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#idk how i'm even supposed to begin to tag this

toaster-fire-art · 1 year

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Happy Year Year!! I also Just hit 500 followers! THANK YOU!!

I changed my mind here’s a massive wip dump, some are really old and some are very new but all are the cuurent state they’re in when I opedned them today.

This is also my sneaky way of introducing you to some of my OCs! At least the most special boys that I have had for like 8 years but i don’t know how to start posting about them.

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bigassmoonchild · 9 months

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Maple Syrup

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: All you needed was to contain the aphrodisiac, make an antidote just in case, and go home. But working with the 141 was never that simple, and now you and Ghost would find out how it worked. Up close and personal.

Content Tags: Vague kidnapping near the beginning, Sex Pollen, Smut, PiV Sex, Fingering, Fuck or Die, Mild Dubious Consent (consent is gained after pollen gets inhaled), No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: Honest to god, I've been trying to write a story based on this thought alone. I can't even get it started but maybe this will get me. There also needs to be more Omegaverse written for COD, there can be some interesting stuff from it. Lmk if you want more of this, i'm exhausted <3 (p.s. I've changed the summary like, 10 times and idk how to feel about it)

Next, Headcannons, Masterlist

"Gaz, are we clear to enter?" Ghost asked into the comms. Gaz had gone into the building first, alongside Soap, to clear out the path you and Ghost would take. It was almost a straight shot, it felt too easy to get to the weapon you were there for. Maple Syrup, they had called it, even though it was an airborne weapon. You could hear a few shouts of a language, it sounded Russian but you weren't entirely sure, but you didn't have long to dwell on it as they stopped with a few gunshots.

Another few grunts came through before Gaz finally responded. "We're all clear in here, we still need to sweep a few rooms closer to Docs target, but you should be good to enter," he answered. Ghost nodded at you and led the way in, gun resting on his shoulder as he looked every which way. You knew it was a safety precaution, but you trusted Gaz.

You always trusted easily, it was in your nature. You were an Omega, and having trust in the people meant to protect you felt natural. You trusted your pack, even if you hadn't been a part of it for too long.

Maybe you shouldn't trust as easily.

Ghost shoved you into the wall next to you and started firing, bullets whistling past your ears as you ducked low. It reeked of sex, of Alphas and Omegas in heat or rut. Even through the military grade suppressant you could smell it, and it hurt. Ghost ducked around the corner, more gunshots echoing before a grunt came from him, and you heard the sound of a body dropping.

You didn't think before rounding that corner, seeing Ghost on the ground unmoving shook you. You ran your hands over him to feel for blood, but you couldn't see or feel anything. By the time you got to his shoulders, you found a needle trapped between his vest and arm, right in the meaty part of his inner-most shoulder. You plucked it off of him without thinking, tossing it to the side before pressing to feel for anything left inside.

You hadn't noticed the people advancing behind you, had ignored the calling from the comms or footsteps coming from the same direction Gaz and Soap were supposed to be in, but you felt the prick of the needle on your back. With a shout, you fell forwards, catching yourself from falling face first into the ground. You attempted to crawl forwards, get away from the men approaching from the back, but the medication they pumped into you caught up quicker than you could move.

It was with a groan that you sat up, swallowing thickly at the sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You tried wiping your face, but your hands moved slower than they felt, missing twice before wiping the area around your mouth. Pulling your hand back, a thin, dark red coating came back on them. You blinked hard, trying to remember what you had come here for.

The Maple Syrup mist. You couldn't remember much else about it, your mind moving at about the same speed as the namesake for the pollen-like substance. It was airborne. You knew that. There was something especially dangerous about it that a lot of the countries who knew about it wanted it gone. You were hired to make sure that no matter what happened, there was an anti-dote for it.

Something like that.

You blinked back into it when the door to wherever you were creaked open. You glanced up slowly, blinking at the men who entered and grabbed you, speaking loudly at you. What were they talking about? It wasn't Russian, you hadn't been in Russia or near any of their allies when you'd been grabbed.

You wouldn't understand it, your mind was moving at half the speed they were dragging you at. A few twists and turns, some scattered conversation floating around, and being dropped twice was what it took for you to be tossed into a similar room as your first. You laid face first on the ground, the cold helping to clear your head slightly.

Small cramps started in your back, twinging you every few seconds. A voice came over a loudspeaker, whatever they were saying it was something they were very pleased with. You turned, slowly, onto your back before crawling backwards to lean onto the wall behind you.

Maple Syrup. What the hell about it was so important they sent the 141 after it? Something something, military grade suppressants. The suppressants. Maple Syrup could break through military grade suppressants. You groaned, the cramps moving through your back and into your stomach. You could feel the heat, all-encompassing, starting to wash over you.

A loud, long creak echoed from the area to your left, and your head dropped to your shoulder as you turned it to look at the wall. A scent came wafting from the slowly opening crack in the wall, growing headier as the walls fully opened up. It was musky, with leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder you often smelled back on base. It made your mouth water.

The groan from the corner directly next to you startled you back into the present. As your eyes adjusted to the new lighting between the two rooms, a dark shape became clearer in the corner. A skull mask was lying tossed a few meters from it, and as your vision cleared up more, you could tell it was Ghost.

His head hardly moved as his eyes found yours, staring through you from beneath the balaclava.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" He grumbled, deep in his throat.

"Dosed with Maple Syrup," you whispered back, and his head fell back down between his legs.

A short, harsh sound came from him, it had to be a laugh, "then what's gonna happen to us?"

"When was your last natural rut?" You looked at him, licking your dried lips. You could see his head move sharply from your peripheral, his eyes flittering up and down. He shook his head, another dry laugh coming from him.

"It's that bad?" You nodded. "Probably since I took my last, longer leave. I think it was four or five years ago, but I don't remember," you blinked slowly. The levels of androstenone in him would be high, especially without a rut to keep him leveled, and the Maple Syrup would only force him to produce more. Too much, and he'd die of something. Whether it would be heat stroke, or dehydration you had no idea.

"If you don't pop a knot or two, you'll die. Heat stroke, maybe dehydration, but you'll die. I don't know the exact amount of androstenone inside of you, but if it gets too high you could be forced into a feral rut," you glanced over at him, his eyes scrunched shut, a low groan coming from his throat. He glanced back up to you, his eyes softened and fear started to lace his scent.

Ghost shook his head. "If I go feral, I'll kill you. I can't, Doc, I don't wanna kill you," his voice grew more strained as his sentence wore on.

"I'll be fine," you gave him a soft smile. "I'm going to go into heat, and if I don't get a knot, I'll die. I don't know if the weapon shit is able to counteract the birth control part of the suppressants, but I don't feel good. I need you to fuck me, Ghost," you whispered the last part. He shook his head. "You have my permission, so it's up to you to act," you swallowed again, eyes shutting as sweat beaded down your neck.

It was getting hot. Too hot, and you could feel your slick pooling and soaking through your pants. You could smell it, and you knew he could smell it. You could hear the panting breaths he took, the grunts he let out. A long, low growl came from him and his heavy steps inched closer to you.

Ghost grabbed you by the back of your neck, shoving you forward into the ground and scenting your throat deeply. He tore at the neck of your shirt, ripping it to let him get more of your scent. He licked a long line, sucking into the base of your neck softly as his teeth grazed along it.

He stuffed his fingers under your pants and panties, leaving you whining as two of his fingers brushed past your clit and buried into you. Even feral, the Alpha was trying to take care of you. They curled and pressed against you, leaving you writhing under him as you whined for more.

Pleasure blossomed in your abdomen, the heel of his hand grazing against your clit with each pump his fingers made, leaving you throbbing around his fingers. Ghost was able to get one more finger in you, nosing up your neck before sucking a dark hickey into your neck, teeth grazing along your neck and nipping you here and there, soothing it with a lick.

He tugged his fingers out of you, dragging your pants and panties down before shoving his down as well. He rutted his cock against your folds, soaking himself in your slick before sliding inside of you. A long, loud moan tore out of your throat as he kept sliding further and further into you, bottoming out with a growl from him.

Writhing against him with your mouth hanging open, he dragged himself out of you before rutting back in. Your nails scratched against the floor beneath you, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit and Ghost against your back.

Licking and sucking at your scent gland, Ghost dragged his face against it and growling. You could feel him throb inside of you, heat flooding you with his cum. A long whine came from your throat, hips pushing back and out against him as his fingers found your clit, rubbing in soft but quick strokes. Heat shredded through your abdomen, sliding through the rest of your body as your orgasm tore through your body.

You could feel your clit pulse with each heartbeat, his fingers not waning from stroking it, shocks flowing through you with each stroke. You thought you could feel tears pouring down your face, mouth wide open as you groaned. Ghost pulled out, letting you drop to the ground on your stomach before he flipped you over, pulling your legs to his shoulders and rocking his cock back inside of you.

Dropping your head back, your mouth still gaped open as he filled you once more. You could feel his knot catching onto you each time he thrust, leaving you whining. Ghost dropped back down, mouthing at your scent gland once more, leaving his open for your own mouth.

Pushing his balaclava away from his gland, you took licks of his for yourself. He tasted good, so good, his scent flooding into your mouth, you had to pull back just enough so that you could breathe. He grunted with each thrust, his abdomen brushing against your clit with every other thrust, your legs pushed into your chest.

Each thrust left you whining for more, faster, harder even if he couldn't hear or understand you through the feral rut. You felt tears pooling in your eyes again, dripping down your face as you gasped with each thrust, cunt throbbing around him as his knot caught more and more with every thrust until he couldn't pull out anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt a sharp, stinging pain radiate from your neck before it heated into what almost felt like agonizing pleasure.

It burned white hot and you clawed at his arms, hips bucking against his, which were just barely thrusting against you, trying to pump you full and pump deep.

When he finally released your neck, he let out a long groan as his own orgasm seemed to finally wash over him. Ghost let his head drop to your shoulder, his hips trying to thrust harder and you couldn't stop yourself from biting down on his own gland in turn.

It was hard to see the way his mouth dropped open under the balaclava and his eyes roll back, but from what you could see it left you moaning against his neck.

It took you a few minutes to come back to when you released his neck. All you could taste those few minutes was Ghost, nothing more. You had to gasp for actual oxygen as his taste nearly embedded itself in your mouth.

From the moment you released his neck, to the moment you became more aware of what was happening, he had adjusted you to sitting in his lap with his back against the wall. You could hear him talking, but your mind was gone. There wasn't pain, but you weren't entirely comfortable. Your neck was sore, and your cunt was still throbbing around him.

He nuzzled your neck, lapping at your now marked gland.

Ghost wasn't entirely sure what would happen, neither of you would be able to hide the marks and even so, he would have to report this. He figured it wouldn't matter, for now, he could wait to figure everything out until you got medevacked and taken care of. Price would know what to do, he always did.

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onismdaydream · 4 months

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sweet like candy (ft. satoru gojo)

tags: mdni. 18+. afab reader. slight sub gojo. handjob. slight bondage (restricted wrists). pet names. makeshift gag (underwear). reader is kinda mean. not proofread.

notes: happy valentine's day?? idk this was a dumb thought that got longer than i expected! i also didnt feel like going through and editing lol hope you like it anyways :3 reblogs/comments are very much appreciated!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

it's funny, really, how quickly satoru gojo folds underneath you.

he loves to be an asshole, thrives on the attention it gets him. he's never been one to keep his mouth shut and everyone knows it. so sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.

he doesn't mind, not one bit, when you make him sit on a chair and bind his wrists behind the back. it's not the best knot but it'll suffice — especially if he knows what's good for him. there's that smug little smirk that often makes its home on satoru's pretty face.

"what's this, angel? do i get a prize?" still so cocky... you'll have to fix that. your hands gently slide up his abdomen, starting from his firm stomach and resting at his pecs. his shirt rises with the movement and you can feel the way his body tenses slightly as his breath hitches. if it was anyone else, they might not have noticed it, but you did. despite the way he parades around, he's all bark and no bite. he crumbles as soon as you so much as lay a finger on him.

you hum softly, a dismissive sound. "something like that." sliding his shirt the rest on the way up so it sits above his collarbone, your fingers graze over his sensitive nipples, already beginning to harden from the cool air and your touch.

"should've stripped me first," satoru breathes out a chuckle. "gonna be hard to do when i'm tied up."

you don't respond, instead you keep your gaze on his exposed skin. there's faint red scratches that contrast nicely with his pale complexion — a reminder of the previous night. your nails had dug into his chest as you rode him, little crescent moons that morphed into long and narrow wounds when satoru desperately bucked his hips further into you.

"c'mon, baby," the white haired sorcerer looks up at you with that ridiculously pretty smile, something akin to mischief sparkling in his equally ridiculously pretty eyes. "don't make me wait."

you flatten your hands on his chest, squeezing the firm muscles of his pecs. if gojo was watching your expression, he might've kept his mouth shut.

"like what you see?"

"i'd like it better if it was quieter," you retort, your gaze flicking up and catching his own. satoru's face falters for a moment — his eyes widening and smile dropping — from the unexpected words, but he quickly recovers. he loved playing this game as much as you did.

"aw, don't be like that. you know you love me." that shit-eating grin makes its way to his lips, his perfect teeth catching the low light of the room.

one of your hands reaches down, palming at the bulge in his sweatpants, the other one resting on his waist. he was half hard already. though satoru's pretty much always hard at a moment's notice when it came to you. a low and quiet groan leaves the back of his throat, your palm putting much appreciated pressure on him. "mm, i suppose i do."

even with the layer of fabric in between his cock and your hand, you could feel it kick and throb as you touched him, soft noises of pleasuring slipping past his lips.

