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chimerickat · 10 months

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Chapter 1

“What kind of girl do you think my brother likes?”

You looked up from your textbook to give Mokuba a raised eyebrow. “Girls? I was under the impression that your brother went for something with scales.”

“Ha. Ha,” Mokuba deadpanned. “But seriously! I’m trying to come up with a list of things he’d like… and it’s really hard.”

If you knew what Seto Kaiba liked in a woman… well, you’d make good use of that information. You frowned, pretending to think about it. As if you didn’t ponder on it all too often. “Blue eyes?” Mokuba started writing, and you almost felt bad about where you were going with this. “Very, very fair skin. Like white. Let’s just say white like a crayon. Wings. She’s gotta have wings.”

You grinned as Mokuba stopped writing to glare at you. He tore the page out of his notebook, balled it up, and threw it at you. You knocked the paper ball off to the side and watched it hit the ground. Then you leaned forward. “You’d better get that before someone takes a picture of you littering.”

“You’re the worst friend.” He got up to grab the paper before shoving it into his bag, presumably to throw it away later when his bag was too full of trash to function.

You didn’t want to ask why Mokuba wanted you to speculate on what his brother liked. Showing too much interest in his brother might tip Mokuba off to the very secret fact that you were way too interested in his brother. At the same time, you really wanted to know. “Why are you trying to figure out what your brother might like anyway?” You looked back down at your textbook, pretending to work, pretending that you didn’t really care about the answer.

“He needs someone.”

You were alert. “He said that?”

“No.” Mokuba shrugged. “But he’s so obsessed with work right now. And now that I’m not home as much, I don’t think he’s eating. I think having a girlfriend would be good for him.”

You looked around the library as you leaned on the table. Nobody seemed to be in earshot, but you didn’t want to be the cause of the next trashy article. You gestured for Mokuba to lean closer to you. “Do you even know if he’s into girls?” After all, his obsession with that Yugi Motou person hadn’t been too fabricated in the papers… You’d always wondered.

“Well, shit.” Mokuba threw his pen down on the table as he leaned back. “No. I mean, I assume he is… but he’s never… well, I’ve never seen him with anyone.” He looked around at the library. “I think I may need your help.”

“Help setting your brother up with someone? I don’t have a death wish.” You also really didn’t want to. Mokuba couldn’t have come up with a crueler task.

“Please?” Mokuba gave you his best puppy eyes. “I know that you don’t really care about my brother, but do it for me? I’m really worried about him.”

“No, Mokuba. No.” You stared him down, unmoved by the eyes he was making. He was wrong about why you wouldn’t help. “I don’t have time to go searching for a magic unicorn that could tempt Seto Kaiba. Take him to a bar or something.”

“You know he would never.”

You nodded. You did know that. It was why you’d suggested it. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mokuba. Buy him a puppy?” You checked the time. It wasn’t time for your next class, but you couldn’t let Mokuba convince you to help him. You needed out of this conversation. “I’ve gotta head across campus for my next class. I’ll see you later.” You piled all your stuff into your bag.

“Yeah. I’m picking you up tonight?”

You stared at him for a moment, and then you remembered that your roommates were having a party tonight. The joys of finishing midterms early. “I guess.” You weren’t in the mood for more of Mokuba trying to matchmake his brother, but you’d be able to study and sleep at his place.

He grinned, probably planning all the ways he could convince you to help him in his dumb quest. “Okay. See you at seven or do you want to have dinner together?”

“No. Seven is fine.” You shouldered your bag. “Bye.” It was hard to pretend you weren’t upset, and your goodbye came out snappier than you intended. You hurried away before Mokuba could say anything. Hopefully he would forget by tonight.

Later that night, you threw an overnight bag into Mokuba’s backseat and hoped he would move on to a new subject.

“I tried talking to Seto’s assistant today. She didn’t know anything either.”

Well that would be a no. “Mokuba, if you don’t know anything about your brother’s preferences… literally nobody else will.” Maybe if you hammered the point home enough, Mokuba would give up on this. “If he isn’t interested in dating, you won’t be able to convince him otherwise. Maybe he’s happy with the way things are.”

“He’s not happy!”

You grabbed the door as Mokuba revved the engine and cut around another driver. You knew that Mokuba worried too much about his brother. It was normal for Mokuba to get distressed anytime he really talked about him. You wanted to be a good friend and help Mokuba out.

But his plan was dumb on so many levels, and you refused to go along with it.

“Did something happen recently?” you asked, wondering if something had triggered this.

“He’s…” Mokuba sighed. “It’s a long story.”

That was code for, ‘It’s a story I won’t tell you’. You were used to Mokuba being private about his brother, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “Well, let me know if you want to talk about it.”

“I do want to talk about how we can find people for him to meet.”

“Fair.” You shifted in the seat, trying to think of ways to turn this conversation to anything else. “When did this turn into finding people for him though? I’m not sure your brother is the harem type.”

“No. But you’re right that I don’t know his type. So I was thinking maybe if I found different people that I think he’d like… I could set him up on dates and maybe one would work out?”

Multiple people… all on dates with Seto Kaiba… You felt your stomach roll at the thought. “Now you sound like some sort of matchmaker.” You tried to keep your tone light. It was a joke. You were joking about this. You weren’t feeling sick at the thought at all.

And Mokuba chuckled. “Hopefully I will be.”

You told yourself it would all be pointless in the end. Seto Kaiba didn’t like people. Mokuba couldn’t find anyone to interest his brother.

Mokuba began talking about things he thought his brother would appreciate. Intelligence was, obviously, the biggest thing he would look for, but he also thought his brother might enjoy having someone with the same interests as him. You gave him just enough of a response to keep him babbling on as you tried to turn your face into stone. You did not need to give away your pathetic feelings on the matter.

When Mokuba pulled into his driveway, you felt relief. Finally this conversation could end! “Don’t you have a midterm tomorrow, too?”

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal.”

This was one of those times where his ability to just get good grades made you jealous. “Well, help me study then. You can quiz me.”

“Wait, let me get that!” Mokuba rushed around the car to grab your things before you could get them out of the backseat.”I can’t let a lady carry this heavy bag!”

You just rolled your eyes. Protesting was pointless so you followed Mokuba into the mansion and up to the guest bedroom that had become your usual place to stay. “I still think you should move in with us,” he said as he dropped your things on the bed.

“Yeah, I can’t afford the rent on a place like this.” Also, you would be so uncomfortable living under the same roof as Seto Kaiba… if he even allowed it to happen.

“Free? You can’t afford free?”

“Nope. I’m that poor. Besides, what if you start dating the beautiful Tris? I can’t imagine she’d like you living with some other woman.” You grabbed your textbook and your laptop. “Library? You are going to help me study, right?”

“Yeah… um… speaking of Tris…” Mokuba looked off to the side and rubbed one of his shoulders. “She kind of… we have a date tonight doyoumindifIditchyouforabit?”

“Mokuba you jerk! When were you going to tell me?!” You felt the urge to throw something at him, but the objects in your hands were too heavy. His guilty expression told you he’d intended to keep it a secret. “No! Were you just going to go to the bathroom for a few hours again?”

“I mean it was an idea‒”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE SERIOUSLY SICK!”

He held out his hands. “Jeez. Calm down.”

“No!” What a jerk. You’d wandered around the mansion for a good thirty minutes concerned that he needed you to call someone for help only to find out that he’d snuck out on you. You were still mad about it. “What am I supposed to do without you?! Twiddle my thumbs?”

“Study? I thought you had a lot of work to do for your midterms?” He grinned, but you didn’t return the smile. “C’mon,” he begged, “you would have pretended to find somewhere else to stay if I’d told you, and I don’t want you falling asleep in the library.”

“Fine.” You turned around with a huff. “I’ll just be here looking for the best blackmail material to sell.” You stormed off to the library knowing he would follow.

He popped up next to you, easily keeping up with his longer legs. “I think you have plenty of sellable material at this point.”

You just glared at him. “Maybe your brother would like to know some of it.”

Mokuba just laughed, knowing full well that you knew the story of what happened to the Blue Eyes Jet. “I doubt he’ll be home anytime tonight but good luck.”

Well, that was good news at least. You could avoid making a fool of yourself if Seto Kaiba weren’t here.

Then again… it was hard to resist the impulse to raid his room for a t-shirt like the lunatic that you were... “You really shouldn’t trust me alone here,” you mused aloud.

Mokuba shrugged. “I mean we have security so it’s not like you can do too much damage.”

Right. Security. How could you ask where the cameras were located without seeming suspicious? Surely there weren’t any in the bedrooms…

“They could see if I snuck into your room and shredded all your clothes?”

He scoffed. “We both know you wouldn’t.”

Well, that didn’t answer the question at all. “If I don’t, it’s only because you can easily afford more.”

As the two of you entered the Kaiba library, you looked around and took a deep breath. This room never failed to make you feel both joy and envy at the same time. It had walls and walls of books with both couches and desks to choose from. There was even a massive window with its own bench to relax on. The only thing missing was a fireplace.

Well… and someone to snuggle up to as you read… but honestly, that was so far removed from possible reality that you weren’t sure it could even be called a fantasy.

“Ok. I guess you can leave now if you need to,” you said as you spread your stuff out across a desk.

Mokuba checked his phone. “No, it’s cool. I still have some time before our date.” He sat down in one of the chairs with a grin. “I’m taking her to that place with the rooftop bar but our reservation isn’t until a little later.”

“Oooooh fancy.” Now this was a conversation you could get behind. You slid into a chair next to Mokuba. “When did you get the guts to ask her out? And how come I didn’t get a text immediately?”

“Uh, it only just happened today actually. I ran into her when I was leaving the library, and she actually recognized me!”

You rolled your eyes. Who wouldn’t recognize Mokuba?

“No, she recognized me from our class!” he defended, apparently able to read your mind. “She asked me about the midterm, and we started talking. She said she was done with midterms so I asked her to come celebrate with me tonight.”

“Nevermind that you aren’t done,” you interrupted.

He just waved a hand at you. “She said yes! So I called that place and begged for a reservation.”

“It is a nice place for a date. What are you planning to wear?”

“Jeans and a dress shirt?” He winked.

You gave him a thumbs up. “You’ve been learning, and you’re picking her up yes?”

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “You think you have to ask.”

You lifted your hands in surrender. “Sorry. You were just such a caveman when we met.” You sighed. “I guess you probably should get ready though.” You looked at the books that you didn’t want to open and then back at Mokuba. “Can I help?”

He just shrugged. “I only need to change shirts really, but you can tell me what you think of my plans for the date.” He led you off to his room, filling you in on the rest of his plan as you used him to put off studying. It was nice to have him distracted away from the subject of his brother, and you encouraged him by letting him know his plan was a good one. After all, a romantic dinner on a rooftop terrace surrounded by twinkle lights? Tris would melt. You knew that you would.

As Mokuba got dressed in his walk-in closet, you noticed a pink thing sitting on top of his display case. Curious, you stood up and pulled it off to unfold it for a better look. It was a pink jacket that you didn’t think would fit Mokuba.

“What’s this?” you asked as he emerged from the closet.

Disgust took over his face. “Ugh, Lily left it here last time I saw her.”

“Oh.” You dropped the jacket as if it had a disease. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Both of you had blocked her number after she had repeatedly tried to convince Mokuba to date her again. But that had been months ago. “Why do you still have it?”

He shrugged. “I just haven’t tossed it out yet, I guess. I dunno. I didn’t really even realize it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can you just throw it in the trash in my bathroom?”

“Sure.” You scooped up the jacket and carried it into his massive bathroom. As you dumped it into the trash, you hoped Mokuba wasn’t still hurt from that particular breakup. It had been nasty.

On your way out, you grabbed his brush. “Tame your hair,” you ordered as you tossed the brush to Mokuba.

He scoffed but used the brush anyway. You assessed his outfit. It was basic, but he looked good in it. Other than his hair, he didn’t need anymore work to look nice. “I guess I better actually get to work then?”

Mokuba grinned and stopped brushing his hair to stride over and give you a hug. “You know you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You hugged him back and then pulled away. “Just do us both a favor and don’t bring her back here tonight.”

“I’m offended. You know I’m too classy for that.”

“HOPEFULLY you’re too wary of strangers for that, but you keep leaving me alone here so I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Please. You’re family at this point, and I’d give you a key if you would take it.”

“A symbolic key?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, well.” You gave him a once-over look again. “Have fun.”

“Thanks. You too.” He winked at you.

You retreated to the library, able to make your way around the Kaiba mansion alone with ease, and made yourself comfortable. You appreciated the fact that Mokuba was willing to just leave you alone in his home even if you protested that he shouldn’t be so trusting. You set up your books and computer on the table and played music since you were alone in the library (and other than the staff, probably the entire mansion). At some point, a maid came by and provided you with tea to keep you going, and you found yourself getting a lot of work done.

