#imitating has gotten so insanely hard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

insanityisdivine · 3 months

Text

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

Thanks for the tag @starry-eyed-never-satisfied

1. Who is your favourite member?

Okay. Paul is my first love but sexy Ace is competing with him but god I have to say Paul.

2. Who is your least favourite member?

Everyone saying Mark. I know nothing bout him

3. Best album?

RARO ...I'm assuming studio albums and live albums don't count???

4. Worst album?

I didn't listen to their last two albums and have no intention to do so ATM

5. Favourite song?

THIS IS TOO HARD TO CHOOSE. Guess I gotta say Love Gun Though But I love C'mon and Love Me!

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Paul- He's the STAR of KISS. I probably wouldn't have gotten into KISS if it weren't for him. Everything I adore and want to be

Gene- I wanna listen to him talk while we share milk and chocolate chip cookies together

Peter- I have a soft spot for him. I think he can be really sweet and cute

Ace- Sexy, trashy, baby girl, sexy girl in hooker boots. Wanna bend over and smack that ass. He and Paul are my bisexual fantasies. BUT SERIOUSLY, The first guitar player that made me go WOW. Never got the hype about lead guitarists before but then I was thinking of 80s rock and 80's rock solos never resonated with me. His solos are iconic, not just shredding/mindless noodling. As someone who never learned how to read music, I think it's amazing he influenced many to learn. I'd love to learn how to play. Not to be in a band but I've always wanted to play a guitar. Also, I'd love to hang out with him. He's funny and bright. I think there's softness to him and I'd like to believe (coming from a fan, of course) that he's a good person. He also reminds me of my ex early 90s era....so I guess I have a soft spot for him

Eric C- I wish I could meet him. If I had to pick one member I could meet it would be him because I know he'd be super sweet

Vinnie- talented songwriter and amazing voice. Gorgeous

Mark- He did his job on Animalize

Bruce- Super sweet. He was the cutie of the group during revenge era ngl. Paul had competition.

Eric S- Seems really funny. got a nice tight body. seems every KISS drummer has a nice bod.

Tommy- Loyal and hard working. I can see why KISS kept him. Honestly he'd the kind of guy you want in your group.

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Condescending. I can see he has some views on things that I'd butt heads with him on

Paul- Overly critical of others, may come across cold. He scares me. y'all see his posts for new years???? He can come across very hurtful in his choice of words

Peter- Bitter (in the past it seems) and tbh some of the shit I read and heard that unfortunately was allowed to slide (sometimes even passed off as "funny" stories). It's a sensitive topic for me.

Ace- like Peter, awful things said and done that cannot be solely blamed on addiction which I'm very glad he recovered from btw. I'm honestly glad I never put this man on a pedestal and it's not just because "he's human like the rest of us". lol I love him but I'm glad I've been exposed to the bad early on this obsession so I don't have any unrealistic ideas about ppl, you know? I think I need to sleep with him to sort out these feelings lol

Eric C- I don't know that much to comment and feels almost unfair because he was taken away from us much too soon

Vinnie- stop scamming people omg. the insanity and charging ppl for memberships and you haven't released shit???

Mark- don't know about him. can't comment

Bruce- Maybe too nice for his own good.

Eric S- I don't know. Should have created a sex tape with Gene

Tommy- Kinda weird seeing him try to mimic Ace's facial expressions. One thing to imitate solos and his space persona but his mannerisms? I dunno just weird to see someone mimic what Ace's face naturally does? Kissy pouty lips only work for Ace

8. How did you get into KISS?

years ago, just bombarded with their imagery and sound on TV shows

9. Have you been to a concert?

Their last show. Crushing, I know

10. Do you have any merch?

I have a shirt

11. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

None, sadly. Like I have nothing solid if that's what you mean. anything that may have in common? sure but feels too personal to share here

12. Who is/are your favourite lineup?

This is hard because early 90s KISS was TIGHT. but I'll always love the original 4, but sweet Foxy and Brucie is so precious

13. What's your favourite era?

FUCCKKK....see this is hard. I have a big soft spot for Dynasty/Unmasked but I also love DTK and HTH

14. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

They did their job. If they hadn't stepped in I wouldn't have seen KISS final show and for that I am grateful. I enjoyed their participation.