"yeahhh," satoru sighs, his head falling back as you pull him out and finally get your hands on him. "just like that, baby."

you knew satoru like no other, knew him like the back of your own hand. he didn't have to guide you on what to do because you were already doing it. drooling on his cock and mixing your saliva with his precum for makeshift lube to make the glide of your fist even better, stroking him nice and slow, using just the right amount of pressure so that it teeters on painful — you picked these things up naturally as you spent more and more time with gojo.

but that meant that he was constantly babbling, too. equal amounts of praise and curses, satoru could never shut his mouth.

"fuuuck, angel, no one's as good as you. always feels so fuckin' good." his hips buck up when your thumb teases over his slit, smearing more of his pearly precum around his sensitive tip.

he's vaguely aware of when you slip your other hand underneath your skirt, but he's too caught up in the feeling of your hot tongue licking up the underside of his shaft, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. "shit, baby."

too caught up to realize that you're not touching yourself, instead, you're sliding off your underwear. and the next time he opens his mouth, you take the opportunity to shove them on his tongue. gojo's eyes shoot open, piercing blue focusing on your smirking face.

"you talk too much," you say simply, pushing the soft panties further in his mouth, making him gag, the sound muffled. not giving him time to adjust, your pace on his cock picks up, your strokes becoming tougher and sloppier.

satoru whines around the fabric, his own drool pooling at the corners of his lips as he's forced to taste and smell you. it's intoxicating, really. he should feel dirty and gross as your used panties sit on top of his tongue, but he doesn't. it's almost as if his head is buried in your cunt, the sweet and distinct arousal that is undeniably you suffocating his senses. not quite as strong and certainly not as good as actually having his head between your thighs, but almost.

he can feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, your lips around his tip and hands on his shaft working him closer and closer to the edge, until he finally falls.

you pull away from his cock, letting the ropes of cum hit against his flexing stomach, mixing with the faint trail of white hair. his cock kicks as you work him through his orgasm, a stifled cry emanating from the sorcerer.

your panties are absolutely and thoroughly soaked when you remove them from satoru's mouth. he opens and closes his jaw a few times, stretching it out and regaining feeling in the area.

"could'a told me to stop talking," he grumbles, though his lips quirk up just the slightest amount. he's not ready to admit it — yet, at least — but he enjoyed that a lot more than he thought.

you laugh softly, a stark contrast to how you were just mere moments ago. "where's the fun in that, toru?"

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #perce.doc #.jjkai

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thebigbiwolf · 9 months

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Starvin', Darlin' - Chapter 1

Pairing: Not quite friends to lovers Astarion x OC/F!Tav

Chapter Summary: Astarion knows his power is waning, and seducing their leader Evelyn has gone poorly at best. If he is to keep himself in the tiefling's good graces, he's left with no other options. He must drink from a thinking creature.

Everything goes according to plan... until it doesn't.

Fic Tags: Minor spoilers for Act 1, The Bite Scene, Emotional slow burn, Angst, Teasing, Frottage (god I'm sorry), Pining, This is my first ever fic so idk how to tag things appropriately but you get the gist.

Fic Warnings: Eventual Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon (I cannot stress this enough), Bloodlust/Loss of control, Mentions of blood, lmk if you need anything else tagged.

Word Count: 6.1k

Read on Ao3: Here

A/N: I started this as a way to get this fruity fuck out of my head but I think I just made the situation worse. If you know me, no you don't. If you've followed me for a long time, sorry in advance. I may make this a mini-series depending on time and reception, but we'll see! OC is a rogue who seduces men to gain their favor but we'll get to that in later chapters.

Astarion's trance did not come easily that night; his hunger manifesting as a throbbing headache that refused to subside. It had been hours of tossing and turning in his tent, willing his body to settle, forcing himself to ruminate on the past few weeks.

Before he joined this disgustingly merry little group of adventurers, hunting rabbits and the occasional boar had been enough to sustain him. In fact, dining on larger animals had been a significant upgrade from the meager flies and rats he’d become so accustomed to under his master’s rule, but that was before all of this incessant hard labor.

He could feel his strength waning over the last several days. His senses were dulling, his reflexes numbed. Just this morning, he had failed to gain the upper hand with a particularly nasty kobold. He paid for it dearly when the damned thing all but pummeled him into the ground.

Luckily, Lae’zel had been there, hammer at the ready to divorce its jaw from its head. Beautifully done, by the way, but his blunder did not go unnoticed. All this sneaking around for barely a nibble during his watch was beginning to take its toll.

Astarion knew he was on thin ice, considering his relationship with their fearless, incomparable leader began with him pulling a knife on her and grappling her to the ground - in front of the damn wizard, no less. Some friction was to be expected.

But things hadn’t progressed much between the two of them since then. The pair rarely saw eye to eye on anything, and she seemed to have an innate passion for berating him over his unwillingness to stop for every single injured bird or helpless child as they traveled - as if playing the part of a hero was a favorable distraction from the literal time bomb in both their party and their heads.

“The world is full of potential allies, Astarion,” she had told him, sprinkled with a hint of her usual irritation. “I’m simply expanding our network.” As if a group of starving refugees and mud-slinging tree huggers were going to find them a decent healer any sooner. At this point, he’d heavily considered taking his chances with the goblins. At least they knew how to have fun.

What made matters even more frustrating was that Evelyn was seemingly unaffected by his charms.

Just how exactly was he supposed to secure his place under her protection when the woman barely spared him a second glance? Surely he wasn’t losing his touch. He was a master of seduction. Thousands of others had thrown themselves at his feet for far less effort. He’s had centuries of practice. The mere notion would be ridiculous.

In fact, he couldn’t remember a single moment in the last two hundred years where his advances had been so callously brushed off. Every attempt to make her laugh with his (admittedly morbid) quips was met with her chastising him for being insensitive and making threats to send him back to camp. She dismissed every flirtation, even if her lovely little blush betrayed her. She seemed determined to make him play her little game. He just hasn’t quite figured out what the rules are, yet.

Astarion couldn’t afford to take any more chances. If sleeping his way into her good graces wasn't an option, he was left with little choice. He wanted to make himself indispensable, so he was going to have to take drastic measures to ensure that his strength and physical prowess would never come into question. At least, not again.

He would have to drink from a thinking creature.

The idea of it was as invigorating as it was terrifying. He had spent the last two centuries enduring unimaginable cruelty, starved in ways mortals couldn’t begin to imagine--for years--without any reprieve.

No, starving doesn’t even scratch the surface. No words could ever describe the tortuous, gnawing, ravenous hunger that consumed his every waking moment under the heavy weight of Cazador’s boot.

Though, Cazador wasn’t here now, was he?

Curious.

Astarion had spent some time ruminating on who to approach before settling on Evelyn, though his options were limited at best. The githyanki was entirely out of the question; gods forbid he get caught, she would make quick work of him without allowing him so much as a single word of explanation. Shadowheart was…tempting, but that mark on her hand frequently caused her pain, and who knows if that magic would have any affect on him or worse, her taste? And Gale, well, he would rather subsist on a diet of garlic sprinkled with holy water before he put his lips anywhere near that man.

So, Evelyn it was. The tiefling wasn't terrible to look at. She was a younger woman full of vitality, so surely she wouldn’t miss a bit of her blood. He would just have to mind the horns.

He would be in and out. A quick nibble, then he'd be right as rain. One bite, he tells himself, barely enough to leave a mark. Then, he’ll pass it off and say that they had been attacked by bats during his watch and, not wanting to wake everyone, he quietly dispatched them and saved the day. Unfortunately, not before one of those wretched little beasts managed to puncture their illustrious hero. It was the perfect plan. Infallible. They'll eat it right up.

He continues passing through camp undetected, catlike in his silence, but when he reaches the canvas entrance of her tent ready to pounce, he freezes at the sight of her.

She looked…different while she slept. Softer, gentler, almost; surrounded by a nest of fur blankets, snoozing away instead of attacking his ego. Her hair was puddled beneath her head and horns like dark, red wine; rich and unrestrained by her usual loose bun.

Another realization hits him: this is the first time Astarion has ever seen her in her sleep clothes, a simple basic black wrapping across her breasts. Practical. Of course.

Her skin is pale enough to rival his own, even with the warmth of the firelight. She’s lying on her side, her uncovered shoulder lightly dusted in freckles, much like her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, and in the silence of the night air, he can hear her light, even breaths.

Cute, he thinks to himself. He could almost forgive her for being so maddeningly aloof with a face like that. Almost.

Astarion leans over to brush her hair away from her neck; the strands softer than he had anticipated. The thrum of her pulse underneath is magnetic. It pulls at his very being, beckoning him closer.

Settling on his knees beside her, his arms form a cage around her body.

He takes in the image of her form one last time and allows himself a moment to savor it. She is toned and lithe, much like himself, but smaller. Perfect. Delectable.

He bends closer, feeling her gentle puffs of breath on his shoulder; the warmth of her body. His ears ring with anticipation; manicured nails clench the sheets by her head.

She’s going to be so-

Something brushes his leg, hidden beneath the furs.

Her tail. He forgot about her bloody tail.

Evelyn stirs, and fully awakens right as his teeth are at her throat, eyes meeting his.

Shit.

“Shit.”

With incredible speed, she reflexively reaches for the dagger closest to her pillow, lunging at him. He just barely seizes her arm in time to save himself from being skewered.

“What in the hells are you-” he clasps his palm over her mouth to silence her.

The girl’s eyes are wild with panic, their golden hues burning a hole in his skull. He notices them flit down to where his body hovers over hers before she begins to struggle against him. “No, no, shh,” he whispers. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear.”

Her expression shifts from panicked to confused. She ceases her squirming. Good. Well, not good, but better. He can work with this.

“When I take my hand away, you have to promise not to scream and wake the whole camp,” he continues, hushed, “unless you’d like for them to find us tangled up in your bedroll. You wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression now, would you, darling?”

Her eyes widen. Her face flushes deep red, warming his palm against her skin.

There, he thinks, that should-

Her body turns, and suddenly he feels the hard edge of Evelyn’s knee make contact with the corner of his ribs. A direct hit. Pain shoots up his chest as he rolls off of her and onto his side, clutching himself and coughing, heaving air back into his lungs.

She hurriedly covers herself with her sheets, glaring at him as he struggles to collect his breath. He can see her fuming through the tears forming in the corner of his vision. If looks could kill, he’s sure she would have him skinned alive. Maybe use what's left of him to scare away the crows.

She’s still holding the knife out toward him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing in here?”

A fair question, one he was not prepared to answer. Perfect. He’s just going to have to wing this. Possibly with two broken ribs. He can’t believe he expected this to go any smoother.

“I-I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He raises a hand and falls back on his thighs with a grunt, grimacing in pain. His other clutches his side, a bit of sweat forming at his brow. “I just…”

Okay, this is it. He’s got this.

“I just needed, well,”

Aaaaand,

“Blood.”

There. Excellent form, Astarion. Good show.

“I - You needed what?”

She blinks at him, whether in disbelief or shock, he cannot say.

It takes a moment before his words start to sink in. She takes that time to scan over his body, purposefully.

He couldn’t quite tell if she was looking for something or if she was deciding whether or not to believe him, but then again, what other explanation could he give?

He works over his options in his head, considering just how difficult it would be to pass this all off as a terrible joke, but just as he’s about to open his mouth to start on damage control, he hears Evelyn heave a deep sigh. She lowers her weapon, then tosses it to the side, massaging her eyes in frustration.

Oh. Well, alright.

After some time, he watches her expression soften into understanding as a few notable things dawn on her. He’s never really eaten any meals with them, has he? Then there was the drained boar, which he so carelessly left out by the road. The damned beast hadn’t even taken the edge off that night, and he was so desperate to quell the nagging ache in his stomach that it lay there forgotten until she found it the next morning. He admitted to her himself that it had been drained by a vampire, after all…

A bit of silence follows.

Astarion doesn’t say a word, doesn’t dare move a muscle. He just allows her the time to process whatever she’s feeling. What’s important is that he’s still alive, she hasn't run him out of camp, and she hasn’t screamed for help.

He may be able to salvage this, yet.

She scratches the back of her head, carding her fingers through her hair to ease her irritation before finally meeting his gaze.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name leaving her lips pulls him from his thoughts. He can see the disappointment on her soft features just as plainly as he can feel it humming through their psionic link.

He didn’t think himself capable of guilt, but there was an emotion akin to it brewing within his chest. Ugh. He breaks eye contact, searching for anything to pull his attention away from his discomfort. The miscellaneous bags of clothing and trinkets she had scattered about her tent were just oh so fascinating. And was that a new hairbrush? Hm.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s taken aback by her question. He expected a more offensive reaction. A few insults, maybe ones pertaining to his sharp teeth or bloodlust, but an olive branch?

After all the lies, the invasion of privacy, and the failed attempt at assault?

She really is just full of surprises.

“Well, we aren’t exactly close, you and I. Though, you must admit, I’ve made several attempts to…” He waves a hand between them for emphasis, “mend the gap, so to speak.”

“Well, have you ever considered maybe not being such an asshole?”

Ouch.

But in fairness, no.

“I…” He thinks carefully about what to say next. The buzzing behind his eye socket acts as a threat, reminding him of the very fragile barrier between their minds. Should she choose to dig her claws in and pry the information out of him, she may find more than he's comfortable sharing, so Astarion makes a decision that surprises even himself.

He chooses to be genuine.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He gestures towards the dagger at her side. “But believe me, I’m not some monster. I’ve never killed another person.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, not for food,” he quickly corrects. “I’ve been subsisting on animals. Boars—like the one you found the other day—deer, kobolds, whatever I can get my hands on.”