When the door opened much later in the evening, you looked up with a grin, expecting it to be Mokuba back from a victorious date. Your grin faded once you saw Seto Kaiba standing in the doorway.

He stared at you for a moment with a frown before striding into the room and looking around. The frown on his face deepened. Then he looked back at you. “Where is Mokuba?”

“Um. Uh.” You hated yourself for stumbling over nonsense words as you tried to figure out what to tell him. Should you tell him Mokuba was on a date? “I… um, he… stepped out? To get something?” The words all came out as uncertain questions, and you knew that Seto Kaiba was currently judging you as an idiot. But at least that ship had sailed a long time ago, and you didn’t think you had any chance of proving otherwise to him.

Even as Seto Kaiba pinned you with a frown, you couldn’t help but notice that he looked terrible. The bags under his eyes were so deep that he almost looked like he’d been punched. His hair looked unwashed, and his clothing was wrinkled. When was the last time he’d done anything to take care of himself?

You understood why Mokuba was worried.

Then Kaiba grunted at you and left without another word. You watched him leave, wondering if he even knew your name. If he did, he never used it.

After he left, you couldn’t focus on your work. You were too unsettled by Kaiba’s appearance. Even if he sometimes looked like he didn’t remember what sleep was, Seto Kaiba had never looked so messy. He was a man who cared about appearances and looked down on sloppy people.

You gave up trying to get anything else done tonight and checked the time. Mokuba’s date must have been going well if he was still out. Well, he would know where to find you. You left your books and notes on the table, fully intending to return back to work here in the morning, and carried your laptop back to your room.

As you walked past Kaiba’s room, you noticed that there wasn’t a light shining under the door. You hesitated, wondering if he was asleep. Then you looked both ways to see if anyone was in the hallway. Nobody was around so you pressed your ear to the door. You knew you were acting weird, but you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in that room.

You stroked the handle of the door, but you weren’t brave enough to turn it. Maybe another time.

Hopefully you never would. You didn’t think you could look Mokuba in the eyes knowing you took advantage of his friendship to creep on his brother.

In your guest room, you curled up in bed thinking about Seto Kaiba in a similar bed only a few rooms over. Mokuba knew his brother better than anyone, but surely he was wrong about his brother just needing to find someone to date.

And if Seto Kaiba needed a girlfriend, why couldn’t it be you?

Next Chapter

#The Best Intentions #The Best Intentions (Full)#Chapter 1 #dragonsilk #seto kaiba #seto kaiba x reader #reader insert #seto kaiba reader insert #kaibaxreader #second person fanfic #because A03 is down #I wish I had a real person face for Kaiba but I don't #Suggestions are welcome

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thepinacleofintelligence · 1 year

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Neptune: things I know about her

—

-Aggressive? I’m not sure, she has a temper and she’s very possessive but I don’t think she always has negative intentions. A lot of people that know of her think she’s the worst and she has fucked me over a few times but I completely understand it.

-She will kill you if you claim to be her. I have no clue If she is a fictive or not but she is Miku, apparently internally she looks just like Miku, and she gets close whenever her source is mentioned and or viewed extendedly. She is also XJ9. She very well could be a fictive of either one of these due to how we were exposed to these medias at a young age and was actually hyperfixated on both of them at two different points where we experienced trauma. She is a trauma holder and I know this impacts many of her actions so that’s why I don’t get as upset when she does something that may not seem typical to a Regular person. Her seeking the attention of older people and also projecting attraction towards those younger than her are examples of this. All she knows is pain, she’s reiterated this many times. Physical and emotional turmoil are her constant experiences, reliving things I don’t know the extent of and I don’t think I could even stomach. I know that some aspect of Jamie or the alters that merged [i can’t remember the actual term right now] to become him held traumatic memories, specially involving COCSA. Jamie struggled with this a lot and I don’t think he ever properly healed before the merge between him and the old host [forming me]. Jamie notoriously was a p#do and I theorize that the experiences he held led to him being manifested as such inside of our dumb little brain. He was also internally a demon. Tall, grotesque, yet oddly handsome. He often felt like a monster. Even knowing of these experiences now and knowing what I did as a child, I feel horribly and monster-like. I think Neptunes similar projections are just like this. She hasn’t even able to heal, constantly reliving her held trauma, and therefore pushing it onto others that were just like us when we first experienced it. It’s been over a year since Jamie and the host merged to form me. I’ve helped myself heal and recover as much as possible but I know I’m not there yet. Of course, Jamie had some healing but he mainly repressed it in order to be protective. Neptune is far from the known role of protector but she still tries her best to function within the system and as an individual, and I appreciate it more than I lead on. I wish I could tell her directly how proud I am of her for being able to resist her old habits and work on self recovery. I hope that If she’s reading this, that she knows that she is loved, appreciated, and never despised for being apart of us.

I’m gonna have to search for this gif very quick. I’m leaving it her for her because I wanna let her know that she’s very cute no matter what she looks like, or whatever form she takes on.

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

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“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.” He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

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cozy-possum · 2 years

Text

Twin AU Meeting Here by @jspills

Listen I’ve thrown myself back into monster high face first, and seeing all the amazing art is just making my fingers itch

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Summary: Monster High, based on jspill’s art of a Jackson/Holt twin au; Specifically when they come to blows about Holt playing dumb

Jackson learned earlier on in normie schools not to stare too long. Which he thinks is what’s saving his ass right now as he can hear the group of monsters mumbling about him.

“Nah, he’s probably just some weird Normie kid..” His brother’s voice forces him to look up, a reassurance that he’s safe. He searches and finds him, other male monster’s around him.

Jackson can sort of recognise the werewolf, he remembers seeing him around the vampire girl that Frankie had introduced him to, although the introductions she’d done earlier in the day are just a blurry spot because she smiled at him and then her arm ran up his shoulder to turn his head so she could point out his Home ick classroom. The fire elemental looks familiar in that vague way that Jackson thinks he’d seen him at a family function or in passing maybe a dream even. The gorgon he recognises. Deuce; he seems to be regarding Jackson with curiosity in the same way Holt had when they’d first been introduced. But then Holt flickers his gaze up and down Jackson and shrugs, repeating that he’s a normie and the rest of the monsters turn back to whatever they’re talking about.

Jackson learns by lunch that Holt’s not just giving him the silent treatment but that Holt has decided to completely ignore his existence beyond being the strange new normie that everyone is talking about. It’s too easy for Jackson to fall back on years of previous social interaction; which is him keeping his head down and trying not to draw anyone’s attention to himself.

This ignorance is bliss approach lasts until Mr. Rotter assigns some group project and Deuce

asks if they can work at one of their houses.

“Course, just don’t spill all my secrets.” Holt laughs and Jackson wonders exactly how far he expects Deuce to follow through when he nods.

Jackson almost considers going for a walk so he can pretend to show up to his own house. Holt, who’s finally acknowledging him calls him an idiot and before it can be an actual fight Deuce shows up. He doesn’t mention anything while they’re working and they actually manage to finish the project in a few hours.

Jackson knows they’ll go back to ignoring each other so when he steps back into the halls and Holt doesn’t look his way he’s not surprised. Deuce however is still surprising him when he walks over and slings his arm on his shoulder.

“Good to see you man; you eating lunch alone again?” Deuce asks and Holt’s about to answer but Jackson’s nod beats him to it. He can see the fire in Holt's eyes and just smirks a little, finally pleased he can get one up on his twin.

“Jackson, good to see you, you look like you’ve slept for once; Deuce was saying you and him stayed up all night finishing Rotter’s project, since Holt has to have his eight hours of beauty rest.”

“Oh like Jackson doesn’t whine like a little bitch when he’s sleepy.” Holt laughs and Jackson rolls his eyes.

“You’d know all about that Mr. still sleeps with a nightlight.”

“Say the one who’s still scared of everyone around here.”Holt hisses and Jackson swears he can feel the air change. Everyone shifts uncomfortably, Deuce is looking unsure, as is Clawd. Jackson catches Clawd mumbling, half asking how they know that about each other. Holt’s glaring, a barely there smirk already in place because he thinks Jackson doesn’t have anything to come back with; that he won’t admit it.

“Why would I be scared of anyone here when you’re my brother.” Jackson’s almost expecting a cliche gasp to rise up instead Holt’s hand presses firmly on his shoulder; he can feel the heat burning through his clothes, most likely going to leave a blister, or a scar if he’s unlucky; and with the tense way Holt is watching him, he knows he’s unlucky.

“Brother?” Deuce frowns and Jackson nods trying his best not to scream.

“Yeah, Jackson’s my twin; he’s normie though; as far as we can tell so no clue why he’s here. He should just got back to where he came from.”

“You really want me to go blabbing to the normies about monsters? Everyone would know you’ve driven me back.”

“When the hell did you get a spine?”

“Somewhere between you ignoring me and getting bullied for being a freak by normies.”

“They were right though, you’re a normie weirdo here and a weirdo freak to normies. Why would anyone want you here!”

“I think most of the monsters here do want me; besides you..” Jackson responds calmly, Holt finally pulling his hand back as if he was the one burned.

“You just showed up.” He growls and Jackson nods slightly, hoping that Holt will actually talk to him for once; it seems his luck will hold on this.

“They never told me about you, I was alone, you were alone.” Holt hisses, shoving Jackson away from the creepateria and into the empty hallway. Before Jackson can say anything Holt’s pulling him into a slightly stiff hug.

“I know if anyone asks ,you beat me up.” Jackson chuckles and can’t help but smile when Holt scowls.

“You’re my brother.” A tense sigh. “If anyone fucks with you they’re fucking with me.”

“And us.” Deuce and the rest of Holt’s friends are smirking as they crowd the doorway.

“Don’t worry, if anyone asks Jackson’s a sappy normie who dragged you into the hug.” Holt tries to protest before Clawd, Heath and Deuce are all pushing him back into Jackson’s arms so they’re the center of a group hug.

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#jackson jekyll #holt hyde #clawd wolf #deuce gorgon #deuce gorgon imagine #jackson jekyll imagine #holt hyde imagine #monster high #monster high fanfiction #twin au #heath burns

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milksbigbookosin · 3 years

Text

Helpless (Philza x Reader)

Oh boy here we go, exposing my dilfza side!

Once again I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to send requests in my ask box!

Word Count: 1,673

You absolutely adored spending your time in the town’s library even since you were little along with Wilbur. Ever since you were younger you tended to be far too awkward when it came to starting friendships. Wilbur would come into the lounge for the teens, sitting around the computers with the other kids yelling and joking around. He had seen you being rather sheepish, oftentimes peering over your book to see whatever they were up to only to quickly avert your gaze when he caught you. If anyone asked him, he’d say he walked over to you to say hi just for you to start following him around like a puppy. In reality, he had started to pester you when he caught you looking. He was so stubborn to talk to you and wouldn’t let you be whenever he saw you from there on.

Regardless of how he claimed the two of you met, you were grateful that you did. He was one of your first friends growing up and you wouldn’t trade the world for him. That being said, he drove you nuts along with the kids that had started to follow him around like he was some big brother. Tommy was by far the worst of the two, constantly making little jokes towards you trying to “flirt”. You know, as much as a 12 year old could flirt with a 20-something year old when he was barely over his cootie phase. Thankfully though today it was just the two of you.

A sigh from Wilbur caught your attention, peering over your book to him. He was looking around from his seat, a bored look on his face. God you already knew he was about to be overdramatic...

“Doesn’t this ever get old to you,Y/N?” he asked,eyes looking desperately for something, anything to give him some sort of excitement but he was instead met with nothing but countless shelves of books and the occasional noises from who knows where.

You hummed to yourself, seemingly thinking it over before bluntly saying “Nope! We always go to the library on Saturday Wil, this isn't new.” He turned his gaze to you and pouted, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you went back to your book. “Come oooon,” he leaned across the table, pushing down your book so you were forced to look at him “You’re telling me that you don’t want to go out and do something for once? I’m sure Techno is probably doing something cool, probably going in the Nether or something else fucking bonkers.”

Was he serious right now?

The Nether, especially with Techno, was far from a fun idea to you. Techno wasn’t as impulsive as Wil or Tommy but that didn’t exactly mean it would be a calm trip. Techno was a little strange to you, always going on and on about chaos and little philosophical rants about politics and such. He was one of Wilbur’s friends from before he met you and if you were honest, he was weird back then too.

“Yeah, just so Tech can get us lost like he did last time in the woods when you guys wanted to find a dog?”

“Hey! We got home didn’t we?”

