever felt the same way as you are feeling right now. Then again, they always had an awkward way of showing that they genuinely care about each other.

“No getting mad at Lucifer. You’re frowning right now, aren’t you?”

“Tsk.”

“Deep down, you know he cares.”

“That’s the most disgusting thing I ever heard.”

Pfft. Typical Satan.

Laughing, you buried your face on the crook of his neck. “Actually, maybe getting mad at him a little is okay,”

“I’m mad at him all the time.”

“I know!” You laughed again and pulled away from him. “I take it that everyone besides Mammon knows already?”

“Levi blurted it out, didn’t he?”

“Almost,” you shook your head and smiled. “Thank you for protecting me, Satan. I now understand what caused you that reaction last night.”

You felt like he held you tighter than usual. You wanted to argue that you weren’t some fleeting human like his carnation but with the situation now, you couldn’t really tell. Maybe he had every reason to be protective of you.

“I have to make some investigations myself. I’m sorry.”

You wished you didn't understand what he meant. It would be a lie if you’d say that you wouldn’t miss him at all. But this was for your own safety. “I’ll do my best to stay still and not worry you.” You answered back. You weren’t stupid. You were barely exposed to the dangers of Devildom because of the joint efforts of the student council and Lord Diavolo’s vassals. Add that to the fact that you barely had any magic in you and you’re basically a meal on wheels for most of the demons here. Pacts can only go a long way either. It was best to be careful.

“As much as I am against it, I feel like Mammon’s presence is good for you right now.”

“Wait—does it mean?!”

Satan sighed and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “As much of a scum he may be, he’s quite reliable. It would be reassuring to know you will be together at times I could not stay by your side.”

“Woo! I love you, Sataaaaan!~” He laughed when you tackled him on the settee, receiving your head rubs and hugs unabashed. “Did I ever tell you you’re amazing? The best demon brother out of the Seven? Don’t tell the others though.”

Smiling, he answered--all the love in the world reflected in his eyes as he looked at you. “I’d be troubled if I wasn’t, dearest.”

“Oh hey! Yer finally he—Gah! What is he doing here?!” Mammon looked betrayed when he saw his brother standing beside you. Ah. Satan seemed like he can’t be bothered to explain anything. He looked at you expectantly.

Messenger mode: ON

“He was just escorting me here. He’s going to go somewhere else.”

“If he’s gonna agree we can look for a tutor together, he shoulda said so!”

Mammon looked confused when Satan leaned on your ear and whispered his something to you. It was utterly childish and petty, yes… but you decided to humour him. Hah, love was blinding you terribly. “He says don’t get your hopes up.”

“What the heck?”

Another whisper and Satan left.

“So what did he say this time? Oi! Earth to human? You there?”

“...nothing.”

…because the bloody bastard bit and blew on your ear!

You shrugged off any more questions that Mammon raised about your weird behaviour(and your incredibly flushed face), and instead directed the conversation to asking his progress on his tutor search. He had told you (in a hopeful tone) that Solomon might agree to teach him as long as he can offer a bargain that would benefit the sorcerer. It sounded pretty shady, but you were both desperate and were left with no other options so you didn’t really give any more thoughts to its obvious consequences in the future. In terms of brains, Solomon was no doubt, an excellent student. He lives up to his name as the Witty Sorcerer after all. Surely with a pact of a powerful demon like Mammon, he would definitely—

“Yeah, about that…I already said that and he declined.”

“Oh?” How surprising. You were quite sure that he would agree.

“Want to ask Simeon then?”

Mammon shook his head. “He’s hosting some party thing with Levi, remember?”

Oh yeah! Ruri-chan’s birthday party. You almost forgot!

“…then, how about me?”

Mammon flicked your forehead and frowned. “I’d get in trouble, stupiiiid.”

“Want to ask Belphie again?”

Mammon was considering the thought, but he already blew his budget on buying the expensive memory foam pillows you bought for the youngest as your bribe. “Got any cash then?”

“Hahaha—“

“Thought so.”

You signed in unison, dejected over the bleakness of his situation.

“Ah, you’re still here?”

…until his ray of light finally descended upon him again.

“Solomon, my man!” The said man effectively dodged Mammon’s attempts of skinship. With a vague smile on his face, he tilted his head and noticed your presence. “Oh, you’re here too?”

“Emergency meeting time! Code M, I’ll secure the target.”

“Hah! I’d like to see you try! The Great Me was already turned down, you know?”

Well, that’s true. Compared to Mammon: a powerful demon, Solomon wouldn’t really gain anything from doing you a favour. You considered using Lucifer as a bargaining chip, but thinking of the consequences of that risk, you concluded that it wasn’t worth it.

“Soooooooo Solomon…” You forced a smile. “How have you been doing lately?”

Catching your intentions, the sorcerer smiled to himself and played along. “You wanted to ask something from me, don’t you?”

!!!

“W-what do you mean? I was just interested in your well-being!”

“Oh, a sudden interest in my well-being, I see. But what for?”

“I-“ Crap. This man is a fortress!

“I told ya. You ain’t getting through him with that weak ass excuses yer pullin’!”

You mouthed for Mammon to shut up or else you’d blow your cover, not knowing that there wasn’t much of a cover to fall back from the start.

You were bad at this! It felt bad to lie anyway so you decided to shed your false pretences and be honest with him. You felt more comfortable doing so anyway! Holding his hand, you made sure to look at him straight in the eyes so he would know you are being sincere.

Deals, deals. What could this conniving man ever benefit from you? Surely there’s something he would want from you! But what?

“Please tutor Mammon!”

…as you thought: you had nothing to bargain to win him over. Well at least you tried.

“It’s okay, Solomon. I understand. Sorry for bothering you.

Solomon?”

He went quiet so you couldn’t help but look up at him. It turns out your candidness was something he wasn’t expecting…or so it seemed from how taken aback he was.

“…you’re not…a bother at all. Haha!” He reassured you. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Suspicious.

You raised an eyebrow to that and retorted. “Just like that?”

His light-hearted laughter was already telling. With an impish smile, he placed your hands back to your side and said, “Please do Simeon’s favour for me. He’d understand.”

Favour?

“Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?”

His whimsy returned with gusto and now you weren’t really sure if the favour was worth it.

“I promise it isn’t anything bad,” He reassured you. “And when did I ever break my promise?”

“Since ever. We never made any promises.”

“I suppose you’re right…” He laughed once more. His expressions, however smiling and friendly were impossible to read. “Then think of it as an act of service; from one human to another human. We only have each other in this big, cruel otherrealm. It only makes sense for us to look after each other, doesn’t it?”

“If the human were anything less than Earth’s most powerful sorcerer.”

Sometimes, it felt like he was speaking in another language every time you exchange words with each other. Does he really mean it? Is there anything hidden beneath his words? Perhaps the brothers’ (except Asmo) apprehensiveness towards him was rubbing off on you. You didn’t know.

“You flatter me~”

What you did know was that Mammon’s troubles were already solved. The aforementioned second eldest was currently slack-jawed and absolutely stupefied at whatever the hell he had witnessed.

You can only offer him shrugged shoulders and an equally confused reply to his silent questions once the sorcerer left. “He says it’s an act of service from one human to another, but then gave me errands to do anyway. Weird guy.”

Needless to say, nothing could ever prepare you for the truth that will reveal itself once you went back to Lamentation.

💌 continue to next scenario

💌 tag request: @krussyfed, @lilliansstuff , @cupsof-tea

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #obey me fic #interactive fiction #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #Obey me Satan x Reader #obey me satan #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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