“And what exactly was the plan here? You were just going to kill me and expect the others not to notice?”

He recoils at the accusation but fights to keep his expression neutral. “I had no intention of killing you. I would never do such a thing.” He leans in closer to her and lowers his voice, as if letting her in on a secret. “We need each other.”

Evelyn shifts to lean her weight on her arm as she listens, dark hair falling to the side of her shoulder. With the new level of exposure, he can hear her pulse settling into a more comfortable rhythm.

He swallows. Hard. His hunger is rearing its ugly head again, just at the sound of her.

Oh well, might as well lay all the cards out on the table while we’re at it.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and continues, “As it stands right now, I’m too slow. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” There is a question hidden in his words, a favor to be asked.

She seems pensive as she considers him, mulling over everything he’s said in her mind. She lifts a thumb to her mouth and starts nibbling on her nail, no longer looking at him. Nervous too, no doubt. How could she not be with what he’s asking of her, as if he had any right to ask in the first place?

“I understand you detest me, but-”

Evelyn appears to snap to some conclusion, sitting up straighter and placing her arms to her sides before she responds.

“No, I should detest you, Astarion, but I don’t. You just don’t impress me.”

Wow.

It feels as though he’s been slapped. He barks out a laugh that’s a bit too loud for the intimate setting, trying to mitigate the damage to his ego. “Excuse me?”

She has the nerve to shrug at him. “I’ve seen every trick you’ve used to fill your little black book, probably a thousand items over. I’ve used them all myself. So, frankly, I'm uninspired.”

For the first time in his undead life, he’s totally speechless. His face contorts in indignation, disbelief. This devil.

There is something dangerous in her expression as she leans further forward, neck tilted, exposing herself to him. Her eyes are hooded, with long lashes casting shadows over her cheeks. Her shoulders relax as she lifts her chin to stare down her nose at him, sneering.

He works his jaw, clenching the muscles unconsciously.

“Astarion, men are idiots. I’ve spent my entire adult life toying with them and robbing them blind. I’ve heard and seen it all. You really believed a few empty praises and mediocre jokes would have me jumping into bed with you?

Wha- Mediocre?

He opens his mouth with every intention of retaliating, but Evelyn’s palm unexpectedly rests itself on his calf, and the action stuns him into silence. She begins leisurely dragging her nails up towards his thigh.

His body responds involuntarily; eagerly, frustratingly, the delicate little motion leaving his skin prickling with excitement.

She regards his chest, admiring the hard planes of muscle. Then, her attention slowly inches down the toned curve of his abs until, finally, they stop at where his cock hardens disobediently beneath his pants.

“Your pretty face doesn’t detract from the fact that you’re still just a man.”

It finally clicks.

She’s baiting him, attempting to get a rise out of him.

Hm. Impressive.

Normally, at this point in her little game, he assumes most men would take her flirtations at face value. They would likely mistake this performance as an enthusiastic plea to bed her, but Astarion is not like most men. He sees her little game for what it is and recognizes it with ease because he has spent lifetimes playing it himself.

She leans back, satisfied with her little show, and smirks at him.

“So, you admit I have a pretty face?” He teases, his own smile twisting, becoming more mischievous.

She rolls her eyes, but this time she laughs. It’s a soft sound, genuine.

A pinkish hue crawls up her face and paints the tips of her pointed ears, but he can’t discern if that's supposed to be part of the act or, more likely, an unfortunate side-effect of the living experience. He’s finding it hard not to admire her dedication, regardless.

Well, that’s quite enough of that. Back to business, then.

“It’s settled,” Astarion clasps his hands together, “I’ll just need to impress you with my more eclectic talents if I am to earn your favor. We can start by gracefully slaughtering a few goblins, depending on how the rest of tonight goes. Which is entirely up to you, of course.”

The tiefling squints at him. “Oh no, if you want something from me, darling, you’re going to have to ask politely. With manners. You have those, don’t you? Familiar with them, at least?”

Under normal circumstances, he would find this amusing; nothing like a little role reversal to spice up the evening. But this feels different, heavier, as if her feigning indifference will alleviate the weight of what he's asking of her.

Fine. He supposes relinquishing a little bit of his pride is a fair price to pay.

He takes a deep breath. "Please."

"Please, what?" She lifts an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Come on, Astarion. Use your words. I know you’re quite fond of them."

He scoffs at her shamelessness, and for a moment, he honestly considers whether this is worth it, but he can't back out now. He'll make it through this, surely. He's been through worse.

Through gritted teeth, he barely spits out, "Please, may I drink from you?"

Gods. He's going to be sick.

"Good boy. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He’s going to fucking kill her.

There is an uncomfortable silence that follows. So many unspoken questions and a rising suspense that makes Evelyn adjust herself uncomfortably where she sits. Astarion is also musing to himself, still wondering how it's all come to this. Why did he choose her, again? Something about her not killing him right away? Death may have been preferable to this, actually, but he is pulled back to reality when she finally speaks up.

“So," she's picking lint off one of her pillows, avoiding his gaze as she asks, "how exactly should we do this?”

Well, it occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know. He understands the mechanics behind it, of course, but how exactly were they supposed to go about this?

Should he tell her that he’s never actually fed from a person before? Would it make her more or less comfortable to know that he’s just as clueless about this as she is?

No. He decides against it. Astarion has always done best when he’s playing the role of the confident seductor. This should be no different. He’ll just treat this as if he’s bedding a virgin: guide her, take things slow, and she’ll no doubt be begging him for more soon enough. It’ll be easy. All she has to do is behave.

“Lie back and get comfortable.”

He moves himself closer to her, settling at her side as she does what she’s told. The flap of the tent remains open, letting in the faintest amount of warmth and illuminating Evelyn’s features. With such close proximity, he can see the gold flames within her irises flickering and dancing, a genetic trait attributed to some luckier members of her race, and a feature of her’s that Astarion would have never otherwise noticed.

He can hear her pulse quickening as he closes the space between them, lifting himself a bit to settle above her, once again caging her between his arms. One of his knees parts her legs, and he can tell in the quietness of her tent that she’s struggling to hide her uneven breaths. Her stare is intense, but he can’t read the meaning behind it.

He decides to give her another out, just in case. Better safe than sorry.

“We don't have to do this, you know,” his voice is composed, as if his body wasn't currently screaming with anticipation. “I appreciate the consideration, regardless.”

“I’m fine.” Her response is clipped, dismissive. Her face remains stoic though her fingers fidget with the blankets at her sides. She had moved the furs to give him better access to her body. The darkness inside him preens at the concept.

Best get on with it, then.

He leans down and, unable to help himself, takes in the scent of her: woodsmoke and the faintest hint of vanilla, which he had watched her pick up from a merchant in the grove just the other day. “For Gale’s cooking,” she amended, when he gave her a questioning look.

He gives her one more moment to stop him.

She doesn’t.

A bit of pressure on the skin before it snaps and gives way, his fangs finally sinking into her. He can feel Evelyn’s body tense at the sudden intrusion. She hisses through gritted teeth, her arms involuntarily raising at her sides, reaching for him, but she stops herself before she touches him. He wants to tell her it's fine, expected, even, the need to ground herself, but all of his higher thoughts are plunged into complete chaos when he finally registers her taste.

Every cell in his body awakens.

The iron flavor of her floods his throat and sets his nerves ablaze. Its heat fills, expands, and splits every crack in his self control into deep, cavernous fissures.

A groan escapes Astarions throat before he has the chance to quell it. Of course it would be like this - drinking from a thinking creature. Drinking from her. He understands now why Cazador forbade this. Before, he had assumed it was a matter of keeping his spawn weak and compliant, but this was entirely different. This was far more than a method of control. The bastard had been withholding ecstasy greater than he’d ever known.

A feeling swells in him, crashing like waves through his veins. Warmth. It invades him and fills every fiber of his being. He wasn’t naive enough to believe his first time wouldn't have some sort of great, emotional impact, but this?

This was everything. How was he ever supposed to come back from this?

"Agh - Astarion," he barely registers her pathetic little whine through the haze. She finally allows herself to grab onto him, the loose sleeve of his nightshirt tightening in her fist. For purchase, he tells himself with what little is left of his consciousness, practical. That is until he lowers himself fully onto her in an attempt to relieve the strain on his biceps.

With no space left between their bodies, he doesn’t anticipate the blazing heat of her core on his thigh, even through the several layers of clothing. She gasps at the sudden pressure, fingers twitching, nails digging little crescent shapes into his skin. What surprises him most, though, is when the taste in his mouth melts into a flavor so much sweeter.

Something primal within him recognizes it instantly; it twists in his gut and sits there heavily, as if the emotion were his own: arousal.

Oh.

She is burning for him.

Good.

After all of that teasing, the woman he’s spent weeks enduring endless lectures from actually does desire him, or at the very least desires his body. Which is just as favorable, in his opinion. It’s just nice to know all his hard work hasn’t gone to waste.

If she lets him live, he's going to spend every waking moment tormenting her over this. His lips vibrate against her skin as he chuckles to himself, causing some of her blood to run down his chin in hot rivulets, blooming new stains onto her sheets.

He knows he’s had enough. He means to let go, he truly does, lest he end up draining their groups' only hope of survival. Surely that wouldn't go over well with their companions. Pitchforks, and all that.

But her whimpering, her heat, coupled with the ferocity of his hunger, all provoke a feeling that has been building beneath the surface which he’s unable to name; it's desperate and possessive, a predator guarding its kill from hungry scavengers. The monster in him casts a dark shadow over his mind as he feeds. His body no longer feels as though it is his own, betraying him; a slave to the demands of his appetite.

He needs her, needs all of her, and he cannot will himself to stop, too lost in sensation and the sound of her mewling to bow to his higher thinking.

He mindlessly rocks his weight into her and grunts—a slow, unintentional grind against her mound. The motion comes easy to him, like breathing - instinctual. The blunt edge of his clothed cock drags deliciously through her parted thighs. Evelyn’s breath hitches at the feeling, her squirming beneath him giving him the sickest form of satisfaction, but the animal within him demands her compliance.

His hand gathers her loose hair and pulls, growling, warning her to keep still. She whines at the force, back arching. The other grabs her arm, pinning it down, and tightens, thumb gently stroking against her wrist.

"Astarion,"

She’s no doubt making a mess in her smallclothes as she quivers beneath him, all flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. She may deny it later, but her taste tells him everything he needs to know.

Her body is burning against his cool skin, and her gasps are only spurring him on. He laps at the wound, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat, indulging himself in her. It's too much.

He feels her pulse weakening, her rhythm slowing.

It isn't enough.

He's about to latch on to her again, teeth at the ready and blinded by his eagerness, when he suddenly feels a piercing sensation behind his eye - the tadpole, he assumes, writhing in panic. Screeching at him to open himself to it. The discomfort is just enough to pull him back into his body. Then Evelyn's voice invades his mind.

‘Astarion, enough!’

He disentangles his limbs from hers, practically jumping off of the poor woman. He’s gasping for breath as he comes to his senses, the mix of her blood and his saliva staining his lips pink. It dribbles down his chin. He wipes his face with the back of his knuckles and licks them clean.

But then, the cold realization of what he’s done is thrust upon him like a bucket of iced water, shocking him back to the present. He’s going to need to come up with one hell of an apology to get himself out of this one. Or maybe he should just run? Baldur’s Gate is really only a few weeks travel at most.

“Shit,” he whispers, more to himself than to her. "Are you alright, dear?"

Evelyn's eyes meet his. Her pupils are blown, almost entirely overtaking the gold of her irises when she glances away from him to assess the damage.

"Gods damn it," she quietly groans and applies pressure to the wound, thankfully finding that it isn't too deep or particularly painful. She tends to it, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her brow. She searches for a rag as she avoids his concerned stare

A deep purple bruise spreads across her pale skin. Small red droplets trickle down the length of her nape, dampening her black breast band before soaking into it and disappearing entirely. He collects himself, willing his mind to cease its incessant urge to lick the damned liquid from her neck. She is flushed and sweating, unbalanced, panting from exertion as much as her own embarrassment. Her dark hair is a tangled mess from his attention. She looks ravaged.

It… suits her.

Astarion clears his throat, trying his best not to get caught admiring his handiwork.

She was right about one thing. He was, at least in some respects, just a man...

“Here,” he insists, grabbing one of the smaller furs and holding it up to her. She takes it from him without acknowledgement.

“I -” He begins, but he’s at a loss for words. What does one say in this situation? ‘My sincerest apologies. I don’t know what came over me! I must have gotten swept up in the moment!’ as if that pitiful excuse would overshadow the fact that he manhandled and almost devoured her.

He wants to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat.

He begins to worry that she really may not forgive him. He fears she'll wake the whole camp, or maybe finally cast him out like the monster he is. He wouldn't blame her. She took a great leap of faith in trusting him with this, and he rutted against her like some horny bugbear. Or worse, a teenager, he sneers.

Evelyn pulls the rabbit skin away from her neck, examining it. The brown hairs are matted and crimson, but the bleeding has stopped. She runs her fingers over the puncture marks, feeling the skin dip slightly where his fangs pierced her. She sighs with resignation, surely thinking about how the others will approach her with a plethora of questions tomorrow morning, face reddening at the idea.

“You could have warned me, you know.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize I was agreeing to…all of that.”

His heart sinks.

Of course she thinks it was on purpose. I mean, look at him. He’s all but thrown himself at her since the moment they met. He’s spent this entire time playing the part of the rake. It's only natural she assumes the worst.

“Evelyn, darling,” speaking her name aloud brings her focus back onto him.

The gravity of it is suffocating, condensing the already small space they shared. The tension pulls at something undefinable within him that he thought was long dead—a sincerity that betrays the character he’s been crafting for as long as he can remember.