“Wil it took us till sunset to get home and you almost broke your leg on a log-”

He once again sighed, this time louder and more dramatic than before. It was kind of cute when he went on these little tangents, now going on about you having to learn to ‘live a little’. Yeah right, because living meant taking dumb risks for literally no reason. Part of you wished you had the guts he had, making friends with so many kinds of people and going on crazy adventures but you knew better than to get wrapped up in all of that. Something suddenly caught your eye, something dark poking out from one of the aisles behind Wilbur as he went on talking. There was someone standing in the aisle, the strange object seemingly fluttering when they moved. Your mind was wandering, curious of who lingered out of sight before finally walking out from behind the shelf.

Blonde locks rested on green clothed shoulders, bright eyes glancing over the spines of books. The dark objects you had seen now were much clearer, turning out to be a rather large pair of what seemed to be raven wings. You had seen some rather interesting people around L’Manburg but, wow, they were rather gorgeous.

‘The wings.

The wings were gorgeous’ you thought to yourself.

Goodness what was wrong with you?

“-I’m just saying, I don’t want you to be so damn sheltered that you cease to function if I ever had to leave or anything you know?” He said, looking up at you expecting to see you giving your usual pained smile you gave when it came to serious talks but, strangely enough, you weren’t even paying attention to him. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion before following your gaze behind him. It was silent for a moment as Wil looked at who had your attention, feeling even more confused to see his friend Phil. Why were you looking at Phil like that? Granted, he never introduced you two but it wasn’t like you to just stare like that at people. He turned back to you, waving one of his hands over your eyes.

“You alright there, Y/N?”

You flinched, snapping out of your little trance and looking back to Wilbur. Oh goodness, how long was he done talking? You didn’t mean to space out on him so bad. “Yeah- I'm sorry about that..just got a little” you paused cheeks heating up, trying to think of how to word it without Wilbur possibly prying “spacey.”

Something seemed to click in Wil’s mind as he saw your cheeks darken, looking back to Phil then back to you as he worked it over in his head. Suddenly his lips curled into a mischievous smirk, watching you try to look back down at your book that now rested on the table. You had no idea just how guilty you looked, failing to catch that look on Wil’s face as he suddenly stood up from the table.

“Gimme a sec-”

Before you could question him he scooted his chair in, turning around and walking right up to the winged man. ‘Oh god,’ you thought as Wilbur started talking to him. You couldn’t hear anything they were saying so all you could do was watch helplessly as they chatted away. After what felt like an eternity Wil leaned in closer to him, turning to look at you while he seemed to whisper something to him ‘Oh god what is he doing?!’ You felt like your heart was going to burst when the stranger’s eyes looked right at you, shifting from Wilbur then back to you. You quickly looked down at the book again, unable to look either of them in the eye. You wanted to sink into the floor, why is it the moment you get the slightest bit of a crush you had to be with Wilbur? If only you didn’t stare, if only you just agreed to something different today..Maybe you could just leave honestly. Wilbur would probably tease you for a week over you being a chicken but at the very least you’d still have some breath left in you.

“Hey-”

Your eyes shot up at the new voice, shocked to see the blonde in front of you and even more shocking, Wilbur wasn’t behind him taunting you silently. Nope, instead it was just you and the raven winged stranger. You swallowed nervously, trying your best to give him a friendly little smile that came out making you look far too small and mousey.

“You mind if I sit with ya?” he asked, a knowing smile on his face that made you jittery. Not wanting to seem weird you simply shook your head, grateful as he didn’t pry for a verbal answer and instead took Wilbur’s seat across from you. Goodness that smile was going to be the death of you. He propped his elbow up on the table resting his chin on his palm as he watched you shift in your chair nervously. “So,” he finally said “Wil says apparently you were givin me the eyes”he teased, loving the way your cheeks darkened at that far too much.

“He’s such an ass” you muttered to yourself,nervously playing with the pages of your book as you tried to search for some sort of way to get yourself out of this “I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything.” This was so embarrassing, having to admit that you were being some weirdo and staring at him.

“Honestly I think it’s cute if it means anything” he admitted, once again catching you off guard. You haven’t felt so helpless before. You didn’t feel uncomfortable in a bad way or anything but to have a much taller and very handsome guy right across from you was really something for sure. You knew now that you’d never hear the end of this and in all honesty? Wilbur was going to probably die if she didn’t melt by the end of this. He extended his hand, giving you a patient smile “I’m Phil.”

You gave a slightly more comfortable smile to him, gently taking his hand and giving a shake “Y/N…”

“Well Y/N, I mostly came over here to introduce myself since Wil had to be a little tattletail” he joked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and standing up“Hopefully i’ll actually get to see you around when you’re not all frazzled, yeah?”

You could only manage a nod again, melting as you heard him chuckle at you being so nervous. You think you heard him say bye as he walked off but you were much too focused on how you were going to kill Wilbur later.

#mcyt x reader #philza x reader #dilfza #mcyt fanfiction #philza fanfiction #I'm weak for Phil okay im sorry #dream smp x reader

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frombeyondtheblackhole · 3 years

Text

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 9.1

[TW: Blood, violence, severe injury, bone related gore and zombie/undead related body horror. Please take care of yourself and stay safe. Warnings bracket the worst of the potentially triggering content and a summary is provided if you feel the need to skip that part. Some violence and minor injuries are outside the brackets. If there is a specific TW that you would like me to include in the future feel free to let me know and I will do my best to add it.]

Quackity, Purpled and Charlie, spent over an hour searching through the woods and the land around Las Nevadas, well mostly just Quackity and Purpled while Charlie hovered around asking annoying questions. Neither The Zombie nor Foolish were anywhere to be found.

Quackity told Purpled and Charlie to Head back to Las Nevadas and look there while he did one more check around the perimeter for any clues as to what happened. Quackity took his time. Now that he was by himself he was able to think more clearly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned.

Quackity wasn’t exactly sure what he had witnessed. He’d never seen something exactly like it, one minute Foolish was standing in front of him and the next he was gone and this zombie lady was in his place. He might argue with the other Las Navadas recruits, and they might not have the best opinion of him, but one thing was certain, if anyone messed with them, especially on Las Navadas property, They were messing with him and he wasn’t about to let anyone push him around, not anymore, never again.

Quackity looked up as he rounded a sand dune, the walls of Tubbo’s “cookie” outpost looming up on the edge of Las Nevadas land. Quackity Scowled. One problem after another. The whole conflict about the walls hadn’t really been resolved, Tubbo was being stubborn, unreasonable. But that wasn’t a priority at the moment, he would deal with that latter, right now, he had bigger problems.

Quackity followed along the wall and stopped short on the road in front of the Las Nevadas toll tunnel. Ranboo and Tubbo stood on the road coming from the other direction.

They stared at each other, neither side moving. Then Quackity broke into a smile “Hey there, Fancy running into you two here. You seem to hang around here a lot, have either of you seen Foolish or a strange looking Zombie by chance?”

Ranboo fidgeted and looked away but he was always fidgeting and he was never one for eye contact so that wasn’t exactly a tell.

Tubbo on the other hand, Quackity had been in the same cabinet with him during Schlatt’s presidency, and in the cabinet during Tubbo’s presidency, he knew what the kid looked like when he lied.

“A Zombie you say? What makes you think we would have anything to do with that?” Tubbo shrugged.

Quackity didn’t drop the smile. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I am talking about.”

“Honest big man, there are no Zombies here, that's why we built the walls.” Tubbo insisted.

Ok so the kid was getting better at lying. Quackity frowned but the smile returned a moment later. “That's all good. Just be careful, she did something to Foolish, he’s gone missing, I’m worried that if she is allowed to roam free and do whatever she wants then she might do what she did to Foolish to someone else. You understand. I would hate to hear that one of you two went missing.”

Tubbo and Ranboo looked at each other. They definitely knew something they weren’t telling him.

“Thanks for the warning big man, we’ll let you know if we see anything,” Tubbo smiled tightly before grabbing Ranboo’s arm and pulled him aside to whisper in his ear.

Called it. Quackity smiled, his sharp gold tooth glinting in the sunlight. He turned on his heel and headed back down the tunnel towards Las Nevadas.

---

Cleo looked down at the dark water lapping against the stone pier where she sat, her legs dangling over the edge. The air smelled of salt, cold stung her lungs. She wasn’t shivering despite the fact that a crop top and shorts was chronically under dressed for the weather. She didn’t really notice.

Her heel bounced against the wall of the peer as she stared out to sea. Snowchester was secluded, nice and peaceful, but it also felt vacant. There were houses but no one lived in them. Not that that was anything all too strange, Hermits built empty houses all the time, but these felt different. The empty houses the Hermits built were intended just for show, or to conceal functional builds. These houses once housed people, and now were abandoned.

Cleo looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow and the clunk of boots against the wood at the beginning of the peer. Tubbo and Ranboo stood looking back at her. Tubbo had his hands in the front pockets of his coat and Ranboo stared at her over Tubboo’s shoulder. He never seemed to blink, it was a bit unnerving.

Cleo pursed her lips “Um, thanks for letting me stay here kids, but-”

“You can’t stay here anymore,” Tubbo blurted out.

Cleo blinked.

Ranboo flinched “Sorry about all this, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry about it kid,” Cleo said, getting to her feet, “I was going to leave anyway,” She shrugged.

“Oh really,” Ranboo sighed.

Tubbo frowned “Why? What changed?”

Cleo chuckled hollowly, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Tubbo pursed his lips but didn’t push the issue.

Cleo walked past the two of them and started up the path.

“Wait,” Ranboo called

Cleo stopped.

“Where are you going to stay now?” Ranboo asked. Tubbo just glared at her.

Cleo shrugged and smiled a bit to cheerily “I’m sure I’ll find a nice cave somewhere, after all I am a Hermit,”

“Um,” Ranboo looked off to the side, tapping his fingers together. “If you need it there’s a hotel in the Greater Dream SMP. It’s big and red, hard to miss.”

Cleo chuckled, “I’ll be alright, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Tubbo was still glaring at her. She turned to leave again.

“Just know that if you try and mess with us we can and will defend ourselves,” Tubbo said.

Cleo didn’t turn around “Oh, I know,” She smirked as she walked away. This Tubbo kid had guts, she could respect that.

---

Quackity taped his fingers against his arm impatiently as he waited in the ditch on the Greater DSMP side of the speed tunnel to Snowchester. After talking to Tubbo and Ranboo he had watched from a distance and followed them here.

The splash of oars cutting through the water reached Quackity’s ears as a boat made its way towards his hiding spot. Quackity took a steadying breath, stealing himself as he listened carefully. The boat scraped against the shore and there was a crunch of sand as someone got out of the boat. Only one person.

Quackity stood up and moved into view. The Zombie jumped, summoning her sword as she spun around to face him, teeth bared.

Quackity held up his empty hands and took several steps back. “Woe, woe woe. Hold on. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You think?” She scoffed. She didn’t attack but she still had her guard up.

“Just tell me what you did to my friend and maybe we can resolve this peacefully,” He smiled tightly.

“I didn’t do anything! And even if I did, why would I tell you? You already tried to kill me once?” She said. Then her expression changed, as if just remembering something. She lowered her sword and straightened. “What do you know about perma-death?” She asked calmly.

Quackity sucked in his breath and took a step back. Was this a threat or a legitimate question? He looked at the determination in her eyes… It was both.

He fought the urge to summon his axe.

“Do you really think you can kill a Zombie? I’m already dead. The rules don’t apply to me!” She strode forward and pointed her sword at him. Quackity staggered back looking up at her standing over him on the edge of the pit framed by the crystal clear sky behind her.

Was she bluffing?

Fuck.

She spun on her heel and ran the other direction, across the field.

The trance was broken.

[TW: Blood, violence, body horror. Skip to the next bolded text to avoid the worst of it]

“Shit, Get back here!” Quackity scrambled up the bank, summoning his crossbow and letting loose the bolt. It struck her in the leg, but she didn’t even seem to slow down. Had she even felt it? An ender pearl replaced the crossbow and a moment later he felt a sudden rush as he flew through the air, switching to his axe mid-flight. He crashed into her back, embedding his axe between her shoulder blades.

Quackity pulled his axe out of her back and staggered backwards. She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t despawned yet. Maybe she had been telling the truth about being unable to die. Oh wait, she was moving.

She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coughing up dark sickened blood. She staggered to her feet and turned around to face him again, fire and determination in her eyes.

How was she still standing? That last hit had to have broken several ribs. Quackity glanced at the exposed ribs poking out from under her crop top, edged with decayed flesh. Those had been that way before. Maybe broken bones didn’t matter?