It sways him.

More truths to forgive more transgressions, then. A fair transaction.

“I’ve had this condition for over two centuries, but, truth be told,” he clears his throat again, because ugh this is awful. And why does she have to stare at him like that, with her earnest, wet eyes? “You were my first. I’ve only ever fed on beasts.”

The implication is there: how could he have known?

His confession takes her by surprise. “You don’t…” she pauses, taking everything that transpired tonight into consideration. He must be giving her a look akin to pleading, because she takes mercy on him and disregards whatever question she was about to ask.

“Please tell me you didn’t do that to the boar.”

Seriously, a joke?

He barks out a laugh before he can stifle it. Whether it's from the sheer ridiculousness of the question or the disbelief towards her acceptance of it all, he truly doesn’t know.

“No, my dear. Just you, and you were delectable.”

Her expression is difficult to read. She’s not looking at him; refuses to, when she replies, “So then, did it work?”

Astarion moves to stand, peering down at her form. He exhales in relief, feeling as though he is a century younger. His muscles are lax; all the stress has been drained from his body. A novel experience. “Yes, I would say so. I feel stronger. My mind is clear. I feel…happy.”

He adds the last word in an effort to appease her, but it does ring true. His main source of joy since he contracted this affliction has been causing others pain, ripping out throats and such. This feels distinctly different, less exhilarating, but pleasant all the same.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you fight.”

He acknowledges her, then stretches his back out, extending his arms to the sky with his hands clasping behind his head. The motion pulls the rest of his nightshirt out of his trousers and tugs it upward, exposing the hard edges of his hips. He can’t confirm it, but he swears he sees her eyes flit quickly towards them before making an expeditious retreat.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” He lifts the flap of her tent to peek outside. No sign of anyone stirring, and the night is still young. Knowing the wildlife in this area, he may still have a chance to sate himself. With his newfound strength, he may even be able to wrangle up a bear. What a feast that would make.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bows his head to her in thanks.

He’s about to step outside, one foot exits the canvas before the rest of him, when it hits him that he feels…odd, uncomfortable leaving her like this. He can’t place his finger on why. He’s ridden atop many women and left without saying a word.

But, he supposes this is dissimilar.

Evelyn listened to him tonight, heard him out when anyone else would have carved him into pieces without second thought. She let him drink from her, forgave him for getting…carried away.

The most shocking part of it all is that regardless of her dismissiveness, he now undeniably knows that she’s attracted to him. Yet, she didn’t capitalize on the opportunity when it arose to take advantage of his altered state; of his needs. With that, she’s shown him more kindness in the last hour than he’s experienced in his entire undead life.

He likely owes her for this, of course, but there are worse fates he could endure.

The elf looks over his shoulder at her and catches her watching him intently, as if she wants to continue this conversation but can’t quite figure out what she wants to say. The intensity of her gaze almost forces him to turn back towards her, drawn to her by an unfamiliar ache; a thrill in his spine, the compulsion pulling at his chest like some sort of spell.

“This is a gift, you know.” The words escape him, hanging in the air between them with raw authenticity. He means to make himself sound more frivolous, but before he can edit them in his head, more truth spills from his lips, “I won’t forget it.”

His throat tightens. He considers her for a moment, wondering what he might find if he does turn to meet her eyes.

But, Astarion resists.

She must be exhausted. He shouldn’t take up any more of her time.

He leaves before she can respond. There wasn’t anything left for them to discuss, and he’s desperate to break free from the uneasy weight of her presence.

The second he steps fully outside, he feels as though he can breathe again, not that he needs to, being undead and all.

What a strange feeling, that was.

One he decides he’d rather forget. Best to not burden himself too much with it.

The taste of her lingers on his teeth. He finds himself savoring it for a moment too long before stalking towards the forest, confident. Ready to hunt.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 oc #im muting every bit of social media i have after posting this lmfao #evelyn

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months

Text

Just Let Me Adore You Pt. 12

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: okay soooo many. Violence, quite a bit of it actually, and then later it gets so nasty; oral (m & f receiving), double v penetration, mad dirty talk, praise kink goin craaaazy, double creampie, dumbification kind of- I think that's all of them but idk they fuck and it's filthy basically

Genre: maybe a little angst i think, lots of smut, even more fluff

Summary: You’ve been dating your boyfriend, Bruce, for 3 absolutely blissful years. He’s a scientist and professor who is as smart as he is kind and if anyone asked, you were sure you’d spend the rest of your life with him. That is until two mysteriously charming men that Bruce swears are dangerous take an interest in you that threatens to turn your entire life upside down. I mean… what exactly are you supposed to do with two gorgeous men telling you something that suggests that basically everything you think you know is a lie? And why does part of you have enough doubt to wonder if they might be telling the truth?

Series Masterlist

***

"Did you find her?" Steve asks.

"Fucking hell." She breathes out.

"What? What does that mean?" Steve frowns.

"How quickly can your people get ready to move because we need to go now."

"They're ready. Been on standby for your go ahead all night." Steve says.

"Good. This is the go ahead. I know where she is." Wanda says.

~*~*~

A glance at the clock tells you it's after nine. The clock is analog and there are no windows on this floor so while you're pretty sure it's morning, there's a chance it's been a whole day and it's night again. You sit cross legged on the bed, facing the clear wall, trying to come up with a plan of action. Your eyes narrow when you notice two shadows on the floor. People are walking this way. You gasp when you realize who one of them is and walk over to the glass wall.

"Bruce!" You yell banging on the plexiglass to make sure you get his attention. He jumps and turns to you, eyes the size of saucers when he sees you.

"Y/n? Oh my God." Bruce walks right up to the glass.

"What did you do?!" You ask.z

"Me? I- I had nothing to do with this I swear. I didn't know you were here! I swear." He shakes his head frantically.

"There were six people that knew what I was Bruce SIX and you were the first to find out. You kept a file on me like I was one of your little projects! How much do you wanna bet that stupid file is how I got here in the first place?"

"All I ever did was run a blood test and jot down some observations." He says defensively.

"All you ever did was run a blood test? On your girlfriend. Without her permission! Do you realize how not okay that is?!"

"I'm sorry! Look, I never wanted anything to happen to you. I will- find out who's responsible for this and get you out of here I swear."

"If you plan to help you'd better do it quickly because I can guarantee hell will be on your doorstep soon." You say.

"What's your tag?" Bruce asks you.

"Excuse me?"

"The uh- identification they gave you. Instead of your name. He would've given you an identification number, we use them for, ya know." Bruce's words trail off.

"Say it Bruce. Don't be shy. This is your work. I'm an experiment here."

"Look did he tell you your tag or not?"

"89273. I think." You say.

"You think? You need to be sure."

"I heard it once Bruce. Excuse me if I haven't committed to fucking memory yet." You roll your eyes.

"Y/n." He sighs.

"That's it. I'm sure." You nod.

"I need the letters."

"What?"

"The letters at the beginning. That's the part that makes it unique. Everyone here uses a different letter combination to keep our work organized. It'll help me figure it out."

"AZM." You say. Bruce mutters something that you can't exactly hear through the glass, but his face gives him away anyhow. "What is it? Why did you just get all pale?" You ask him.

"Nothing! Just- hang tight. I will- figure this out and get you out of here."

"Not like I can go anywhere in the meantime." You mutter. "Bruce!" You call before he can get far. He runs back over to your cell.

"Yes?"

"If I find out you're more involved in this than you are letting on, I will rip you to shreds in every sense of the word." You say. Bruce nods and dashes off. A few minutes later the camera in the back corner pops out from the wall and the whirring of its mechanics makes you turn around to face it.

"Good morning subject AZM89273." The same voice from before rings through the room. So, it is morning, just like you thought.

"You know, that arbitrary combination of letters and numbers is so many more syllables than just saying my name. I'm sure this is supposed to be some sort of display of your power in this situation but it really just seems like you're giving yourself more work." You say.

"That's funny I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter."

"Yes well if we all stuck to doing explicitly what was asked of us I wouldn't be here so, we can't always have it our way now can we?" You roll your eyes.

"We will begin round two of testing in one hour and fifteen minutes."

"I'll be waiting! Not like I can go anywhere on my own." You say with a lazy shrug. The camera disappears back behind its panel in the wall and you're once again left with your own thoughts and plans.

~*~*~

"Wanda where exactly are we?" Bucky asks when the trio pulls up to the address she gave. She'd rushed them into action when she located you, giving an address to the driver with a group of their, Wanda calls them minions, following in other vehicles.

"Bruce's lab." She says walking towards the door quickly.

"Bruce as in y/n's ex Bruce?" Steve places a hand on her shoulder.

"Wanda hang on we don't have a plan." Bucky says.

"Yes as in y/n's ex. And the plan is to get in there, get her out, and maybe break a neck or two in the process." Wanda says.

"You didn't want to mention in advance that y/n's ex was responsible for this?" Steve asks.

"It makes sense." Bucky scoffs.

"I didn't say he was responsible because I don't know if he is. As far as I know he's not the only person that works here. It could be someone else that uses the space." Wanda says.

"Wilson." Steve looks over his shoulder to call towards the group that's waiting for instructions. Sam walks over to the three of them quickly.

"What's the plan?" He asks.

"Surround the building and find every entrance. I want the whole place covered. The primary goal is extraction. If you find y/n, she is your top priority other than that nobody gets in or out of this lab until she's safe and the bastards who did this are in front of me and Bucky is that understood?" Steve says.

"Crystal clear." Sam nods.

"No, wait. I will prioritize finding y/n. Your guys should focus on locking the place down so the culprit doesn't make a run for it." Wanda says. Bucky and Steve exchange a look and a slight nod.

"Fine. Focus on keeping everyone inside. If you find y/n in the process she still takes precedents but in the meanwhile don't let anyone get out of there until we've got who we need." Bucky says.

"On it." Sam returns to the group and starts giving out directions while Wanda stays with Steve and Bucky to discuss their own strategy.

~*~*~

Fifteen minutes to go before they move you again. Time drags so slowly in this room of blank white walls. Assuming they sedate you again, you'll have to wait until they're wheeling you back to this room to make a break for it. If you're lucky like last time, you'll wake up before they make it here and you should have no problem getting by a couple of scientists.

CODE BLACK; INTRUDER ALERT; INITIATING LOCKDOWN

The blaring alarm and sudden flashing red lights coax you quickly to your feet. Perhaps you should be alarmed by the sudden alert and angry red flashes considering you're trapped in a room, but you'd bet money the security breach in question is here for you and you're the only person whose safety is guaranteed.

"Uh- Don't know if anyone is listening to me or not but in case you are, I'm pretty sure that warning code of yours, means your time is up and you should start running. Or don't, it'll make everyone's life easier. You can't really escape this." You say loud enough that you should be heard even over the repetitive warning.

"Y/n!" You spin around at the sudden call of your name. Wanda's magicked a hole in the plexiglass wall of your cell.

"Wanda? Wait a second did you bring the calvary here?" You ask stepping through the hole into the hall with her.

"You sent me an SOS did you expect me to do nothing with it? Of course I did, you have the mob basically at your disposal." She says hugging you tightly.

"I know, I just didn't think you'd be here with them." You say with a small chuckle.

"Oh please they're just the muscle on this mission. I'm the one that found you." She scoffs. "Come on, your boyfriends went looking for the culprit. I'm sure they're waiting for you." She says draping her arm across your shoulders. The two of you head further into the facility, every so often passing frantic scientists being corralled by Steve and Bucky's men.

"I don't think all of these people were involved in this ya know." You say to Wanda.

"I'm sure they weren't but Steve and Bucky said no one's allowed out until they find the right people. Better safe than sorry." She shrugs.

"Yeah I guess so. There were three guys that kidnapped me, I didn't hear them all talk so assuming none of them are the guy orchestrating this there could be anywhere from 4 to 7 people involved, based on who I've seen or interacted with. There could be others of course. There have been some periods of unconsciousness on my end so-" You rattle off.

"Don't worry. I'm sure between your boyfriends and their minions they'll find out the exact number and their identities in no time." Wanda says. Eventually, you find Bucky and Steve, their backs are to you and Bucky's got someone pushed up against the wall. You rush up to them when you realize it's Bruce they're shaking down.

"Bruce." You say. Steve and Bucky turn to you and Steve has you in his arms not a second later. He's mumbling about you being okay and blaming himself and Bucky for this all happening (somehow), between kisses atop your head.

"Thank God you found her Wanda." Bucky says. As much as he wants to hug you he's not about to let Bruce go.

"Steve I'm alright. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, you can let me go." You mumble into his chest. It takes a few seconds before he unwinds his arms.

"Are you hurt? Do you need anything? I am so sorry princess. This should never have happened. I-"

"I'm okay Stevie. As far as I know all my parts and pieces are exactly where they're meant to be. You can stop doting and blaming yourself. That doesn't even make any sense." You say.

"We're just- so relieved to see you." Steve sighs.

"Right back at you." You say turning your attention to Bruce. "Are you going to tell me who's responsible for this Bruce, because I think you've known since you saw me a few hours ago and I couldn't push it then but now, your life is in- technically in his hands but whatever you tell me will determine if I let him kill you or not so choose your next words very carefully." You say.

"Wait a second it's not Bruce that locked you up?" Bucky glares at him.

"Not directly, I don't think so but I have a strong feeling he knows who did." You say.

"Y/n, please." Bruce chokes out.

"I need a name, Bruce. A name." You say.

"Dr. Gekko. Colin Gekko." Bruce relents.

"Describe him." You say.

"Brown hair, green eyes, tall and pale. He's got a birthmark on his neck." Bruce rushes the description out breathlessly.

"Drop him Bucky." You say. Bucky lets Bruce go and Bruce hunches over struggling to catch his breath. Steve is already on the phone before you can say anything.

"Clint, we need to find a Colin Gekko. Brown hair, birthmark on his neck, tall and pale with green eyes. If you can find a photo- yes, make sure everyone knows. He is the target." Steve says into his cell phone.

"We should start looking too." Wanda tells you. You nod in agreement.

"Y/n, wait." Bruce says before you've even started to walk away. He holds out a flash drive to you that you look at with confusion. "It's everything we have, on you. What Colin was doing, my- initial file. I've wiped them all from our servers but... I thought you'd wanna have the information." He explains. You take the thumb drive from him.

"Thanks." You mutter.

"I was so looking forward to finally having a reason to break his bones." Bucky rolls his eyes.

"You can break Colin's bones when we find him." You say. "I bet he's still in whatever observation room he was using to watch me."

"End of the hall." Bruce yells after you all. Following his suggestion, the four of you head down the hall towards the observation room. Bucky kicks the door in before you even try to open it. Chances are this Colin guy tried to barricade himself in there anyway. Sure enough, when the door flies off its hinges one scrawny looking green eyed man, birthmark on his neck and all, turns to look at you all with fear on his face. Steve grabs him before he can make a move, holding his arms behind his back.

"So you're the one behind all of this." You cross your arms.

"I should rip your head off your shoulders." Bucky glares. You hold up a hand to stop him from moving towards the cowering scientist.

"I want an explanation." You say.

"You want an explanation? You broke his heart and one of the greatest scientists I've ever known couldn't do his work." Colin grits out.

"So- Bruce, put you up to this?" Wanda frowns.

"No." He scoffs.

"Sorry, let me see if I can piece this together. My boyfriend, lies to me for months, so I break up with him, well within my rights and you kidnap me to run experiments in hopes that you'll- what? Fix him? Get brownie points? Maybe a promotion?" You ask.

"I've been here for years, always flying under the radar, I thought for sure you, the bitch who ruined him-" he stops to groan when Steve tightens his hold on him in response to his vulgarity towards you.

"Watch your mouth." Steve warns shoving Colin to his knees.

"I deserve to be a head scientist here." Colin says.

"Aw, well now you'll be a dead scientist. Broke the code of ethics and all, only to wind up with nothing." You shrug. "Not even a pat on the back from your 'so-called' idol who, by the way, totally gave you away for us to find you."

"Wait I- I don't wanna die." He shakes his head.

"Oh. Maybe you should've thought about that before you kidnapped me. Word of advice, don't target someone with mob ties if you like living."

"You know, if you keep him alive you could teach him a lesson he won't forget." Bucky mutters quietly. You look over your shoulder at him and consider his suggestion.

"Do you have a knife?" You ask.

"Yes." Bucky pulls out a blade and hands it to you immediately.

"Wait a second what do you need a knife for?" Steve asks. You squat in front of Colin and grab his wrist, placing his hand flat on the ground between you. With the knife in hand, you start to sing as you jab the knife between the gaps in his fingers.

"You have all your fingers. The knife goes chop chop chop, and since you were not careful, I'm gonna take some off." You slam the knife down severing the two middle fingers on his right hand and the scream he lets out his piercing. Steve's eyes look like they're about to fall out of their sockets and Bucky's currently trying hard not to let it show how much he enjoyed watching you do that.

"Y/n!" Wanda gasps.

"What?! He kidnapped me! I coulda killed him, taking two fingers is letting him off very easy!" You say.

"Honestly the little song was a cute touch. Clever." She nods.

"Right?! Thought it'd make it a little more fun." You link your arm through hers turning to leave Colin wailing on the floor.

"Hang on." Bucky says. He walks over to Colin and grabs him by the top of his head, pulling him up onto his knees. Bucky shoves his thumb into one of Colin's eyes, sending him into another screaming fit. "Leave town. Because if we ever see you again. I'll take the other eye." Bucky says menacingly, letting go of his hair. Colin crumples to the ground again as Bucky cleans his finger with a handkerchief from his pocket. "Let's go." Bucky says, a hand on your back guiding you out of the room and subsequently Wanda, while Steve walks behind you, discussing something with Sam.

"So what happens now?" Wanda asks.

"We take you home." Steve says.

"I meant with Colin." She frowns.

"He'll probably get out of town thanks to Bucky's threat."

"How did you guys find me anyway?"

"Wanda came to us." Bucky says.

"She interrupted a meeting and nearly got shot in the process." Steve says.

"I mean, I didn't know they were in a meeting until I got there. Besides, I was too busy being angry about you getting kidnapped despite their insistence on security watching you." Wanda says.

"Well I'm safe now." You shrug.

"We want you to see our medic." Bucky says.

"What?"

"We don't know what that sick bastard could have done to you and we think it would be best to have you looked over just in case." Steve explains.

"Alright. Fine, but you stay the whole time." You say.

"Deal." He nods. "Wanda we'll drop you at your apartment first and bring y/n back later, okay?" Steve says.

"Sure whatever." She shrugs. The rest of the drive to Wanda's apartment is quiet, Wanda hugs you tightly before getting out once you arrive. After dropping her off, the three of you head to Bucky and Steve's penthouse apartment where the medic is already waiting for you apparently. She's quick, but thorough in her examination, checking superficial things like your reflexes and vision asking several questions, taking samples of your blood, and whatnot. When she leaves, you let out a deep breath finally feeling comfortable.

"How're you doing princess?" Steve asks sitting beside you to rub his hand in circles on your back. Bucky sits on your other side with a hand on your knee comfortingly.

"I'm... alright- it's just been, a day- or a couple of days. I don't really know how long it's been actually." You frown.

"It was only one night. Wanda was up til morning trying to find you and we headed out as soon as she got you." Steve explains.

"Oh- well that explains why it's only after 1 pm." You mutter.

"This- may not be the best time to say this but I'd like it to be known that the little knife game you played with that guy, was very... impressive." Bucky says.

"Thank you, although I think it's fine to say that now because it like just happened." You chuckle.

"Seriously Buck?!" Steve rolls his eyes.

"What?!" Bucky says.

"Am I missing something?" You look between the two of them.

"Don't 'what' me!" Steve scoffs.

"Oh come on, there's nothing wrong with what I said you're the one being weird about it!" Bucky says.

"Okay, definitely missing something." You nod.

"I'm being weird about it?! Because I know what you meant by that! Don't play dumb."

"Hello!" You shout and they both look at you immediately.

"Yes princess?" Steve says at the same time Bucky says,

"Yes sunshine?"

"Hi, can you let me in on this weird psychic conversation you're having?" You ask.

"If Bucky was 'impressed' with your little knife trick it was not because of this head up here." Steve says tapping his fingers on his temple.

"What-?" You frown.

"He thinks it was hot." He rolls his eyes.

"Ohhh! You could've just said that. Either of you." You laugh.

"You were just kidnapped, now is not the time to be thinking with our- lower appendage." Steve frowns.

"Come on pal you're telling me it didn't stir something in you seeing her do that?" Bucky asks, grabbing your hand.

"I'm fine Stevie, I- being turned on is a much more positive reaction to me chopping someone's fingers off than I would've expected." You shrug.

"Wait you're- you're okay with it?" Steve asks.

"Well, it's better than you being freaked out by it." You say.

"Definitely not freaked out." Bucky mutters kissing up your shoulder. You relax against his ministrations, enjoying the way his lips feel on your skin.

"That's a relief." You chuckle breathily.

"Buck-" Steve starts to roll his eyes but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you, kissing him to stop whatever scolding he was about to give Bucky.

"Alright pal now that she's given you the green light, fess up. I know you better than anyone else, don't pretend you weren't thinking about bending her over when she took that loser's fingers like that." Bucky says, he's stopped littering your throat with kisses to taunt Steve, but his thumb is stroking the back of your neck as he speaks. Steve pulls away from your kiss to answer him.

"I was thinking about what an absolutely perfect queen she'll make." Steve says.

"Won't she?" Bucky smirks.

"Oh flattery like that will get you everywhere." You say with a small giggle.

"Right now I'm hoping it'll get us inside of you." Bucky says.

"Now that's a wish I'm only too happy to grant." You hum.

"Yeah?" He smirks.

"Absolutely." You match his cheeky smile with one of your own.

"Come here, pretty girl." Bucky hoists you off of the couch into a bridal carry. Steve kisses you once more before Bucky carries you up to their bedroom with Steve behind you. When Bucky tosses you onto the bed, Steve immediately pulls you into another kiss.

"Are you sure you wanna do this now princess? You know you can always tell us to stop if-"

"Steve stop talking!" You huff out, cutting him off. He blinks at you with a frown on his face.

"Y/n." Bucky's eyebrows knit together at your sharpness.

"I've had a very shitty 15 hours and I don't want to think about it anymore. Please. I am going to be okay just- distract me." You explain with a sigh.

"Happy to sunshine but, don't forget we love you. Sometimes we'll worry." Bucky says softly.

"I know. You can worry all you want- later. But right now I need my mind on something else." You say. Bucky nods and tugs your pants and underwear off in one go. His lips trail kisses starting at one knee and working up but he skips the place you need him most to repeat the trail up the other leg. The moment Bucky's tongue swipes through your slick folds, Steve drowns your moans with a kiss so fierce you can't breathe. Bucky wraps his lips around your clit, licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves. Your hips thrust up against his ministrations and one of his arms comes up to lay heavy across your waist, holding you down.

"Steady doll. Gotta stay still for me." He grumbles between your legs. When two of his thick fingers slide into your entrance and curl upwards you're forced to break away from Steve's kiss, your head thrown back at the feeling of his digits working you open. Steve uses the moment to take your shirt off and unhook your bra, turning his attention to your newly exposed skin. He litters your chest with blooms of red while his fingers toy with your hardened nipples. Between the two sets of hands and lips, your head is spinning with pleasure and you can feel your release building quickly.

"G-guys I'm- fuck, oh my god. I'm gonna-" you struggle to pant out a full thought with their overwhelming touch.

"You gonna cum for us princess? Go ahead baby, you know how much we love it when you fall apart." Steve coaxes, taking your earlobe between his teeth. Your back arches as your orgasm hits, as if his words were the key to a door that wouldn't open on its own. "Good girl." Steve hums when you take in a shuddering breath.

"You taste so fucking good sunshine." Bucky mutters kissing up your abdomen.

"You tell me every time." You chuckle.

"You disagreeing with me?" He quirks an eyebrow at you making you laugh harder. "Steve? Second opinion?" Bucky turns to Steve.

"I think I need a fresh taste test before I weigh in." Steve nods, effectively ending your giggle fit as he and Bucky shift accordingly, Steve kneeling between your legs and Bucky moving onto the bed beside you.

"Wait, Bucky stand up. I wanna blow you." You tell him. He lets out a groan.

"You don't have to tell me twice." He says standing up and shoving his pants down his legs quickly. Steve huffs out a laugh before diving into your heat. Your mouth drops open with a moan as his tongue laps at your pussy. When it comes to most things, Bucky and Steve have very different styles of approach, between your legs though, both men devour you like their final meal- you sometimes wonder if they discuss what they do to you to determine what works best, but you only allow yourself a second to relish in Steve's tongue as Bucky is standing at attention beside you. You take Bucky into your mouth, bobbing your head along his length eagerly. Bucky's head falls back with a groan as you work him.

"Fuck, feels so good doll." He mutters. Just then, Steve wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly making you moan around Bucky. Your hips jerk when Steve slides two fingers into you and you struggle to keep sucking Bucky's dick as Steve pulls you towards another orgasm.

"Let go for me baby." Steve mutters against you, tongue lapping at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You have to pull off of Bucky entirely when your release hits this time around, your body spasming uncontrollably.

"That's it doll, so pretty." Bucky hums, stroking your hair soothingly as he sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

"Gotta say, tastes better every time." Steve nods and you let out a breathless chuckle.

"You two, are ridiculous." You shake your head.

"How ya feeling sunshine?" Bucky asks.

"Good. Ready for y'all to fuck me." You say.

"Someone's insatiable." He laughs positioning himself against the headboard and lifting you onto his lap.

"Yeah and whose fault is that?" You wink. Bucky rolls his eyes but there's a smile on his face that keeps yours in place. At least until Bucky shifts you again, positioning himself at your entrance and pulling you down on him. You let out a shuddering moan as you adjust to the sudden intrusion, Bucky groaning at the way your walls pulse around him.

"Are you implying that we're responsible for this?" Steve laughs kissing your shoulder.

"Absolutely. You spoil me. I have expectations now." You say.

"Expectations, huh?" Bucky smirks, settling his hands on your hips.

"Obviously." You nod.

"Obviously." Steve scoffs. "Well Buck, let's keep those expectations high, aye."

"Was thinking the same thing." Bucky winks over your shoulder. He shifts below you, before lifting you up to bring you back down against him as he thrusts up. You cry out as Bucky takes you like that, fucking up into you and forcing you down on him. He keeps it up for several minutes before stopping, at which point you're reeling from pleasure. "Alright sunshine, we're gonna try something. Stop us if it gets too much." Bucky tells you. You should probably ask what the thing is but you're too busy trying to catch your breath so you just nod as Bucky pulls you forward to lie against his chest. Steve shifts behind you, his hands grabbing your hips firmly. You gasp and jolt slightly when you feel the head of Steve's dick poking at your already stuffed pussy.

"Wait a second there's no way you'll both fit." You say.

"Yeah we will, just relax for us baby." Bucky kisses your temple.