[TW End: Summery: Quackity chases after Cleo, she tanks a bunch of damage but is able to keep fighting despite severe injuries]

Why were his knees shaking? She hadn’t even scratched him this time, and she wasn’t as good at combat as Dream or Techno. Yet she refused to die?

He clenched his teeth and scowled, “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me what you did with Foolish?” He demanded. Now he was bluffing.

“I. Don’t. Know!” She yelled as she lunged at him, summoning her sword mid swing as she brought it down on him.

He didn’t have time to block. Instead he moved back and swung the axe up. The blunt side of the head struck her in the chin as he felt her sword cut into his shoulder and graze his chest.

She staggered back and switched her sword out for a gapple.

Oh no you don’t. Quackity raised his axe about to lung when he felt someone jump on him from behind. Arms wrapping around his neck in a choke hold. The axe returned to his inventory as he grabbed at the arms around his neck. They were invisible, his attacker was invisible.

“Cleo, Run!” the invisible man shouted.

She froze, the gapple halfway to her mouth “Etho?”

“I said run!”

She turned on her heel and started running, only pausing for a moment to eat the gapple and keep going.

Quackity clawed at the arm around his neck. This Etho guy was invisible. That ment he wasn’t wearing armor. Quackity summoned a sword in reverse grip and stabbed behind him. He heard Etho hiss as the sword grazed him. His grip loosened and Quackity was able to wrestle free. Summoning another pearl he threw it, getting away and landing near some trees. He staggered against one of the trees, coughing and rubbing his neck. He gritted his teeth, his face twisting into and ugly snarl. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She got away. And she had an accomplice.

They made him look like an idiot. He quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He had promised never to let himself feel helpless again. Never to let other people control him. Yet he had let himself get pushed around by some random Zombie and one guy with an invis pot. Fuck this. He needed to do something about this. He couldn’t let this stand.

#hermitcraft dsmp swap au #dsmp #dream smp #hermitcraft #dsmp au #hc x dsmp au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #quackity #tubbo #ranboo #zombie cleo #etho

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discotechque · 3 years

Text

till my hand shook with the way I fear

pairing: abed nadir/nby! reader word count: 1.6k rating: T

me and abed have neurodivergent solidarity and for that, we would be besties. also the mc in this is specifically non-binary so whatever.

There's clear haze that settles over the bar, that's the first thing Abed realizes once he settles into the space. It's dim, like most bars are and he assumes that's the charm of places like these. Jeff and Britta are adults ( he is too but he's overlooked and therefore his opinion is mute ) so he follows their guidance. Watching from afar, observing their inebriated choices while downing another shot.

He doesn’t get the point of alcohol, much less bars, and it seems the whole point is to get pleasure after an initial sting. A sharp weight that lays in the back of one's throat before elation rips through you. Bourbon burns through him with too much consequence, gin coats his mouth with a bitter tang, and wine falls flat on his tongue.

Maybe it's his upbringing, he's never witnessed his father take a sip to this day, or the pressure that rushes to his frame when he's offered a drink. Abed understands the appeal of bars, it does not mean he shares the same sentiments to them. They're noisy little backend places where melancholic characters come to waste away their sorrows, typically finding pathetic people who drool over glass rims.

However, he is not pathetic ( even if his oldest friend is rounding his seventies and community college all seemed like a folly ) and he had never been overtly dripping with melancholy. So he stood by the small arcade game in the corner, unbothered and safe, until someone offered kindness.

And he takes miles of that even if all they've given was an inch because even if he isn't pathetic or melancholic, he is greedy. He likes eyes being on him because he has so many thought he wants to share with one mouth that can only do so much. Abed is not dumb, he knows what the man wants and how his friendly touches are slowly rising above his knee.

He knows what the man wants and isn't surprise at his outburst once learning that the feelings isn't reciprocated. There's streams of Mint Julep dripping from his jaw and lashes, softly mumbling about his love for Farscape before having it degraded. Abed knows he deserves it and was warned by Annie that people are sensitive ( but he is not held by the bounds of common decency or empathy no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. )

Then, he remembers the man's proposition ( the only reason someone would be interested in him ). He isn't familiar with being viewed as a sexual object and men weren't unwelcome in his eyes. Gay? Is he gay? Maybe something that exists within the unorthodox box that is sexual realization? The questions sound so foreign even within the echo chamber of his mind.

He's in a dingy bar celebrating his best friend's birthday, this is not a time for the sexual exploration of his subconscious ( although he saves the thought because he considers if not now then when ). The drink is seeping within his clothes, it's going to stick if he doesn't move. He needs to fucking move.

And he does, swiftly pulling himself away from the chair and heading towards the bathroom. Wherever that is, Shirley said it was in the far back and Annie said fair left. Yet, she meticulous as ever so what if she always assume her left is everyone's true left and Shirley is vague with her directions but it doesn't even seem to be enjoying her time here at all.

He's not enjoying it either if he's honest. His loose shit now sticks to his chest and he knows it would make sopping sounds if the man's glass was any larger. Jeff brought them here to celebrate because they're all adults and Troy deserves to have a birthday party in style but if all Jeff and Britta do it bicker, doesn't that make them children themselves? And if he shares his companionship with them, does that make him and all the others children by association?

He's going nowhere with this train of though, this he knows but it can't ever seem to stop. His brain becomes a leaky faucet that can never be screwed back just right so it drips and drips just like the alcohol does along his jaw and lashes. Abed wants to go home but he's with his friends and it's his best friend's party and it'd be so rude of him to leave so soon. At least, that's what Annie tells him.

( Parties were far and few between when he was younger and even then, he cannot replace family functions for beings that truly care for him. )

But then he remembers you, nursing an iced tea in the corner because you are not interested in bestowing wisdom onto Troy that you do not have or participating in anybody's shenanigans. Bars are where people come to hook up or fuck up, you proclaimed on the car ride here, there's no in between.

Then he hears it, bursting against his ears as a smile splits across your face, a discotheque pop song that might be pleasant if it wasn't so overwhelming. His hand involuntarily taps against his thigh in tune with the rhythm. It helps sort out the sensations, the noise is different than the bland flavoring of water, and he knows what's what but it all feels the same in his mind.

Abed's eyelids shut, another involuntary tick he can never seem to shake, and his hand has created it's own beat. Rapid and rushed with no real rhyme or reason except for the fact that it's something that will tug his mind away from everything. ( It's the same thing he does when he's at the edge of a rollercoaster, it makes him safe. ) If everyone else can sway to a rhythm, why can't he?

"Hey," an unexpected voice softly call out to him ( tenderness within this group almost borders on unnatural ). Abed slowly opens his eyes to see you, you call out to him. He feels his hands move away from his pants, tangled within your fingers instead as you gaze at him with earnest. "five things you can see?"

Your hands feel polished, no—plush. He's afraid that if his thumbs press too hard, he'll begin to meld into your being. That's a great idea for a movie, he thinks and he knows you've been his muse from time to time. Maybe it means something, he's not willing to deep any deeper.

His eyes scan the room for a brief second before he rattles off, "The wooden floors, the bartender, the door, the chair behind you, and Annie still trying to be a Texan."

Her accent still lingers within her mind, poor acting for someone so involved a role they've assigned for themselves. The though nearly amuses him but he's getting off track, he needs to focus on you. On the way your hands gently rub over his knuckles and needs to ignore this growing pit within his stomach on whatever that insinuates.

"Four things you can feel?"

"My feet against my shoes, my jeans against my legs, how hot my ears are, your hands."

You don't let go even after he's mentioned it, instead he receives a squeeze that sounds throughout his body. A continuous cycle the runs on until you ask him for something he can taste, he doesn't know what lingers within the crevices of his mouth. ( He'd want it to be you and licks his lips without a second thought. ) Yet, settles on the answer Mint Julep.

Something about thinking this way must be wrong, he shouldn't want to keep holding your fingers or gaze into your fervent irises. He shouldn't be attracted to someone like you and shouldn't be searching for so many reason on why he has to tear himself away from your presence. Still, shouldn't doesn't stop him from doing so.

Maybe his hands have melted into yours, it'd be a good excuse on why he can't bring himself to let go. The song changes again, how long has he been in this small little world with you?

"Hey, it's Mazzy Star, this fucks so hard." he's heard of this before, maybe you've shared it with him. It's less grating on his ears, smooth melodies being shifted on strings, and he watches you sway from the corner of his eye.

( He likes to be watched but something about you commands all his attention. )

Still shifting from foot to foot, you turn to him with a far more lax expression. Both shifting into familiarity as you ask, "You wanna sit down?"

"Not really," he shoots back suddenly but you're not perturbed at his fast response reflex. However, his heart sinks as the next words tumble from his lips. "but we can stand here and sway?"

You don't pull your hand away from his, instead, pressing into his fingers as you ponder a reply. Perhaps you think this isn't real as much as he presumes you'll humiliate him for even asking. But you don't and another smile splits down your features, large than the last one he saw from across the room.

"Of course, Abed Nadir has a genius idea. Let's do it."

You don't move him from this space you've cultivated with him. Instead, wrapping arms around his neck as he places them on your waist ( he never went to prom but this is better than any teenage fantasy ). Moving side to side, never shifting around in a circle but rather awkwardly figuring out a steady pace while his stares becoming fonder while the night grows.

Abed still doesn't get the point of bars but he can figure it out the next time he's here with you.

#abed can be a little bisexual ... as a treat #anyways in this episode abed never says he straight so i am legally allowed for him to have a crisis after a drink is thrown on him #yes i picked the episode where pierce is just stuck at the door and no one gives a fuck about him #i know in 2010 nonbinary probably wasnt a popular term but im using it here bc i dont care #i don't know how much i liked this but i think it was kinda cute #julianscribbles #ch: abed nadir #abed nadir #abed nadir x reader #community x reader #abed nadir imagine #community imagine #abed nadir imagines #community imagines #nonbinary #nonbinary reader #tv: community

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queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Text

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it quickly then knotting the fabric.

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

#Ransom x black reader #Ransom x Black!reader #Ransom x reader

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backandimbamon · 3 years

Note

bamon on vacation please 🌸

okay! i love this idea and i had intentions of making it light and airy but it’s so soooo steamy instead- the story started writing itself. enjoy 🥰

Damon has never seen Bonnie high before until now- the green of the palm trees and the crystal clear of the ocean provides the perfect backdrop to truly make the clouded sage of her eyes pop and as glassy as they are, Bonnie is still very functional.

Who would’ve thunk?

He watches her, blunt perched between her fingers like a cigarette, her lids growing lower and sclera turning hazy and Damon can’t possibly look away. How dumb of me, he almost thinks to himself, to have wanted to go to Paris when Jamaica was always right there, specializing in weed strong enough to make even him see shooting stars in his best friend’s pupils.

There’s a cherry taste when his mouth is on the joint again from Bonnie’s lipgloss, as if she’s kissing him. He presses his lips together to chase that fruity flavor with his tongue dragging along the seam of his lip.

It’s been a while since he’s had a woman’s hands on him- possibly a few weeks- and he’s suffering withdrawals, so he attempts to find release in any and every inflection in Bonnie’s tone or inconsistency in her normally prudent behavior.

More often than not, he’s nudging her in certain ways to uncover that sexier side of herself that she hides so well. To his surprise it’s been on overdrive ever since they arrived in Montego Bay- but not directed at him.

The guy who plans excursions, (excursionist?) has been sending heart eyes Bonnie’s way and she’s been sending them back. He’s light brown skin with even lighter locs, modelesque height, tattoos. Damon can admit, to merely be human, he is a contender for good looks but naturally this excursionist is no match for him.

Damon Salvatore is otherworldly.

He sets his jaw.

“Why so serious?” Bonnie makes a gesture of her pointer finger encircling his face then laughs. “You look like you’re about to kill someone.” she pauses to consider what she’s just said before leaning forward, his eyes flit to the neckline of her shirt struggling to hold in ample cleavage before returning up. Voice low so that only he hears, she mumbles. “Wait, please tell me you aren’t?”

Killing excursionist guy is probably not a bad idea, but he won’t, Damon already made a promise earlier that this will be a murder-free trip. “No… that’s off limits. A promise is a promise.” He grins wide enough for her not to renew her faith in him. “You have to keep me preoccupied so I don’t get that urge.” However, he knows that deep down, the urges won’t subside, they’ll just be different.

For instance, the island heat is so intense that his skin tans a bit. Bonnie is several shades darker, a deep brown since she intentionally palm oils herself to lounge out in the sun in a bikini. Damon watches her, follows those trails of perspiration drawing curves around her neck and waist when the temperature is too warm. He observes so hard that he swears he can taste the saltiness, feel the weight of her skin on his tongue. His mind insists he throw her over his shoulder when she pulls her neck and back strap loose for an even complexion. Urges so strong, he takes a step closer to the sliding glass door.

It takes him a while to realize he’s longing for Bonnie-his best friend- in a way that he shouldn’t. But it’s hard to encourage his mind not to when she’s splayed out like a starfish.

Or times like now, when his eyes play tag between her cleavage and her face because in Jamaica, Bonnie wears tank tops with straps thinner than spaghetti. With necklines that sink lower than anvils. Cherry-flavored blunts. He promises she’d have that same look in her eye if she tried him out for one night. The same feeling too.

It’s hard for him not to have his mind all muddled when just yesterday, she was searching for something in her bag and she bent over far enough that her shorts lowered and her shirt rose and Damon saw a new set of teeny tiny tan lines from a string bikini he’d never seen her in before. After that, there was no such thing as pulling him back so those “urges” are perhaps on his to-do list. Bonnie Bennett is perhaps on his to-do list.

But imagine, all of that teasing to not so much as hint that she’s doing it for him. Actually, he knows she isn’t. The little witch is just enjoying her time on vacation, her time by herself, and her time with her best friend. Damon is keeping an eye out so she won’t decide to enjoy her time with Excursion guy. She’s too busy with her bestie and if Damon’s not getting any, neither should she, no matter how many times Goldilocks reminds her of his very available schedule after 3pm.

She declares she has the munchies with a giggle before reaching into her purse to reveal an orange, pulpy mango skinned delicately and plastic bagged.

“You have the whole world in your purse.”

Bonnie rolls her eyes before she bites into it, juices dripping down her chin, down the front of her shirt, leaving see-through streaks. His mind is in shambles just that quick.

“I wish you could taste how sweet it is,” Bonnie says, popping a thumb into her mouth.

Damon is not thinking about fruit.

When her fingers become too messy to hold the joint, he holds onto it for her and inhales until his vision is ocean waves of dark brown skin, light brown hair and peridot eyes.

“There’s something magical about this place…I can feel it- like this old wisdom that lingers and is kinda intimidating.” Bonnie gets lost in thought. “Almost reminds me of this one time I visited Haiti when I was a little girl and everyone used to talk about mermaids taking their family members away for years... If a mermaid asked you to go with her, would you?”

Damon convinces Bonnie to share a suite with him since there’s more than enough space in a California King-sized bed. She relents. They have a wonderful view of the setting sun as the room is painted in reds and pinks.

“Only if you went with me. I can’t have Mr. Excursionist attempting to take my place.” Damon admits, not intending to put his foot in his mouth but doing so anyway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He decides to run with it, “Please, Bon Bon. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at that guy. You two have some creepy eye sex thing going on as if I’m not there.”

“What difference does it make? You do the same exact thing but with every woman you come in contact with.”

“Semantics. This is supposed to be a trip for two besties and here you are adding a third to the mix, who is quite unwanted if you ask me.”

“One, I want him, and two, no one is asking you. Besides, he could never take your place-“

“Aww,”

“-because you’re my best friend. With Leo, I want fun. Young, dumb fun.”

“We have fun all the time.”

“Don’t be dense, Damon.” She says, with leaf green eyes looking at him like that type of fun between them is never going to happen.

He wants to tell her that he’s been dying to have fun with her. He wants to tell her how he’s dreamt of bending her over the modern eclectic dining table and fucking her so hard that every knickknack and napkin-wrapped silverware falls to the floor. He wants to tell her that there’s no way she hasn’t noticed the thirst in his gaze, or heard how his innuendos no longer sound like jokes.

“I never get to have fun.” She declares, with every intention of changing that.

She sneaks out at night in the black micro bikini he’s never seen her in. Every so often, she turns around probably making sure he’s not trailing her but Damon is a vampire with quick reflexes, his footsteps are soundless. He moves too fast for her to catch a glimpse.

Behind them is the resort, in front of them is bright, pearly moonlight and the beach. She walks offshore to welcome the cool waves, find peace, the sea at her thighs before she decidedly pulls away to sit on one of the unfolded resort loungers.

This time it’s water droplets curving around her waist- they crystallize like little pools of silver in the light before racing down her body, between her breast and legs. He’s never seen this much of Bonnie at once and all of his blood is rushing so far South that it makes him lightheaded. To at least breathe comfortably, he unzips his pants.

He observes Bonnie as she swivels her head around and Damon realizes that she’s looking for him. Goldilocks.

Already, he’s a tall mass of limbs and arms, walking towards her so accustomed to the sand that he moves fluently. Bonnie watches him like he isn’t real, by the sound of her heart rate, she doesn’t seem nervous which surprises him. This guy cups her face to bring her in for a kiss with enough passion and romance behind it that it makes Damon’s stomach twist but it doesn’t stop him from staring.

They do that for a while, kiss, before Bonnie tugs at his waistband with this neediness that automatically makes Damon wish that he’d snapped his neck.

Mr. Pretty laughs at her eagerness before caressing the side of her face, “There’s no need to rush.”

How silly of him to assume.

Damon knows Bonnie is rushing because she’s not sure how long she can be gone before her best friend realizes and breaks every neck that won’t tell him where she is. Instead she says she needs him, like really, really bad, right now and tears the condom with an anticipation that makes her thighs quiver.

With Bonnie’s next blink, Damon is behind her, hand over her protesting mouth, peering into her fantasy’s eyes, telling him to only remember this night in his dreams, when the witch and the vampire have boarded the plane to their next destination, far away from here. The girl on the beach does not exist, she is not real, she is a figment of his imagination when his eyes are open, and he will never remember her name. She’s just a mermaid who lured him in to sea when the waves were too high for him to swim in.

Mindlessly, tall, dark and handsome leaves, the tent in his pants a compass that points to the way back home.

Bonnie screams at Damon when he lets her go, hits him, strikes him with aneurysms strong enough to bring him to his knees and fuck, he feels that attention he so desperately needs from her. Finally he can confirm she feels something towards him even if it’s a hate strong enough to split him in two because someone like him is never meant for the friend zone. He can never feel her power surging through him like this if he’s tiptoeing on becoming a safe and reliable security blanket.

Even with blood vessels in his brain popping, he thinks to himself, yes, yes, Bonnie, give me everything you’ve got and then his vision goes black like the color of her tiny bikini.

Damon’s head is underwater before he jolts himself awake, it’s still nighttime, still very hot and humid when he stands up in the sea, shirt plastered to his torso and jeans heavy with water weight. He looks down at a frowning little witchy.

“Anything you want, you get. Anything at all.” Bonnie says, staring at him with hostility in her eyes, stronger than when they first met. “But what do you want this time, Damon? For me to be miserable? We’re on vacation for Christ’s sake and still, I’m angry at you. It’s always about you.”

“That’s the thing, Bonnie. You’re on vacation with me, so why the hell would you get lost in other people?”

“We’re not a fucking couple!”

“Yes we fucking are.” Damon pauses to evaluate his words. “We’re a couple of really close friends who protect each other.”

She laughs sardonically, “I should be protecting myself from you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but I do, you’re a walking nightmare. You’re the best friend from hell.”

“Bonnie-“

“Don’t touch me.”

He drops his arm. “I just think you’re overreacting.”

“And i just think you’re a narcissist.”

“Penny for every time I’ve heard that one.”

“You’re singlehandedly ruining my life and joking about it…Just leave me alone.”

“You and I both know that I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

The waves roar as they stare each other down.

“You know, I used to think you protected me for Elena. Kept me safe when I became your best friend, but slowly you’ve just started mixing up my role with hers. I am your friend, nothing more or less, so you have to stop treating me like my world is supposed to revolve around you. Newsflash, Damon, it’s not.” She bumps him when she walks off and he turns around to see the moon looking closer than it was before.

It’s not too late, he notices when he glances at his phone and sees it’s a little passed midnight. But he’s deeply tired, so much so that he’s considering getting sleep tonight. Bonnie is in the bathroom brushing her teeth though it doesn’t stop him from stripping and closing the glass shower door behind him.

She mumbles something he can barely hear over the sound of the faucet and the shower head.

“What?”

Bonnie tugs at the handle and opens the door to his shower, steam rushing out, “I said you wish it were you, don’t you?”

Her eyes don’t stray just hold his with a fierceness that lets him know she’s still very pissed at him. And he’s just stunned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you’re coming in, close the door so I can stay nice and warm, please?”

She does, to his disbelief. She closes the door behind him, and there’s enough room in this fancy shower that she can stand up in it with only her feet getting wet. Damon lathers his body up, determined to not get too excited about having company in here with him, and Bonnie of all people. She’s still mad enough to set him on fire.

“You were jealous. All that time, I couldn’t pinpoint why you’d do something like that and then-bingo- you wish I were sneaking out to have sex with you.”

There’s no accusation in her tone, she presents her idea confidently as if it’s not up for debate.

“Uh-uh,” he lies, “I was only trying to protect you from a situation you didn’t know how to handle.”

“I decide what I can and cannot handle.”

“Tell that to your bleeding nose.”

She taps at her nose to see red on her two fingers before washing them away. “This is all your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah. Blame the big, bad, vampire. You’re still wrong.”

Bonnie folds her arms together and looks at him sideways.

“I’m wrong.” She steps forward with this judgey look on her face and something else; he hasn’t really considered Bonnie to be dangerous but he’s uneasy when she steps close enough that her hair is soaked and her oversized sleep shirt sticks to her bare skin. “You don’t want me…Right?”

This is a fever dream, witchy in a wet t-shirt and nothing else, tempting him while he’s in the shower is hard to accept as reality.

“Exactly.” He confirms, but his lashes drop when he drinks her body in, the press of her curves against fabric that might as well not even be there. “You’re so wrong.” His voice is hoarse with how badly his loins ache.

“I can’t tell.”

He thinks she’s about to embrace him but the dig of her nails down his back is better, renders him weak with an all-encompassing arousal that almost makes him double over. It’s impossible to speak.

“I needed Leo tonight, but you compelled him to forget about me, Damon. You should pay for that.”

“I am paying, my balls are fucking blue.”

“Well, I want them to turn into Christmas ornaments.” She brushes her body up against his as close as she can get before leaving him alone.

She mumbles something else under her breath and when he goes to release the tension in his damn near purple erection, his arms won’t allow him to.

“Fuck,” he groans.

#bamon #bamon fanfic #bamon fic #bamon fanfiction #my writing #my fic #bamon prompt #prompt #bonnie bennett #damon salvatore #damon x bonnie #bonnie x damon

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon.

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet.

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

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agusvedder · 3 years

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How season 11 outlined the romantic endgames.

I understand fear of disappointment, I understand, believe me. But this season (along with all the Dabb and Carver era) pointed out perfectly and outlined the romantic endgames for our boys, and the obstacles.

Endgames? Found family, Sam with Eileen, Dean with Cas. Freedom. Peace.

Obstacles? Their own inhability of moving on, of changing, of acknowledging traumas and pain, and healing. Chuck.

As I pointed out on a different post about Season’s 13 THE ROAD SO FAR, they decided to use “Nothing else matters” to start the whole season. In the moment Hetfield sings “Forever trust in who we are” we see Sam hugging Eileen and Dean hugging Cas.

Ring any bells?

I think that speaks for itself. At that specific moment of the show Eileen was dead, and Cas too.

Why would they ‘show us Eileen in season 13′s opening if they didn’t plan on bringing her back later? Same with Cas?

(Eileen was gone until the last minute of episode 19, that Jack bring her, and everybody, back...)

FOREVER TRUST IN WHO WE ARE.

Forever is just the future word for ALWAYS.

They were ALWAYS real. Always.

(btw, I will NEVER stop talking about that road so far cause I love Metallica and ir brings me to tears)

On a season where the most important thing is what’s real and what’s not they decided to canonize both couples. Bring Eileen back from the dead, finally use Cas’s empty plot to show us that his happiness is loving Dean inconditionally.

An amazing example of how Season 11 outlined the endgames is one of my favorites: “Into The Mystic”. They introduced Eileen on an episode where Castiel was possessed by Lucifer, pretending to be Cas to talk to Dean.

Too many bells, halp.-

(HEHEHE! pain is my middle name)

In that episode we meet Sam Winchester’s perfect woman, badass, smart, planning to go to law school, lost her parents when she was a baby too, and she’s a MOL legacy.

(Dude, first episode with her! THOSE HEART EYES!)

But this . . . this.

Ring another bell?

“What the hell are you talking about, man?”

(That’s what I thought you’d say, you dumb fucking Dean)

At the end of the episode, Dean was left with a burning desire of following his heart and the pressing matter that he’s pining for someone (who’s not Amara, like he said in that same episode, he’s not in love with her), and we see Sam saving a pamphlet of the retirement home, showing us he still sees that light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s made clear Dean was frustrated by the whole Amara situation but also seeing Cas not giving a fuck about it, not feeling the slight sign of jealousy, saying his bond with Amara is a good thing that can help them draw her out aka using him as bait.