"Stop us if you need to princess but I think you can take it. You are perfect for us after all." Steve says rocking forward slowly, working himself in beside Bucky. You focus hard on breathing through the definitely too intense stretch of them both. When Steve eventually bottoms out, the two of them hold incredibly still, kissing reachable parts of your skin as they allow you to adjust. After a few moments, you start to squirm against them.

"Move. Please." You breathe out. They take a second to get leverage and then both of them are thrusting into you harshly. They sort out their rhythm almost immediately and all you can do is moan as Bucky and Steve fuck you together.

"Knew you could take us both. Such a good girl for us." Steve huffs out between thrusts, his breath hot in your ear. You whimper out an incoherent response.

"Aw Steve I think she's gone a bit cockdrunk on us." Bucky taunts, taking in the way your eyes are glazing over.

"Think so? Good. She wanted not to think anymore after all." Steve says. You can hear them, but their conversation falls to your ears muted, so overwhelmed that you're struggling to process anything other than the drag of their dicks along your walls.

"F-fuck I, I'm gonna- oh god." Your whiny pant isn't even a complete thought, but it's the best you're able to get out so blissed out from the way Steve and Bucky fuck you.

"Gonna cum for us sweetheart? Gonna soak our fucking dicks like a good girl?" Bucky coos at you mockingly.

"Please. Please. Please. please please please please." Your broken pleas are the only response you can offer teetering so close to the edge you can practically taste it.

"Go ahead princess, cum on our dicks, show us how good we fuck you baby." Steve says, kissing your neck. Their words along with their pace send you over the edge with a cry of their names into an orgasm so strong it's blinding. You're shaking so hard they have to tighten their hold on you as they chase their own ends. It doesn't take long for them to spill into you either, Bucky first with an expletive on his lips and Steve right after with a long moan that sends shivers down your spine. Between the two of them it's too much and you can feel their release leaking out of you. For a few moments nobody moves, it's still and silent aside from heavy breathing. Steve pulls out first and you whine when he does. "We gotta get you cleaned up princess." Steve says in response to your protesting grumble while Bucky soothes you with kisses all over your face. You watch as he walks into the bathroom and you can faintly hear the tub running. After some time, how long? Who knows, Steve returns.

"Alright sunshine. We're gonna get in the bath now." Bucky tells you. You don't have the energy to argue but you do whine again when he, with Steve's help, lifts you off of him to carry you to the bathroom. The plus side of this is when Bucky does place you in their too big jacuzzi bathtub the water is so warm you practically melt into it. Steve and Bucky take their time washing you up, gentle hands and a soft washcloth glide over your skin like it's the only thing that matters to them as they whisper promises of love and adoration and you swear you've never felt safer than in this moment.

It's incredible how what started as an anonymous gift at the mall/two overly complimentary strangers ended with you here. You're not sure loved is a strong enough word to describe how they make you feel.

***

Part 12/12

Tagged Users: @cjand10 @vicmc624 @mandijo17 @marvel-fandom23 @kattreffic

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #stucky fanfic #stucky x reader #stucky fluff #stucky smut #stucky #stucky angst #werewolf bucky barnes #werewolf steve rogers #werewolf au #Just Let Me Adore You #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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psalmsofpsychosis · 3 months

Note

"#Alfred basically catches a lamb and goes

#''you're a beautiful wolf; i know you are; now you're gonna bite my hand until you draw blood so we both believe it;

#because that's the way we know how to be men.''

#and then 10 years down the line he looks at Bruce and he whispers in horror; ''that's a wolf''

#GIRL YES HE IS; YOU MADE HIM ONE. IT WAS YOU"

Your tags are so- Idk I don't have the words. No wait I DO-

THIS IS FREAKING BEAUTIFUL OMG

The way Bruce wasn't born with sharp teeth and claws to defend himself against the world. The place he was born into removed any need to grow them, but at the same time the place he was born into was the catalyst for him to turn into stone. Hard, unyielding to pressure and with its own jagged edges that you can hit until your knuckels bleed.

But the thing about stone is that you can chip away at it until it looks like what you want.

So Bruce was a lamb at the beginning, possessing talc for a heart, easy to rub to dust, but after the murders, he was molded into something different. He grew teeth and claws so big and strong it became difficult to be gentle, his heart was rubbed to dust and reformed and compressed and rubbed to dust and reformed and compressed until it turned into a diamond.

Alfred taught him how to be a wolf but didn't account on what would happen once Bruce's claws were bigger than his own.

CAN YOU TALK MORE ABOUT BRUCE AND ALFRED'S DYNAMIC PLEASE? You're literally rearranging my brain chemistry as I'm typing, wow. This feels so freaking strange. Thank you so so SO much

I wish you an AMAZING day

GOOD MAD MONDAY NOON TO YOU ANON YOU'RE KILLING ME. Like i'm over here lying face flat on the ground, head fucking full 99 thoughts per second this ride is going straight to hell—

You actually made them sound a lot like the Pygmalion myth, which is so right and true and also a very delicately apt interpretation of the way Bruce and Alfred's dynamic unfolds, particularly in Bruce's childhood, and particularly as portrayed in the Gotham series (which is my all time favourite Bruce&Alfred dynamic anyway, so excuse me for being annoying and immediately nosedive down that rabbithole)

See, to me the thing is, i dont think Bruce and Alfred understand each other at all. They're cut from very different clothes, and Alfred doesn't understand what Bruce /is/, but he understands what Bruce /can become/, maybe even what he's supposed to become, Bruce is the fifth element to him. Combine that lack of understanding and all the love and affection Alfred holds for Bruce and of course he makes a project of perfection out of him; Alfred molds and makes Bruce. Batman as a persona and as a purpose precisely exists *because of the way Alfred raises Bruce*, this is something that Gotham TV puts extra emphasis on. In many ways Alfred does carve Bruce into an idea of perfection, *his* idea of perfection, and Bruce lets him too. This is where stuff get a bit complicated though; Alfred is someone who struggles with his own humanity and darker side. He's so loving and loyal, but he's also bitter and mean with a vicious bite and he handles Bruce with such cold hands sometimes, and he hates every second of it, he hates his own humanity. So he pushes Bruce to get rid of his too, and they have this constant push and pull because Bruce has those exact traits. they're similar not in what they own about themselves, but in their shadows, when the sun shines on them their flawed humanity has the exact same shape and they both don't want a shadow; eventually the way they resolve this is by standing back to back and protecting each other and now they share their shadows and it's not so scary anymore. The Pygmalion myth as a parallel interpretation of their narrative fits so darn well because you are right, Bruce is made into stone and Alfred sculpts him to something beautiful and almost horrifying, almost inhuman, he sometimes forgets that Bruce is a person and not an idea, and it shows. But Bruce breaks mold, he always does, he forces Alfred to live with his own humanity and Bruce's, and this brings up a lot of grief for Alfred, but he loves Bruce so he finds a way to live with it and he does.

The Lamb/wolf metaphor is a different face to this same transformation process; in the early years Alfred has little space for Bruce's terrifying softness, but neither does Bruce. Bruce is scared of his own vulnurability and tenderness, this lamb *wants* to become something else, something less weak and helpless, something that could've saved his parents. He doesn't want to become a wolf persay, but the thing is, he has the makings. This is the reason Alfred can bring it out of him; he very much has the makings of a wolf. to juxtapose it with the pygmalion allegory; you cannot carve out of the stone what is not already in it. (this does bring up the question wether Bruce was ever a lamb at all, but that's a different topic for another day✨️)

anyway yep, i love your mind Anon, and thank you for the question! Hope you have an absolutely wonderful day too ❤️❤️

#i'm gonna put my brain in the Bruce&Alfred vibe juice and put in the lab fridge #let it soak for 79 hours i need to THINK #this is so so good so many good ideas happening here #and i'm always a sucker for Gotham!Bruce&Alfred talk 😩😩#Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Bruce Wayne meta #Alfred Pennyworth meta #Batman #Batman meta #batfam #Gotham #Gotham TV

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eskumii · 2 years

Text

soft yandere!incel!izuku midoriya + darling who's a famous pro hero

TITLE: " SHE WANT ME FR " — navi.

NOTES: literally ascended into the air mid sleep cycle to write this and it's kinda different than what i usually write so forgive me i'm feeling a little silly goofy rn ,, nsfw below the cut!! idk why this keeps not showing up in tags :( so frustrating, i reposted like three times already man edit: works now lol

PAIRING: soft yandere!incel!izuku midoriya x pro hero!reader

GENRE/AU: izuku is quirkless and works a boring office job, rookie pro hero!reader, izuku is a pervert + woman hater + literally delusional smh

CHARACTERS: izuku midoriya (20), reader (19)

imagine incel!izuku who's obsessed with you, a promising new pro hero just barely debuting into the infancy of her career.

incel!izuku who, at first, isn't interested. you're another female pro hero, so what? he's rather partial to it; you're only really getting attention because you're a female. once everyone sees past the pretty face and nice thighs, you'll be irrelevant.

incel!izuku who falls in love after seeing one leaked picture of you pre-pro hero era, where you're makeup-less with messy hair and in pajamas. having been uploaded to one of the deep web forums he frequents, he expected an overwhelming amount of hate but, instead, everyone thinks you're even more attractive. izuku stares at the picture long and hard—actually, maybe he's beginning to see what they mean. he bookmarks it and revisits it often.

a few days later, it's his new lock screen.

incel!izuku who keeps a journal full of all the information he's gathered on you so far; from height and weight to your favorite food and color. he watches all your interviews and jots down the timestamps in which you do something cute—not that he doesn't just rewatch the whole thing later, anyway. he'll vehemently deny being a fan of yours because oh, you're not that cool, but at least you're cute! he can't possibly let people know how far into the rabbit hole he is, not a chance.

incel!izuku who begins scouring the internet, looking for erotica content about you to consume. sometimes he'll even write his own, pouring out his fetishized fantasies onto the notes app of his phone. how he'll tie you up and have his way with you—whether you want it or not—because a woman should always take responsibility for being so carelessly screwable!

he totally jacks off in a bathroom stall during break at work because he gets so turned on while scrolling through your pictures when he's supposed to be filing papers. he'll sigh in relief when he finishes all over his phone screen, which displays a picture of your face, before cleaning up his mess.

truthfully, izuku knows his growing obsession with you is unhealthy. but, but, he was the same with all might when he was a kid—there's no harm in looking up to a pro hero, is there? besides, you're a woman, so it's only natural your slutty, skin-tight pro hero outfits would give him such raging hard-ons when he doesn't want them to! aren't you ashamed of yourself, walking around in such tasteless outfits? if you were his wife, he'd never let you leave the house. ever.

incel!izuku who's such an avid fan that he collects everything that's you-themed. he buys all your limited edition merch: shirts, posters, trading cards, cups, body pillows. you don't even want to know how many he's had to replace from cutting holes in them and pretending they're you when he's horny. a huge portion of his salary now goes to catering his embarrassing addiction to you. you should be grateful for having such a loyal, loving fan, no?

as if reading his thoughts, your management team announces that you'll be having a fan meet-up. izuku is so ecstatic that he's among the first people to pre-order tickets the second they're released. he dreams about shaking your hand or even giving you a hug, and how your soft your body will feel against his. he can't wait to touch you and just be near you; he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

when the meet-up day rolls around, izuku queues up in the line and waits his turn to meet you. he's almost trembling by the time he reaches the table where you're sitting, smiling so adorably at the little kid that's rambling to you excitedly. the sight is precious—he wants that to be his kid one day.

a few minutes later, it's his turn. izuku walks up to the table, stiff as a board, and crouches down so he's eye-level with you. he's blushing intensely and your eye contact with him is making him feel so hot. you smile at him, and he begins to feel a touch light-headed.

"hi! thanks for coming," you reach out for a handshake. "so sorry the line's so long, we didn't expect so many people to come out!"

izuku can hardly speak. unsure of what to say, he simply nods and shakily reaches out to grab your hand, the anticipation almost sending him over the edge. and when your hands do finally intertwine, he immediately and unexpectedly gets a boner. a euphoric feeling runs through his body like lightning, striking his heart as if an arrow. seeing you in person is so much better than the pictures.

as you go to pull away, you can't. his grip is so tight that you literally have to wrench your hand away. he's staring at you with such a concentrated focus that you're not sure he's blinked even once since he came up to you. you're a bit weirded out now, so you try to end the meeting quickly.

"ah, well, uhm, what's your name?" you ask hesitantly, popping the cap off your marker so you can sign a poster for him.

did you just ask for his name? his name?

"i-it's i-i-izuku midoriya!" it comes out of his mouth in a shrill tone and it sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you.

"i-zu-ku... mi-do-ri-ya..." you repeat his name slowly as you sign both his name and your signature at the bottom of the poster.

each person gets five minutes with you. izuku doesn't say much. it's completely awkward for you when your questions go unanswered and you're instead being stared through with those jade green eyes of his. when five minutes is up, you wave goodbye and blow a complimentary kiss, as it's apart of your trademark. you literally couldn't wait for it to be over.

izuku doesn't take his eyes off of you until he's escorted out of the room by the staff. his heart is beating out of his chest right now; did that even really happen? did he actually touch you? it sinks in slowly but surely. he did! he touched you! your hand was so soft and fit so perfectly in his. like it was meant to be. and the way you looked at him? he resists the urge to palm himself through his jeans.

you're such a sweetheart, too. not like other low IQ women who just ignore him when he's trying to be nice to them; come on, you even asked for his name! you really are different from the rest. not to mention how good you smelled, it's a sure sign you know how to take care of yourself. he'll have to find out what perfume you use so he can spray it on his body pillows.

he just can't wait to go home and brag about it all on his online forums and the fan sites he's recently joined!

but first, the tightness in his pants is increasing to crazy levels of uncomfortable. he excuses himself to the bathroom to take care of it, still giddy from the fact he had just been face-to-face with you mere moments ago. as he unzips his pants and begins almost violently rubbing one out, he stares intently at the poster you had given him with bated breath and a gaze ripe with lust.

that's right, incel!izuku uses the hand you shook to jack off, just to cum all over the poster that you gave him. he's literally drooling as his fist is rocketing along his sensitive length, milking himself for all he's worth. shuddering in pleasure from his orgasm, he smiles dazedly at the poster of your face now slick and sticky with his semen.

what a bad girl, making him go to such lengths! making him so horny and needy with your alluring eyes and adorable smile! how dare you steal his heart and walk around looking the way you do, knowing he can't have you the way he wants. what a whore. you should be the one getting him off and making him feel good!

it's all your fault, darling. don't blame him when he breaks into your house while you're sleeping next.