In the end of this very same episode Sam apologizes to Dean for not searching for him when he was in purgatory (4 years later!!) and Dean shrugs him off cause that’s not really important for him anymore. What’s important for both of them is what happened during purgatory. Dean searched for Cas inceasently, praying to him every night, refusing to leave without him, and willing to die to get him out of there. In that very same moment, Sam gave up hunting to stay with the woman he loved (and a dog!!). He literally gave up, he wanted retirement. The same thing Mildred talked about with Dean in Into The Mystic. Just like Dean wanted it on season 13′s finale.

To be honest, we can clearly see how Sam was certain of what he wanted for his future way before Dean did. That’s why he stayed with Amelia in season 8, that’s why he asked his brother 7 episodes before meeting Eileen if he ever thought about settling down with “someone who gets the life”. why he tried to give his number to “Piper” on that same episode. He’s been ready for settling down with someone for years now. And now he has his finally ever after with Eileen cause Chuck’s finally out the board.

Dean on the other side is so repressed with his feelings and wants that well, he cannot allow himself to let the sun shine on his face, and finally “Being”... finally “Say It”.

What convinces me that Cas is coming back for a last episode, is that he’s the first step for Dean to accept what he wants for his future, he’s the only one who’s left for Dean to take the decision of being finally happy. He’s a constant in Dean’s life, and Dean loves Cas just as much as Cas loves Dean. He cannot function without Cas. He’s been forever saved and changed thanks to him.

Also because he fucking deserve to end up with the man he loves so fully.

Dean’s arc is still open, Cas’s too. Sam’s not. He already have what he wanted, he can finally retire and be with the woman he love.

---

The whole plot of season 11 is connected directly to season 15. Amara, Cas’s depression and the look for his own faith/sense of purpose, Dean’s romantic conflict with Cas (He literally’s been screaming “Cas” the whole fucking season), Sam in look for what’s real and not, thinking he was talking to God when he was being manipulated by Lucifer (The gun wound that connected him to God, the visions, The Devil In The Details, a very very important episode for Sammy’s overall story), Rowena’s redeption arc, Chuck revealing he’s God. Don’t Call Me Shurley. Billie and the Empty being introduced into the storyline!

I invite you guys to watch Dabb’s era again, it’s a plethora of unanswered questions (who finally found it’s answers this season), search for the sense of self, purpose, beating depression, redemption arcs for the villains, forgiveness. Family. Family. FAMILY. FA M I L Y .

#Supernatural s15 #Supernatural s11 #Into the mystic #spn 11x11 #spn 15x18 #despair #spn 15x19 #inherit the earth #destiel #saileen #Castiel #cas winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #Eileen leahy #endgames #destiel meta #saileen meta

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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Title: blood son [oneshot; filthy rich sequel] Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au ft. kageyama tobio as your son] Genre: major angst ahead, thriller, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: A full circle of madness finally comes to an end.

Warnings: sexual themes, rape, yandere behaviorisms (just some obsessive and disturbing stuff), very dark themes, anxiety, trauma, depression, eating disorder, unwanted pregnancy/children (y/n hates her kid here), suicide, gaslighting, and Y/N’s decent to madness

Notes: happy 800 due to a lot of uh people asking for a short sequel, here it is...for better understanding, please read filthy rich skskksks anyways onto the story…i cant write smut for shit sIKE also fuck men and women like this, if you see them chok’em and chunk’em in the basin. yes tobio is ur bby boy here idk kageyama and sakusa have the same energy i just couldnt resist i swear sksks

Filthy rich // series masterlist

A moan escapes your lips when you feel the hot liquid fill your hole, your expression is tantalizing and completely erotic. Something that he can’t seem to stop looking at, your body that was now a canvas of his marks, was a reminder that no one could have you.

You're oblivious to it all, the things he did. The things he wanted to do to you, the dark thoughts, you were like a small rabbit in the den of a large wolf. Completely trusting, completely dumb and he’s taking advantage of it.

He stuffs and fills you up with his seed so that you’ll never leave him.

He wants to breed you.

Your belly swelling with his children.

It was definitely a dream come true.

Your eyes snap back to reality as the bus stops in front of the new town, you had moved towns earlier since the town started to become a tourist destination. The idea of staying there would be too risky despite having the alias of Kageyama Miwa. You were still in hiding and you feared to even open the news despite it being eight years since you ran away.

“Okaasan, are we going to go down now?” a small voice asks.

You turn to find his son staring right at you, it had been a cruel reminder for him to look a lot like his father. You knew that he didn’t have any part in this, he was a victim just like you but you couldn’t help but be distant and not-so affectionate.

This was his kid.

His blood.

You couldn’t help but shrivel away.

“...Okaasan will just take her duffel bag on the overhead, just wait right behind me.” You say quietly. Tobio was a good boy, he was quiet and obedient. If the circumstances had been different, you’d adore him but every time you looked at him, all you saw was his wretched father and the unnamed things he did in the name of ‘love’.

To be honest, you didn’t know what else Sakusa did aside from trying to get you pregnant and holding you back from leaving.

You didn’t even want to try to find out. If he was willing to go through such lengths to have you stay, it was more than enough reason to run away. You held onto your child’s hands as you made your way to your new home, it was smaller than the last one but this was alright.

It was clean and livable.

Tobio stays at the side, out of your way as you begin to fix up the house. The young boy isn’t social for his age towards his peers and you should be worried yet you can’t bring yourself to be, “Okaasan’s going to go to the grocery store, would you like anything?” you ask.

“Milk.”

“Alright, just stay here okay?”

He meekly nods as you awkwardly pat his head and tie your roughly chopped hair in a tight ponytail, over the course of eight years, time has not been kind to you. You had grown unhealthily thin, probably lost some hair due to stress, and the bags underneath your eyes due to the lack of good sleep was evident.

You tell yourself that he isn’t looking for you now.

That he probably found a new plaything but you couldn’t help but look behind your shoulder every time. You didn’t even expect to get this far away, last you heard whilst you were at the station towards the last town eight years ago, you were being searched up and down by the police all over Tokyo.

You really thought you’d be found out and you feared for the worse but the farther you went, the less news reports you saw.

They probably thought you had died.

Which was good on your part that time because you’d rather be dead in a ditch than be caught up with a man like him again.

“...-Kusa Kiyoomi is expected to marry the daughter of Akiko Corp soon…”

You tense up at the mention of the very familiar name as you pass by the appliance store, shakily you turn to the tv screen to find a video of Sakusa Kiyoomi with a woman who had the same hair color as yours. Everything around you is muted now as his cold gaze fills the tv screen, your heart is thumping quick.

He isn’t here.

“...It’s quite the love story of the century, don’t you think? After the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s beloved eight years ago, he met her a few years back and he seems to be doing well.” The tv anchor smiles on the screen as she talks to her co-host but inside you were shaking, what did happen to your missing person report? Curiosity starts to gnaw your insides as you head to the internet café before going to the grocery store.

You didn’t have the guts to look then but after seeing that report, you pull up on the secluded part of the internet café and search up your case. Your mouth dries up, the search was still on-going much to your surprise. There was even a website dedicated to it, “...Y/N L/N might be suffering from hysteria and psychological problems, please contact us immediately when you see her.”

Your eyes narrowed at the report as you shakily cup your mouth and choke back a laugh, that bastard really had the audacity to diagnose you with that when he was the one sick to the head.

Once again, the bile on your throat starts to pile up.

It still wasn’t safe.

You’d probably live your whole life on the run.

On the run with his son that scarily resembled him, how fucking cruel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes glaze over the small town in discontent, apparently his bride-to-be wanted to get married here and who was he to refuse? All he wanted to do was get this over with so her father can shut up.

“Kiyoomi-san.” a small dainty voice calls out, he turns to his side to find (h/c) staring right at him. Akiko Hideyo is the daughter of one of the most powerful businessmen in Tokyo, he met her at a function a few years ago.

The very first time he saw her was from behind, it was a rather scary resemblance that he had to stop himself from approaching her by calling your name yet when he started to talk to her and hear her dainty voice, he realizes that she’s not even like you at all.

She was gentle and dainty like a deer.

Albeit his little bunny was gentle when they got together sometimes, he always recalled how you were filled with spunk. How you weren’t even afraid to put him in his place and how you were all over the place but seem to look beautiful whilst doing so.

He always recalled wanting to control you yet you never seem to succumb to it.

It had been eleven years since you first met, eight years since you had disappeared without a single trace and Sakusa is stuck with some third-rate look alike for relief. Every time they fucked, it was always from behind. Hideyo thinks it’s just his preference but in reality, it was because her back had such strong resemblance to you and he’d imagine every time that it was you.

He misses the roughness, the high, the erotica.

The only things you could provide.

It was never enough, it was only you, you, and you.

“...Have you decided what flavor you wanted? Komori-san mentioned that you liked vanilla.” his fiancé meekly says.

Hideyo was boring.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s just doing this because he has never seen someone closely resembling you, “Anything would be fine.” He replied in a clipped tone. As the car comes to a halt for a moment because of a large truck backing from a driveway, his attention shifted towards a young boy bouncing a volleyball against the pavement outside his window. There are scratches on his knee cap yet the boy had a blank look on his face, he was sort of reminded of himself when he was younger.

As he was about to look away, he sees a woman approach the young boy and bends down to his level to check the scratches.

The woman’s small figure isn’t even the least bit familiar yet his attention can’t seem to go away. He watches her tuck the strand of stray hair and he finally gets a good look and it feels like the world stops turning at how the woman scarily resembles you. Albeit the figure was smaller and the hair was another color and unevenly chopped short.

It was no mistake.

“Y/N.” He mumbles yet as he’s about to open the door, the car starts to move. Kiyoomi’s fist tightens as he uncharacteristically yells at the driver to stop the car, Hideyo jumps on the seat and before she could say anything else, the business mongrel is out of the car, running to where you stood.

Yet just like a ghost, you were gone and so was the little boy who had oddly resembled him.

These days you had even a harder time sleeping. Maybe it was because there was a little leak on the ceiling, or better yet, maybe it was because the heater wasn’t working, or maybe it was because you were at a new place which made it harder to adjust.

You sat at the side with your expense book on hand, your gaze on his son who was peacefully asleep. Tobio was growing older soon and he needed to settle down at one place for high school and college. A part of yourself ventured deep and dark in your mind, the thought of leaving him at an orphanage seemed better now.

He had a fake last name anyways, the bastard wouldn’t be able to find him.

You’d be doing this boy a favor since you never saw him as your kid and he’d be away from his very messy world.

Your thoughts are immediately disrupted when you hear a brief knock on the door. This made you tense up, it was late, Why would there be a need for visitors? Your son is quick to be awoken by the second knock and you immediately press your hand on his mouth and while your other finger is on your lips to signal him to keep quiet.

Another knock.

Tobio looks worried, it wasn’t his first time to see an episode from you but this time, something feels different. You're shaking more and you look like you’re about to pass out any moment. “Stay quiet.” you mouth as you crawl towards the door and press your ear on it to confirm who was on the other side, too afraid to even take a peak on the window.

Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was your thumping heart, Tobio had voluntarily placed a hand on his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Another knock.

You shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god out there for this person to leave.

“...I don’t think anyone lives here.” You hear someone say on the other side, the voice sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint who it was, this wasn’t Sakusa for sure, “Are you sure that the information was right?”

Silence again.

“Hm.” The person hummed, knocking again, “Well, this place seems like a dead end. The landlady said that she’s not familiar with the tenants here so we could be wrong…”

The voice started to decrease and you feel yourself slowly starting to breathe easier. Tobio slowly put down his hand and there you saw it, the fear on his eyes. You breathe in and out, calming yourself, this place isn't safe anymore, “Tobio, take your bags. We’re leaving.” you only say.

You don’t even hesitate to leave despite it being the middle of the night.

Tobio is right in front of you as you go down your small apartment and you think everything is well, you really do yet luck didn’t seem to be on your side that night.

“...Y/N?”

A dreadfully familiar voice calls out, didn’t they leave? Why? why was he here?

“O-Okaasan.” Tobio mumbles, grabbing your hand and hiding behind you.

Your head hurts, you wanted to just be selfish and leave Tobio here with this man, his father, the wretched, vile creature who had betrayed you. You wanted to run.

You didn’t feel safe.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t make you feel safe.

“Y/N…” He repeats, slowly approaching you, “It’s me, bunny.”