#he's literally so ooc #yandere izuku x reader #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere mha #my hero academia x reader

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what-in-the-gloobie-glob · 7 months

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Heavy mw3 spoilers (tagging bc its only been a day since full access) soap/interactions characters had with soap

Before the rest of the post I just want to say that I am aware that news has been going around that the game ended up getting rushed due to activision pushing dates(?) Or whatever (idk I haven't read into it)

I have an actual problem with soap's death. And I mean, I feel like it might have been more acceptable for everyone (including die hard cod boys or whatever) if there was more purpose to it. Or even if it was just... more cinematic (?)

It was so lackluster, and I understand the whole "It's supposed to be realistic" but it's a game. The entire point of it is to be entertaining, it doesn't matter if it isn't realistic, because it's supposed to immerse and entertain the viewer,and catch their attention. This death... was not that. Infact it was any thing but that.

It didn't even feel like there was an out of game purpose for it. If it had been at the beginning of the game, at least then the game could have been "revenge" driven. You put it from anyone's pov and (without even making it gay) you could have an emotional drive for revenge. (Of course I AM going to make it gay because that who I am). And if it's kept at the end of the game they could just play up the cinematics a tiny bit, and boom, payer satisfaction. But nope

Now lets go back to if it was the beginning of the game. I'm only gonna focus of the remaining main 3 of the 141.

If soap died at the beginning, the game could be largely price's pov. And we already know in the original price saw soap as a son figure. So just copy+paste character dynamics, and oop, you've got a more immersive emotional connection that draws the players in. It gives the character (price) a motivation, which can also explain some of the OOC behaviors that are exhibited in the game. Because Price is supposed to be this confident, level-headed leader. And the entire game he feels off, unsure of his own decisions, and he makes decisions that arguably are illogical for someone of his rank to make.

Onto Gaz. He seemed too stoic, and cold for this game. If soap had died at the beginning, it could be explained by him being angry and vengeful, and shutting off his emotions. Think about it, he lost a fellow Sergent, whom he'd thought of as a brother. That does things to a person. But they didn't do that so we just got what feels to be an ooc gaz, with minimal interaction with soap who he called a brother. Now I realize that calling soap his brother could just be a term of endearment or whatever, but it anything it felt like a desperate grab to make a last connection between the player and the character by showing a "deeper" connection (which wasn't there). As a side note, when I say gaz feels ooc I mean that in mw it seemed (to me) that he thought about his actions more and their impacts. He didn't just follow orders blindly like a good little soldier, like in this movie. In mw he was more self-righteous (if that's the right word) and he seemed to care a lot more for how his actions would have an impact on the world/people that he was fighting for.

And then we have Ghost. And sorry to sound repetitive but the interactions with him and soap were lackluster. We can start with the fact that there was very little interaction between the two, much less than in mw2 obviously, but I just want to point out that it ALMOST feels like Shepherd had more screen time than the two did together (to me). I know that that isn't true but that's how it feels. And we have even less meaningful interactions. Sure we have ghost and soap interrogating milena but they didn't interact all that much, and we have SOME banter but not a lot. We also have ghost claiming soap to go with him before they drop onto the island, and them pairing up after the vidcall with Shepherd and graves. But that's basically it, aside from soap's death scene (not including the flashvack because they didn't really interact much/the same way). Also I don't know if anyone else felt like this but to me it felt like their banter/interactions were too stilted/formal for the level of acquaintance that they are. Especially after Las Almas, and the game implies that they have fallen into a routine of going on missions together since then, and their conversations/interactions don't feel like they're at that level of knowledge of eachother that they should be at.

I'm putting soap's actual death and aftermath here since I have misc. thoughts.

I want to point out the parallel between laswell and hew wife disapproval with smoking, and Ghost with johnny (i know it's veen pointed out before) but it basically confirms soapghost/ghoap

Also ive seen it pointed out that ghost checked soap's pulse to check if he was alive, even after he was shot in the head, he also pats soap chest like he's teying to confort him.

I also want to point out that at no point between soap dying and the bomb does ghost say anything about the bomb, nor does he go gelp gaz stop it. I get that the point is to force the player to stop the bomb, but they could have added it as a non-canon ending where he was too late or off time with gaz and thus the bomb still blew up. But no. He just says by soap's body the entire time...

Ghost was also apparently the one in possession of soap's ashes, AND the one to spread his ashes, which seems too intimate if activision was trying to stomp down ghoap.

Also I thought soap was catholic, so in my mind, I would have expected maybe a small (possibly unmarked) grave, instead of cremation (im not entirely sure on catholic funeral rituals, so don't come at me if this is wrong). And to me soap's character seemed like it should have been buried instead of cremated and forgotten to the wind (personal preference) but I think he should have had some spot on earth that was his to remember him.

And I'm not gonna say the ashes scene was lackluster, or rushed. Because it wasn't, but it did feel like it was an emotional grab. And it just felt off in general.

Ok that's all I have

#call of duty mw3 #mw3 spoilers #mwiii spoilers #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #mwiii #mw3 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #soapghost #ghostsoap

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just-antithings · 1 month

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I know I'm suffering from alarm fatigue and my suspicions are probably not true, but recently one of the webtoons I follow got discontinued by the artist who said on Twitter that they stopped specifically because they were supposedly harassed by proshippers that were demanding the more popular ship of 2 main characters (the protag and the antagonist) be made canon and they "spoiled" the ending twist revealing they are "literally blood siblings". Now I don't really see how this is "spoiling the whole story as punishment" given this webtoon is supposed to be a crime thriller about catching serial killers not a will they won't they romance thing. And like I figured out that twist ages ago at the beginning of the story because this ain't my first rodeo with this kind of story and there is a decent amount of forshadowing but that is what made me start shipping these 2 in the first place cuz I love fictional incest lol. I can however see that a probably decent majority of people even shipping these 2 likely had no idea. Which adds to my suspicions that if the author actually got harassed (Idk if they did but it's definitely horrible if they did), I'm wondering if they were actually harassed by antis because antis are usually the ones trying to harass others about ships. I'm also sus if they even were actually harassed at all or if they weren't blocking the right tags and making it everyone else's problem, or claiming the harassment when it was just people openly sharing their love of the series in their own spaces in their own way, or outright lying about the harassment because they wrote themselves into a corner they didn't know how to write it of and instead of just accepting some plot holes or whatever tried to deflect onto an easy target, or maybe they didn't get acceptance for a new season so decided to go the burn everything down route. Idk I'm just so used to experiencing harassment only from antis and antis then whenever someone says hey wtf stop is to claim they are the ones being harassed that I'm just sus of it all now. But regardless ever since the announcement and subsequent "spoiling" of their own series, the comment sections and tags are unbearably anti filled declaring the shippers evil and worse and I'm so freaking tired. I also wonder if this behavior will bite them in the toucas later considering they are a full time webtoon originals creator. I mean I know I probably won't be reading their next works since it's clear they might do this again and I'm not gonna trust them like that. I'm also bummed because the story and the characters were so interesting and promising and I was so excited to see where it was gonna go. But nope never getting the rest of the story because Twitter bs 😭.

Ugh what a mess

#mod erin #ask #just anti things #incest mention

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theabyssgazesalsointoyou · 9 months

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an incredibly personal rating of bmc ship names (ship names only, regardless of my feelings toward the ship itself)

boyf riends - 6/10. cute but so hard to tag. i think i saw backpack boyfriends being used back in the day that's a cute alternative

stagedorks - 9/10. a little basic but a classic it's cute

spicy bis - -5/10. this one is awful. makes zero sense, sounds atrocious, jeremy isn't even canonically bi. the other alternatives were even worse (i don't even wanna say it) but why use any of them when richjer exists

deere - 9/10. i fucking love it it's just their last names smashed together but it's fucking deere (dillinjer is a 4/10 because pronunciation-wise it's too similar to dillinger)

puppy love - 5/10. cute but straying a little into the tired 'jeremy is a furry' joke imo

expensive headphones - 3/10. idk it's just lazy and it's a common enough phrase for me to get violent whiplash when i encounter it in the wild

pins and patches - 5/10. super super cute but soooo niche like how is one supposed to figure this out???

upstage - 10/10. makes complete sense, simple and cute. love it.

playride - 10/10. basically same as above

dramatical theatre - 3/10. it took me so long to get this especially since none of chloe's other ship names involve the word 'drama' (to my knowledge at least??)

cinnabun - 0/10. none of y'all really gave a shit about jenna or christine and it shows

richjake - 10/10. look idc if it's 'boring' it's hilarious that these two out of all the characters got the most basic-ass shipname so ic of them (choosing to ignore arson bros which is a solid 0/10!)

arsonberry - -10/10. including all its other variants like fucking. hot dog. the only acceptable one is richbrooke. what's wrong with richbrooke anyway why are we not using that??

pupgrade - 2/10. just my personal opinion. like c'mon where's the effort

royal pains - 10/10. absolutely immaculate, captures their vibes perfectly. yes they are royal pains indeed.

pinkberry - 6/10. really cute and simple, fits the vibes but it's also the name of an already existing brand it's so hard to search for

iced tea - 7/10. there is a slight problem with searching but it's so clever and cute it makes up for it

gossip gals - 2/10. i always thought this would be more fitting for the smartphone hour girls' polyship??

boardwalk boys - 4/10. makes no sense but eh sounds cool lol

lesbihonest - -10/10. where do i even begin what does lesbihonest even have to do with the bmc girls. none of them are canonically lesbian. god i hate it so much this fandom really didn't care about the girls did they. if you named the boys' polyship boardwalk boys bc new jersey is famous for boardwalks or whatever then obviously the girls' polyship should be garden girls. bc y'know. nj the garden state?? it's literally right there oh my god i'm so salty about this one and i don't even ship it

#bmc #be more chill

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s0urfangs · 3 months

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I try so hard not to do this but i gotta rant. Regarding the last reblog, I do NOT think the lack of comments and such is 100% peoples fault. I honestly think a significant part of it is how app and website design combines with content culture.

I want, and need, an inbox that shows me original works people have posted so that I can rummage through it at my own pace and know I'm not missing anything I love. Deviantart was great for this. Sit down on an evening, go through stuff at your own pace, say hi!

Don't even get me started on how you can't save stuff easily on most sites to look back on let alone navigate your own profile easily. Pretty basic thing?? I can't even begin to count the amount of times I find an artist here, go to their blog and its like ah! Their art tag does not work, or they do not have a tag. There is no other website with a gallery of theirs? Scrolling through their blog is 90% reblogs? I have to give up. Again, it's NOT THEIR FAULT. This is not tumblr exclusive.

On all the popular apps and websites now, there's an endless and constantly expanding dashboard of reblogs and memes and maybe if you're lucky you might see some art or something you followed someone for. How are you supposed to keep up if you follow more than ten people?

"But you can turn notifications on!"

I have tried. I am not getting notified for every reblog, every post, at every time of day. It's such an intrusion, and I was missing important stuff irl from the sheer amount.

This is not the fault of people reblogging stuff! It's fun, and I love discovering new art! I also like a good meme ofc. It's the utter lack of organisation. Just a seperate (optional) tab is all it would take for a lot of sites to improve by a solid 50%

DO NOT TALK TO ME ABT TUMBLRS TABS THOSE THINGS DO NOT WORK . THEY ARE AN AFFRONT TO ANY GOD. ok thanks ily <3

Bluesky is doing well with this so far, with the option to disable seeing shares and comments in your dashboard at least. (As well as muting blogs if one of ur beloved mutuals becomes absolutely obsessed with idk, minecraft youtubers. WE ALL HAVE OUR LIMITS...)

It really just seems like a huge oversight in basic accessibility that's become normalised. I don't really scroll tumblr anymore- I can't manage. I miss a lot, and the stuff I don't- well, I've probably also been sucked into the content cycle trap and just TRYING to keep up. This means I don't really want to post much either.

"That's just how it's always been on tumblr" That's okay! I'm not saying people can't enjoy it that way. It's the fact every single popular app is doing it the same. It's HORRIBLE.

Hopefully that makes me feel better . Whew. Ofc I'm busy recently anyway, which is why I haven't dedicated time to trying to use new sites - I'd love to set up toyhouse properly but that's a huge undertaking, and have got a bsky sitting around. Waiting. It's hard to start new habits even if its just opening an app atm, but I'll post when I do so.

ALSO. ANOTHER OVERSIGHT:

SCROLLING = HAND HURT >:(

#i normally have so much self control here and just. shut up and ignore stuff #but at this point #i deserve to be unhinged about website and app design because what the FUCK IS THAT #how bad does every site have to be for discord to be a better social media #hOOIUHHH #rant for self care. it has been building for MONTHS. YEARS

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superfluouskeys · 7 months

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wip wednesday! (it is thursday)

Thank you so much @thevikingwoman for the tag!! As is becoming custom I am here to drop some nonsense from before school beat me with a stick. Idk how close ghost of you part 3 is to being done because I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up having a part 4 LOL, but here is the beginning!