Oh, how you hated that pet name. It sounded like you were his plaything, like you could never escape from his set-up. Before you could say anything else, he invades your personal space once again and envelopes you in a very,very tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” He whispers on your ear and your shivering, not from pleasure but from fear, “Shh, it’s alright. I found you. It must’ve been hard to be alone out here.”

Get away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You yell, pushing him off of you as you stagger away from him. Tobio remains behind you, completely shaking.

“Now, Y/N-” he tries to shush you, “We should go home now, you’ve spent so much time away from me but I understand, you were probably just scared to tell me you were pregnant, right?”

He cups the right side of your face and places a chaste kiss on your temple, tears are threatening to spill as you realize that this was all over. You couldn’t escape now, this lunatic wouldn’t let you have at it.

The soft and plush bed is completely foreign to your back, Kiyoomi had you separated from Tobio because apparently you were still too ‘unstable’. It made you mentally scoff, between the both of you, he was the unstable one.

You wondered if they started to feed the small boy lies about you, Kiyoomi definitely milked it out to the press for sure. When he had found you, not only were your friends and family in a frenzy, the media was having a field day too. He had broken off the engagement and he used your ‘mental illness’ card on them and it worked.

Another story was weaved on papers, a love that transcended through time.

You let out a low sardonic laugh.

Mental Illness, you wondered if this could be a ploy for a suicide. After all, you’d rather be face first on the pavement than stay here with a son about to be fed on lies and a crazy bastard who sleeps next to you at night.

You stare out your window, the curtains were drawn as you looked at the free birds.

How envious.

“Y/N?” Kiyoomi comes in, a food tray in hand, “It’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N it’s been two days, all you ate was an apple-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N, our son-”

“He was never my son.” You harshly snapback, your voice sharp, “He’s yours through and through, a fucking incarnate of you and a curse. He’s not mine. He never will be.”

You suddenly feel the presence of the small boy behind the door and there stands his boy, staring right at your eyes yet you feel nothing for him. You never felt anything for him. The moment they placed him on your arms to nurse, there was no joy nor light.

All he brought was a painful reminder.

Kiyoomi places the tray to the side and closes the door behind him, Tobio’s blank gaze still on you, “...Those aren’t words a child is supposed to hear, Y/N. Especially ours…” he inches closer and you clench your fist tightly and he places his hand on your neck and lightly holds it.

You aren’t scared of him anymore, the nicest thing this guy could do was kill you, really.

“Maybe we should have a girl this time, hm?” his hand trails upwards to softly caress the side of your face.

You’re immediately frozen by his sudden choice of words, no, no-

“Maybe you’ll learn to love Tobio even more when you’re pregnant with another of mine-” before he could finish what he was about to say, you raise a hand and slap him right at his face, it must’ve been hard since it left a mark, “Ah, Y/N. I didn’t know you still liked it rough-”

“D-Don’t, I-I can’t get pregnant.” You're shaking this time as you try to come up with a lie, “I-I can’t…”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, “Why not?”

“I’ll die.” You lied, “When I had Tobio I almost died, my body couldn’t handle it. T-The doctor had said that if I were to have another, I’d die…”

The lie didn’t save you that moment, really. He has become an expert at detecting your lies so instead of a reply, he harshly places his lips on yours and despite protests, he just pins you down.

He’s harsh on you that night, spilling and stuffing you with his cum, whispering that you’ll have it all and that you’d be his everything but all you could do was let a small hiccup escape your lips as you tried to hold back your cries.

‘Someone, anyone, please.’ you pleaded internally.

You don’t see Tobio until a week later, the boy has grown a tad bit chubbier and is adorned with expensive clothes. Sakusa, on the other hand, has been force-feeding you to the point where you threw up right after meals (secretly, of course)

You sit down at the couch as your son blinks at you, “...I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence and you shut your eyes tight as you recalled the harsh words he heard last week.

“I’m sorry too, Tobio.” you could only reply because genuinely, you did feel like you went too far this time. He didn’t choose to be born, a part of you should’ve saved him the misery and left him at the orphanage that time, “Do you hate me?” you ask.

“No.”

“You should.” You say quietly, “You should hate your otosan too.”

Tobio remains quiet at your words.

“When you grow older, don’t end up like him. don’t end up like us. forget us when you have the chance.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good and If you ever get the chance to leave, promise me that you get out and don’t look back.”

Tobio may have been eight years old that time but he knows fear when he sees it and he knows promises aren’t meant to be broken. He remembers those words well because it was the last long conversation he has with you.

The month of December rolls by and it’s cold, you’ve given up fighting back at this point. Your glassy eyes are directed to the window, not even wanting to look down at your bulging stomach. Kiyoomi doesn’t even need to tell you twice to not leave the house, you decide upon yourself to just stay at your room on bed the whole time.

You wonder, just how high is it from up here? Would it hurt?

“Y/N?” a dreadful voice calls out.

“Hm.”

“You haven’t gone out of our room in two months. You haven’t even seen Tobio.” Sakusa points out, you were like a obedient doll now. So lifeless, so still, you wished he’d discard you already.

“I might say something again, I don’t want to bother.” You replied truthfully, gaze still avoiding his.

The raven-haired man starts to caress your plump face, you had grown chubbier since the beginning of your pregnancy, he couldn’t be anymore happier to finally be there for you.

This was perfect.

You were finally his.

You weren’t letting go.

“...Don’t you ever regret it?” You finally ask, turning to him, your blank eyes staring at his rather deranged ones, the eyes that you once loved was now just a reminder of your resentful life.

“Which one?” He asks, inching in closer to kiss your neck, your collarbone. You let out a meek sigh as you shut your eyes and internally prayed for this to be over quickly as he removes your ribbon that held your flimsy nightgown together.

“You killed people.” You uttered, “Took my life away, don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Right, how could a monster like him have such empathy? You feel his cold fingers brush against your folds, trying to stimulate it.

Everything except your body screamed no but you were just too powerless now. You wondered, how could you even end this all? Was jumping out the window the only solution now?

“...Right...” You let out a soft painful moan as he dips his finger inside. You’re under the idea that despite this happening countless of times, you’re body would be numb to it all yet each time it happens, it pains you even more, “You even had to kill your ex-fiancé’s father for us to get married.”

You had come to realize just how deep his obsession was, the man was willing to kill to anyone who got in the way of your ‘love’. You remembered finding out about your ex-chief one night, about how he had chopped off his fingers and left him to bleed dry in the alleyway for the rats to feast on.

You remembered when a news came up that his supposedly future-father-in-law had died in a violent explosion during breakfast time and how he was nonchalant about it.

“...It’s all for you, Y/N.” He implores as he kissed your thighs and continue to stimulate your now wet folds, “All for you, Tobio, and my new little girl.”

“You’re sick.”

“Mhm. You smell good, I should continue using the soap from awhile ago when I clean you, right?” he hummed, ignoring what you had just said as he dipped his head in and take a kitten lick on your sex. You let out a small cry as your body betrayed you.

Your prayers for today are unheard yet again.

“...Y/N, you barely come out of your room these days.” Komori exclaimed, it turns out the visitor from last time who knocked on your door was him and as much as you wanted to knock his teeth out, you decide not to because you don’t see the point in doing violence these days.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, pregnancy does take a toll on your body.” He nods in agreement, it seemed like this was a casual thing for him, like you just weren’t repeatedly rape or mentally abused by his cousin, “Tobio certainly takes after his father, don’t you think?”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of the little boy, you had small hope for him either ways so you didn’t exactly cared for him anymore.

“I suppose so.”

“You’ve gotten boring these days, Y/N.” Komori plainly pointed out, “It’s a wonder how my cousin gets to stick around ya. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Komori’s eyes narrowed at your hollowed response, you were so ungrateful. Here his cousin was, treating you with such delicateness and with all the attention that the other women wanted but you looked anything but happy about it.

If this was Hideko, she’d be elated.

But no, he had to be stuck with an ungrateful pompous bitch like you.

“How high up are we, Komori-san?” you suddenly ask.

He blinks at the rather weird question, “Fifty floors.”

“Hm.” You hummed, “That certainly is high.”

Komori would regret answering that question very soon though.

When the winter dawned upon a new year and you finally snap, you decide to answer your own prayers and opt to salvage yourself from this madness and cruelty once and for all.

Sakusa Tobio is nine years old when you, his mother, six months pregnant, jumped out the bedroom window from a fifty-foot story building two months into the new year. Your face is flat on the pavement and completely unrecognizable, the last conversation you both had replays on his head like a broken record through the years and only when he’s old enough that he realizes that he was no one’s son.

His okaasan didn’t loved him nor did he want to be associated with his father for all he did was bring pain and disgust.

The boy is eighteen, fresh out of the academy, right in front of his baby sister’s and your mausoleum. He makes it a habit to visit you both a day before your death anniversary, not wanting to be in the same room as his father yet this year he makes an exception.

Recently, he had turned over some evidence and his own testimony about what his father had been doing. Everything, from illegal works to the people he killed to your tragic end. It’s enough to file a case and have him set to jail for life, even his fancy lawyers couldn’t defend him.

His lips sting because his Uncle Komori had punched him in the face and called him an ungrateful bastard like you but it was alright.

It was all over.

He plans to change his name back to Kageyama Tobio (the haux name you had given him when you were on the run) right after all the fiasco, it’s a kind name and the first name you had given him, he likes to think that this was also a gift from you that time, a new beginning straying away from you and his father's cruel ties. He had also felt that it was too unkind for him to use your last name despite his grandparents' persistence (he was after all, conceived through forceful means).

And although he wanted to hate you for those words you said that time when he was eight. He couldn’t really bring himself to after hearing what you had to go through, you were a victim. He couldn’t dare imagine what his father did to you during the last few months leading to your death.

Yet, right now. It was finished.

You could rest now.

“I did it, Y/N-san.” He mumbles as he bows down. As he got older, he has also foregone the idea of calling you by the name you loathed and shriveled away from, “I got out and I didn’t look back. Thank you for everything.”

Kageyama Tobio never visits you right after again, as promised.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu yandere #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu x you #sakusa headcanons #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #yandere!sakusa #yandere warning!!!#oh right tobio is ur son here #filthy rich #📝📝.filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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canonicallyanxious · 3 years

Text

what’s on your mind?

Druck | Fatou/Kieu My | 1.3k words

Inspired by the following prompts:

“Kieu My finds out that Fatou is not as "chill" or "laid back" as she thought. Fatou opens up and it takes her by surprise.” from Anonymous

“Fatou being kissed on the forehead “ and “zombie girl by adrianne lanker” from @dwarnian

Thanks for prompting me, guys! idk why but listening to this song made me think about being on the metro late at night when no one else is around so that’s what i rolled with. Honestly i’m not 100% sure when this takes place so you know what y’all can decide for yourselves lol. Please enjoy!

She’s sitting across from Fatou on the train, legs stretched carelessly out into the aisle and face turned toward the window. Her chin is propped up on her elbow, hand covering her mouth, but Fatou can still see the way her tired smile touches her eyes. It’s the kind of smile she puts on whenever she thinks no one is looking. A private sort of smile.

More private now than at other times; it’s nearly midnight and there’s no one else in the car with them, nothing but the flickering of the fluorescent lights above their heads and the constant rumbling of the tracks below their feet to keep them company. Fatou leans her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. She’s tired too, as it turns out. God, she’s so tired.

“Hey.” Kieu My’s voice floats over to her from somewhere far away. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

Fatou cracks her eyes open and answers her with a lazy grin. “Come keep me awake, then.”

She’s mostly joking so she’s a bit startled when Kieu My actually stands up and makes her way across the aisle. It’s impressive how she doesn’t lose her balance in her big platform boots. Fatou doesn’t know if she can trust her legs right now or even at the best of times. She watches as Kieu My sits down heavily next to her, their sides pressing warmly against each other, and wraps her arms around Fatou’s waist with her head coming to rest on her shoulder. It’s a comforting embrace, as Kieu My’s always are. She likes the way their bodies fit together, Kieu My’s weight solid and real against her. Makes her feel grounded when she needs it the most, rooted to the earth. Being held by someone is as good a reminder as any that she belongs to this world - to right here.

And if it’s someone like Kieu My - all the better.

“Is this helping?” Kieu My says, words vibrating pleasantly against Fatou’s arm.

Fatou leans her cheek against the top of Kieu My’s head. “Cuddling makes me sleepier, actually,” she murmurs.

“Oh no.” Kieu My’s arms tighten around her. “That’s terrible news.”

Fatou laughs as she rests her arm lightly around Kieu My’s shoulder. “Uh huh.”

Kieu My sighs, the feeling of her breath delicate against Fatou’s neck. “Can’t imagine falling asleep on the train, anyway,” she says. “You’d have to be so chill to do something like that.”