I'm not gonna tag anyone rn bc I lack the brain capacity but pls feel free to share and pretend I tagged you! It's wip wednesday-thursday ♥

Moiraine always had a knack for compartmentalizing. She never thought much about it, really, it was just the way her mind worked. She was like her father, who could love his family one day and very nearly forget they existed the next, because he was so involved in his latest project that he had simply…tucked them safely away somewhere, to be loved properly at a more convenient time.

Anvaere’s mind does not work the same way, and nor did their mother’s. For them, Father’s occasional abandonment seeped into everything around it, the proverbial fruit of the poisonous tree. By their estimation, he did not get to love them one day and leave them the next, and in retrospect, Moiraine supposes she can understand that.

In practice it was rather miserable, though. Anvaere moped, while their mother made a hobby of building resentment.

Moiraine considers in passing that she’s doing a rather magnificent job of encompassing both of her family’s tried and true traditions in her misery, hiding herself away most of the time, but still managing to make the whole place intolerable when she is present.

It would be much easier, she thinks, if Lan would just leave her alone. Neither Verrin nor Adeleas has any desire for Moiraine’s company—and rightly so. They are perfectly happy to aid their sister in her time of need without demanding the wretched details. One doesn’t hear much about women being stilled, but then again, one doesn’t need to. The mention alone is chilling. They understand even without any comparable experience.

But Lan keeps on knocking at her door, keeps inviting her to meals, inviting her on walks, inviting her to do anything, anything at all, anything she wants, and she doesn’t know how to tell him that there is nothing she wants anymore, and there never can be.

She tells herself it is something of a relief to be free of the notion that she might set herself right again. It would have been a colossal waste of time. Better to be done with it now and move onto what is important. After all, she herself hardly matters. She let Rand go because she’d thought the matter was done with, but she realized quickly that it wasn’t, and now she needs to ascertain what will come next.

It’s something to occupy her mind, but there’s no joy in chasing down the mystery. Her days are filled with dead ends and tiresome visitors who overplay their hands. They misjudge Moiraine because the way to determine how much leverage one holds is to guess what the other person wants, what the other person cares for, and they do not understand that Moiraine wants nothing and cares for nothing.

In all their years traveling together, Lan has never once snapped at her like that. There was a time when it would have brought her a sick sort of delight. She used to try all the time to get a rise out of him, to make him lash out at her so she could feel justified cutting him off. She’d never had someone so steady in her life, and it confused and frightened her.

His outburst reaches her, in a way. She realizes she can’t go on like this hoping he’ll eventually stop trying. She resolves to leave under cover of night, hoping at least that he is angry enough with her not to notice her missing right away.

She hadn’t counted on three Fades. One, perhaps, if she were very unlucky. But Moiraine herself is not particularly important, and certainly not at the moment. She led the Dragon to the Eye of the World, yes, but it’s not as though the Dark didn’t get something out of that. By all accounts she should be less than nothing now. An Aes Sedai who cannot channel? Who has no Warder, no family, no friends left to look out for her?

With a terrible lurching sensation, suddenly Moiraine is in two places at once. She is here and not here, lying on the ground outside Verrin’s estate and back at the Eye of the World, and somehow, Lan has found her yet again. He finds her without the bond, without magic, without anything to guide him. Moiraine feels more than she’s felt in months. She feels angry, and relieved, and devastated. He can’t be here. They cannot keep doing this.

If Moiraine is still a target, then she has to get Lan away from her. She can’t keep him safe like this, and he’ll die trying to protect her because it’s what he’s sworn to do. She doesn’t know what she’s been doing up until now, hoping he’d tire of her coldness and drift away on his own. It was selfish of her. She didn’t want to strike the killing blow, make him really hate her, make the split impossible to reconcile.

But what would be really, unforgivably selfish would be to keep him around when she knows it will get him killed. It would be a senseless death, defending something that’s no longer worth the price.

Necessity doesn’t make the burden any easier to bear.

#exciting tag for writing things #well i was TRYING to figure out how i tag ghost of you #but i can't find it on my blog atm lol so #idk uhhhh #wheel of time #wheel of time fanfic #moiraine damodred #moiraine x lan #something like that right

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abluehappyface · 11 months

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Typing a touhou related thing here but I'm not tagging it because idk how to feel about it. This is like a weird au involving HecaJun but Wrong™ I guess. If you personally like it and tag it that's on you, but I don't know if this counts as "good to post" with touhou tags so eh.

Haunted

Breathe

Just breathe

But quietly of course

You don't want her to hear you.

...

Hecatia didn't know what had gotten into Junko, but she's angry, angrier than usual, which is really saying something. She's so angry that she's been quite literally been blinded by her fury, unable to see past the purple fox tailed light waves flowing from her eyes. Along with that, for some reason Hecatia couldn't shoot bullets. She was being chased by Junko in a hyper-aggitated state, and she had NO way to defend herself!

Her heart felt like it was going to explode from how bad her chest hurt. How long had she been running? For some reason she couldn't float either, just making it easier for Junko to try and catch her. She was breathing so heavily, yet there was never enough air. Between the running away and the sheer panic she felt, her whole body felt pained, suffocated, and weak. All of it felt sickening.

She didn't even know WHY Junko was chasing her, but that just made it scarier. Here she was, chasing you while fully furious, and she didn't know why or how to fix it. Talking to her wouldn't work, she already tried that. Did this involve Chang'e or something!? No, that didn't make sense, she would be chasing Chang'e if that were the case.

She didn't know where she was either. This place felt familiar, but she just couldn't figure out how. All she knew is that she needed to keep running so that Junko couldn't get her. The overbearing heat in this place would've caused her to stop a long time ago had she not been running on pure panic. All that mattered now was getting to that something she knew was there.

She was tripping over herself now, her body not being able to keep up anymore, it must've been hours at this point. No matter how many times she fell she HAD to get up again. She could feel Junko getting closer and closer, just mere seconds from getting too close. She knew she couldn't keep this up for much longer, but her brain just refused to let up. Everything was getting hazy now.

Dizziness was setting in and she wasn't running in a straight line anymore. The vision around the edges of her eyes were going dark. The pain was beginning to hurt too much. She couldn't take it. She fell down onto the surprisingly hot ground beneath her.

She knew Junko was slowly creeping towards her. She began with a slightly muffled laugh, her deep voice echoing all around this familiar yet dangerous place. She wanted to scream, to tell her not to hurt her, but all that came out were sharp, gasping breaths as she broke down into a frenzy of panicked tears. What was Junko going to do to her!? Junko began by grabbing her by the shoulders, lifting her off the ground, and started shaking Hecatia back and forth, laughing as she cried and squirmed as hard as she could.

...

"LADY HECATIA WAKE UP!"

Clownpiece was shaking Hecatia back and forth by the shoulders trying to get her to snap out of... whatever THIS was. At this point Hecatia was an unhealthy shade of pale, trembling REALLY hard, murmuring about something, breathing too hard, and she was really REALLY scared. It was as if Lady Hecatia was supposed to be waking up from a nightmare, but just couldn't wake up. All Clownpiece could do was keep trying to wake her, even if it felt pointless. Shaking her didn't seem to work either. Junko was in the other room dialing the number for Eientei. She was startled awake when she heard Hecatia crying, seemingly panicked. No matter how many times she tried to wake her up, she just couldn't, and now it's gotten worse. She wasn't so pale before, nor was she trembling like that, it looked like she could barely breathe! She began explaining the situation to Eirin on the other line. After that, all she could do was wait for the emergency services to show up. Was this a curse!? Something WORSE!? Junko was worried, but also angry, but not in her usual way. No, Junko was angry because of what was happening to Hecatia. It had nothing to do with Chang'e this time, and if it did she'd KILL her.

#bluey's writing #bluey's random stuff #bluey's shenanigans #bluey's hyperfixations #bluey's nonsense #bluey's miscellaneous posts #tw just in case #abluehappyface

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takami-takami · 10 months

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THANK U FOR THE TAG MWAH MWAH Was tagged by @aquadenks to rec some of my own fics so! Some author's notes too, spoiling the subtext lol but giving some behind the scenes info! I'm just gonna pick my favorites, not so much the ones I'd recommend.

For recomendations: Stray Dogs Will Crawl Home for sfw; How to Fix The Ache or Can't Help Myself for nsfw

My faves:

Nightmares. | angst, hurt/comfort

I wrote this to cope with the GRAGGGHH feeling after watching the Lady Nagant episode. Like I wrote this late as hell at night too in order to be normal. I like the way I wrote the panic, it was fun to try and tweak it to be more in character and make the body language and dialogue believable. I find his theme of corruption and being used by the hpsc and feeling shackled to be very interesting to explore. I had to write the boy being comforted for his past or I'd die.

I Think I Love You. | fluff

The cutest fic I ever wrote. Pure good feelings. I genuinely love this one, I think it's adorable and head-over-heels!Keigo is my weak spot. I giggled so hard to myself when I wrote about the platonic kiss to ground himself. He's so cute. Fuzzy feelings. Happy happy happy.

Happy Birthday. | angst

Pure angst. PURE angst.

I had this in my notes for a long while, actually, and had the idea in my head for longer. It's a catharsis piece, very personal. Whenever I would have a moment related to a Thing, I'd pull out my notes app and work on this and just vomit my feelings onto the page. I still remember stopping in the middle of grabbing groceries and pulling out my phone to type the "what did you make me do" part as soon as I thought of it. Typing outside on my phone like a madman. Very therapeutic. Even though it's my least popular fic (probably because of the subject matter and lack of x reader) it means a tremendous deal to me.

How To Fix The Ache. | smut

The smut fic of the bunch— HEAR ME OUT, this is one of my favorite smut fics so I picked it as a representative (My other favs are Crybaby, Accidents, and Sweet, Sweet Indulgence. Not including the mini drabbles. I can answer which of those I like if anyone's curious!). So I'm putting it here. KEIGO YANKING IT MY BELOVED!! I like the pacing here, the tension building, the payoff at the end where he mcLoses it. Sexually frustrated virgin mess Keigo :(((((.

A Dog Unfed. | angst, hurt/comfort

This is my most recent fic but also another favorite of mine! Literally helped me so bad to write this. Do not know where I would be if I didn't write it. I feel like, I honestly didn't want to turn this into a fanfic at first. It was just supposed to be a thing for only me to see about how I'm feeling because the feeling was overwhelming; but I wanted to share it, so I turned it into a thing with Hawks (which also helped a ton)! I think you can tell, at least in the beginning part. I break the fourth wall at the end a little which I thought was cool but definitely was worried about doing. I let go of a lot of inhibitions and a desire to Appeal to Others when writing this one. Like I told myself when I was writing over and over, "all my writings are mine but this one is Mine." Very special place in my heart. <3

But my FAVORITE fic is still being written. Idk when it will be finished though, it's a big one— I don't like posting chapter by chapter, so I'm just gonna finish all the chapters first and then slam it onto the table hopefully.

Tagging ANYONE steal this. :3

#okay now i will go play pikmin #🐇 rambles #emeto

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wisconsin2002 · 10 months

Text

Mmmm.. Idk what to tag this as. I mean I'm not fuming at the mouth in this one with my opinions but there could be some pretty strong ones and god knows how the fandom takes those so I guess I'll just tag it in the salt just to be safe and if all goes well I'll tag it in the awakening tag.

Anyways..

Miraculous Awakening...

I liked it. I thought it was decent. I'm not crazy in love with it tho and I can see why people don't like it and are mixed on it for sure. It does feel pretty bland and the pacing is GOTTA GO FAST up in this bitch so you don't really get a lot of moments to breathe and take in what's happening, other than when they're singing.

But anyways. I want to talk about Marinette/ladybug because wow. Man I loved her character in this movie.

I loved that we got to see her weaknesses and strengths. The movie did fast forward a lot of her growth with its Sonic pacing which was a bummer but what we did get to see of her in my opinion did not dissapoint. I also loved that her character is not just solely based on Adrien or Chat Noir. She has dreams again like she did in the beginning of the canon show. She wants to be confident, brave, open to herself and to the world, but she's so shy and scared and clumsy so she doesn't see herself capable of reaching that part of herself in her life and I think that part of her especially with me is what made me connect with her so much more. Seeing where she started and where she ends at the end of the movie is what made me love her as a character and connect to her on a personal level. Seeing Marinette hurt and bruised and losing a fight but still getting back up to finish the fight without Powers is something I have wanted to see FOR THE LONGEST TIME DUDE.

And I've heard people say that this movie feels like fanfic and yeah I can't even lie. There's points where it actually does😂

Like Hawk moth suddenly turning into Darth vader and FUCKING FORCE CHOKING ADRIEN💀

And Plag shitting himself everytime he's on screen for whatever reason.

Genuinely.... Why Zag? I need answers.

But this doesn't. Not this. This feels like what was supposed to be from the beginning. This feels like ladybug again. The ladybug that I don't get frustrated with her character decisions and direction. A ladybug that feels grounded in her objective and doesn't feel over the top lost in romance and boyfriends. A ladybug that truly appreciated her partner. A ladybug who took the responsibility of a hero seriously.

This movie is not perfect, not by any means. It's corny as shit and it's barely even good at times.

However, it brought back a lost hero in my eyes and I gotta applaud ZAG for that.

I've said this before but ladybug/Marinette was once my favorite character in miraculous and I really missed talking about her without being an asshole.

#ml salt #miraculous awakening

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