Something tightens in the pit of Fatou’s stomach at that, inexplicably. It does feel cold in a way.

“I’m chill, huh,” she says.

She can feel Kieu My shrugging, her arm bumping up against hers a bit. “Aren’t you?”

Her voice is light and teasing so Fatou can tell she means it as a joke or maybe even a compliment. The way it sits in her chest doesn’t feel like it, though. It feels like a heavy stone. Like someone stuck a label on her heart that she didn’t ask for.

“Can I tell you something?” she makes herself say before she can talk herself out of it.

Kieu My hums tunelessly. “What is it?”

Fatou swallows.

“I pretty much never feel that way,” she says quietly.

There’s silence, for a long moment. Fatou worries briefly that she’s offended Kieu My somehow. Then she feels a hand brush against her elbow, and she recognizes it as reassurance. It occurs to her, a little belatedly, that Kieu My is waiting for her to keep going.

“I don’t know.” Fatou taps her fingers lightly against Kieu My’s arm. “People tell me that all the time. Oh, Fatou, you’re so laidback, I wish I could be like you, nothing ever seems to bother you. But it doesn’t feel true. Lots of things bother me.”

“What bothers you?”

It takes Fatou a little while to answer.

Honestly she can’t remember the last time someone asked her something like that.

“Like…” She purses her lips, searching for the words. “Like how I can’t keep things straight in my head. It’s like my brain is a kind of cheese that’s full of holes or something. Forgetting stuff is supposed to be an old person thing so I wonder sometimes if my brain is breaking down before it’s supposed to. If I’m an old person stuck in a young person’s body in the worst way.”

It sounded stupid in her head and it sounds stupider out loud. It doesn’t even make any sense. She wants to smack her head a bit, dislodge the right words - the correct words - from wherever they’re hiding in the back of her mind. But now that she’s started talking, her mouth doesn’t seem to know how to stop.

“And sometimes I feel like a child. Because people our age are supposed to know things, right? We’re supposed to know what we want to do with our lives and how to do things and how to be functioning members of society. But there’s just so much to know and I can’t hold any of it in my brain so sometimes it feels like I don’t know anything about anything. Like I never will. It makes me feel - ”

Dumb? Stupid? Useless? All of the above?

“It makes me feel like a waste of space.”

She cuts herself off, then, a little alarmed to discover the words she hadn’t quite known lived inside her before now. Too much, she thinks, eyes burning. It’s too much and no one needs to hear something like this. Least of all someone like Kieu My.

“I’m sorry,” Kieu My says.

She feels herself blink. “What? Why?”

“I had no idea you had all these things in your head,” Kieu My says. “But I should have known. You carry so much.”

Fatou’s throat is burning now, too. “It’s okay. I never told you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Kieu My says, in a soft way. Fatou can tell she means it.

Kieu My straightens, and Fatou’s arm falls down to her side. Before she can say anything else Kieu My’s hands are on her face and they’re turning her head and now she’s staring right into Kieu My’s eyes, inches away from her own, and the look on her face is completely and utterly serious.

“I need you to repeat something after me,” Kieu My says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Fatou says, too confused to say anything else.

“You,” Kieu My says, “are not a waste of space.”

And just like that, her whole throat goes dry.

“I’m not a waste of space,” Fatou says. She can hear the way her voice wobbles, just slightly.

Kieu My’s fingertips press into Fatou’s jaw. It’s a strangely nice feeling, like her whole face is being cradled. Like she’s being held afloat through the sheer force of Kieu My’s touch.

“Say it like you mean it,” Kieu My says.

“I’m not a waste of space.” She feels a smile take hold of her mouth before she can quite stop it. It’s kind of an amazing feeling.

Kieu My’s eyes are impossibly bright. “Louder!”

“I’m not a waste of space!” Fatou shouts, voice echoing through the empty train car. It surprises her, how loud her voice can get when there’s no one to hear her. It delights her to hear it. It doesn’t even matter that there’s no one around to witness this. She doesn’t need them to. She is here, and Kieu My is here too. It’s enough.

The thought is so overwhelmingly wonderful she starts to laugh, and then to cry a little. Which would probably make her feel foolish, at a different time. But right now her heart is so full it has no space inside it to feel anything else.

Kieu My tilts Fatou’s face down and presses her lips to her forehead, so gentle it makes something tight in Fatou’s chest melt away, as if it was never there in the first place.

“And don’t you forget it,” Kieu My whispers against her skin, and Fatou closes her eyes.

If Kieu My’s the one telling her something like this, maybe this time it’ll be easier to remember.

#druck #kieutou #kieu my vu #fatou jallow #sarah does writing #kieutou prompt fill

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout 4 companions respond to getting captured by Super Mutants (for optional added angst, maybe even getting turned into a super mutant). Strong not included for obvious reasons.

Ada: "Be advised: My guardian has equipped me with a tracking device in the event of my capture. You lack the privileges necessary to access their estimated time of arrival."

Ada is always matter-of-fact about her situation, even if her legs aren't functioning and she's squashed between two bags of body parts on the floor of an abandoned hospital. She's also patient, and content to wait until the sole survivor comes to retrieve her. In the meantime, she'll run escape scenario algorithms to determine the best way out of the building. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Cait: "Are you f***ing serious?! I'll tear your ears off with my bare hands and string them on a necklace! You don't know who you're messin' with, you green bastards!"

No one can match Cait in sheer viciousness when fighting to free themselves, but even she has her limits. The sole survivor would likely find her in a cage, hyperventilating and on the verge of tears. If the super mutants made the mistake of exposing her to FEV, she would tear the nest apart herself. Mutation would be another internal struggle for Cait, but I think she could successfully make peace with her new state of being if given enough time. A makeshift, giant baseball bat might help.

Codsworth: "Unhand me, you brutes! By God, the class of people I'm forced to associate with these days just keeps falling!"

Pre-war Codsworth is constantly offended by the super mutants' behavior, particularly their lack of housekeeping. He can't help bemoaning his situation for all to hear, something that would probably annoy the super mutants enough to bonk him on the dome until he shuts down. Some assembly required once the sole survivor catches up with him. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Curie: "While we are waiting, would any of you mind answering some questions for me about how you came to exist in this state? Ça vous dit?"

With a wide new world of oddities to study, Curie takes her abduction as yet another opportunity to learn. If nothing else, she can observe super mutants in their natural- or at least chosen- habitat. Prior to her synth transition, not affected by FEV for obvious reasons. Post-synth transition, however, I think Curie would take the mutation as an opportunity to study the effects that turn a person into a super mutant. I don't think she would lose her bubbly personality, similar to the way Lily the nightkin retained some of her old sense of self.

Danse: "You may have the upper hand today, but you and the other freaks of nature are fighting a losing battle." [spits]

Having lost the most to super mutants in the past, Danse fights his captors until he is completely spent. In fact, the sole survivor would have to practically carry the man home for a lengthy recovery, something his suit of power armor would definitely help with. Mutation into a super mutant is one of Danse's worst nightmares, and if exposed to FEV, he would beg the sole survivor to show him the same mercy he once showed Cutler.

Deacon: "Oh yeah, this reminds me of that summer I spent camping out on the National Mall. You even look familiar. Know anyone by the name of Uncle Leo?"

Like in every tight spot he's ever been in, Deacon masks his stress level with quick wits and quicker retorts. Most likely to slip his confines, let the sole survivor fight their way to the heart of the nest, then reveal he was free the whole time and they needn't have bothered. If exposed to FEV, Deacon would probably panic and enlist the sole survivor's help in searching for a cure, positive that a mutated countenance would irreparably damage his ability to help the Railroad. Then again, he might see it as a "new look" and use it to his advantage for a bit.

Dogmeat: [snarling]

Any super mutants that get their hands on Dogmeat are highly likely to lose fingers. Still, there's not much the canine can do if he's put in a cage, other than bark and wait for rescue. While FEV leaves many dogs as aggressive shells of their former selves, I think Dogmeat would be largely okay with his new green-and-bulky form and would still happily guard settlements and follow the sole survivor around, not unlike Gracie from Far Harbor.

Hancock: "Whoa, whoa relax. I've got time to hang out for a bit, no need to get all worked up. Don't stain the coat, I doubt you can cough up the caps to get it cleaned."

Of all the companions, Hancock is the most unbothered by becoming a super mutant captive. It's just another wasteland adventure, albeit one where the opposing cast of characters are all at least two feet taller than him. He might earn some bumps and bruises for being unable to keep his smart mouth shut, but he'll just bide his time until he spots an opening to wreak havoc and escape, or until the sole survivor comes along to wiggle him out. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

MacCready: "You know, I'm getting real sick of you green lunatics. Spent almost a decade living next door to some of your cousins, and they knew enough not to mess with me."

Upon capture, MacCready would roll his eyes and accept that he's going to have to wait for some help. He'd get more desperate the longer his wait went on though, envisioning a world where Duncan lost his dad without getting to say goodbye. Mutation wouldn't necessarily dampen his spirits at first: After all, if anyone can find a cure, it's the sole survivor.

Valentine: "Not exactly a group of masterminds, are you?"

At this point, Nick is used to getting abducted and locked up by just about every group in the Commonwealth. He knows super mutants well enough to know they don't listen to reason, but he can't resist getting in a jab or two about how he's far from edible. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Piper: "So, uh, what's say I write up a column about how super mutants are seriously misunderstood creatures and we'll call it even? No?"

Piper might have similar levels of confidence as Deacon, but hers are much more likely to waver when faced with possible death by ingestion. Her quips would be fewer and more nervous until the sole survivor arrived, at which point she would put her game face back on and cheer her rescuer along. If exposed to FEV, she would beg the sole survivor to help her find a cure for Nat's sake, and eventually weasel the information about Virgil out of them.

Preston: "I didn't need to get up close to know why you're called 'uglies,' but here we are."

While terrified at what the super mutants might do to him, Preston is the most level-headed when captured. He's already great under pressure in battle, and he's used to setting his own fears aside to find solutions for his woes. Most likely to have more people coming to his rescue than the sole survivor alone, due to his role with the Minutemen. If exposed to FEV, Preston would likely accept his fate with dignity, and make the sole survivor promise to dispatch him if he turns violent. I don't think he would, though, and the Minutemen would probably be more accepting of a super mutant officer than most.

X6-88: "I can afford to wait for field assistance, mutant. They will not make the mistakes I did."

X6-88 accepts his predicament calmly, like he accepts everything that happens to him. If unable to free himself, he will patiently wait for the Institute help he knows is coming, even if it's just the sole survivor with a pipe pistol. Regarding FEV mutation, turning into a super mutant might be the straw that breaks the camel's back for X6-88. In the Institute's eyes, the Courser is now hideous and no longer viable in the field: In X6-88's opinion, though, he is even stronger and more dangerous than he was before. I could see him finally choosing to desert his post out of a growing sense of self-preservation once transformed.

BONUS!

Gage: "Well look who's suffering from delusions of adequacy! I'd call you f***ers dumb as rocks, but at least a rock can hold a door open."

Porter Gage is great at heckling, and just good enough that he toes the line right up to where super mutants would start to understand he's insulting them. The sole survivor would likely find a gaggle of them around his confinement space, convinced he's complimenting them when he's actually being very rude. Breaking him out gives him the biggest smile. Becoming mutated himself might actually benefit Gage in the long run, as the raiders he used to be wary of would instead find themselves newly-wary of the Overboss' right-hand man.

Longfellow: "Too bad you aren't one of the more reasonable ones. Might've saved your skin."

Longfellow treats his own capture with a sense of humor, acknowledging that he's not as young as he once was and might need help now and then. Chuckles the whole time the sole survivor is fighting their way to him, and grateful upon release. If turned into a super mutant, he'd shrug, accept his fate, and ask to be escorted to live with his friend Erickson up near Far Harbor.

Maxson: "I welcome the day you and your kind meet total destruction."

If Danse is angry about being captured by his sworn enemies, Maxson is seething. Kidnapping a Brotherhood Elder is something that shouldn't even be possible in his eyes, let alone by super mutants. Once freed, he would do his best to erase the nest from the earth: Fire, missiles, tactical nukes if necessary. Also like Danse, Maxson would order the sole survivor to mercifully dispatch him if he were mutated. Additionally, he'd have them destroy any evidence of his exposure to FEV, and simply turn in his holotags with the news that he had perished in the line of duty.

Desdemona: [livid silence]

Plunks herself down, lights a cigarette if her hands are free, and waits. Eventually, the sole survivor or Glory will turn up, and she'll give them one, lingering look of disappointment before vanishing into the Commonwealth ruins. Least likely to get captured in the first place. If mutated, she would reassume her job as leader of the Railroad with no comment, and everyone else would know better than to ask.

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