15. A question you would ask the band if you could?

I'd ask if I could suck their dick. That's tough. What haven't they've been asked before? Honestly I got some questions for Ace that's been bugging me and I know I'd never get them answered unless I knew him personally and had a real heart-to-heart conversion. I dunno I can only go off from a fan's perspective about how that'll go

16. What other bands/artists are you into?

Led Zeppelin, Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga, Stromae, used to really like Adam Ant, The Sweet, OLP, Franz Ferdinand, Daft Punk. I listen to all kinds of genres and artists so I like what I like

17. Do you have a KISSona?

Don't have one. I'm assuming like a fursona? lol

18. Who are some of your favourite blogs?

@ladyshandioftheendless @elrohare @silverstarfoxx (thank you for tolerating all my pestering! never hesitate to reach out to me for more Ace goodies!) @notpaulsguitar @ohblackdiamond (though tbh I swear you have answered this lol) @space-frehley-22 @spacefoxy (resident eric carr connoisseur) @speckster (you have crazy ass edits) and same goes for @bangbangyou love your funny memes. the IP address as a response always gets me lol @starry-eyed-never-satisfied (you already did this but adding you here anyway fellow Paulie enjoyer!) There's many more I wish I could just mass tag KISS blogs lol. There are blogs that are no longer active but I am glad they are still around

19. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Hard because I love Paul but he scares me. I think I'd need more than a day to get comfortable with him. I'd love to spend a day with Eric C or Bruce because they seem the nicest. Maybe I'd love to hang with Peter now. Gene, may be fun. He's a good talker. Though it be fun to get one-on-one time with Ace. I'd love a tour of all his tech and then we can compare and just geek out on technology.

20. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

I don't know. Honestly the other people who answered this already gave greats explanations. So many pass judgment on them without giving them a chance. They're a one-of-a-kind experience. There will never be a band like them.

#mykissposts #kiss #kiss ramblings #sorry if you didn't like my answers #tried not to put my true personal feelings because I enjoy this space a lot. I trimmed down my responses to keep it vague as possible #The only true fandom space for me tbh #I just come here to share my love for KISS #you will still see me posts silly dumb shit because I can't get enough lol #so yeah pls don't come at me trying to “defend” anybody i mean no harm and i love these guys lol

6 notes · View notes

yooniesim · 11 months

Note

I think one of the things that makes it so hard to find new creators (that are free) is how insular paywall/early access cc creators are. I literally can't remember the last time any of them used their massive platforms to support newer creators and they only seem to reblog content that features their own stuff or other creators they're close with. They are literally only concerned about their "brand" instead of actually participating in the community that provides them with their livelihoods. If you're looking for content, you're going directly to these creators first and maybe you'll look through finds blogs if you're more invested. To a point, I understand that's how popularity works, but they could be doing so much more.

Plus, since the early access model is so popular, I do think there's a push for new creators to switch to that. You get an initial burst of engagement when you first post and then another when your content is free, instead of just posting once and getting what you get. Also, I do think there's an unspoken rule that "early access creator" = "professional". So, if you want to be taken seriously, you'll imitate what the "professionals" are doing.

I'm sorry you're discouraged trying to find new creators. It's actually insane how much damage the popularity of paywalling has done to this community.

Hey nonny, thanks for sending this and also for your sympathy! I agree with everything you said, and I'm just gonna ramble a bit in a semi related way.

I think the point you made about professionalism is especially poignant. Creating cc is less a hobby now and more a setup for your own "business". But in this marketplace, there are no standards or regulation whatsoever- and many people here are just bad at what they do in various ways. It seems as if they either have the aesthetic & business model down, but are terrible to their customers and/or make terrible product, or they make a good product but can't quite grasp how to play the "game" to work the system to its full advantage. Sometimes you get people bad at all of it, yet they still charge. Because the only consistent thing about this community at the moment is that everything absolutely has to have a price, no matter how shitty it is. And there's absolutely zero consequence for being a gigantic douche nozzle.

This is a mostly disconnected side note, but when I think about these creators, it's just unbelievably depressing. I have thought about what it would be like to try early access a few times over the years, and honestly even the thought gave me such a burst of anxiety I immediately dismissed it. Just releasing cc for free is sometimes an anxious feeling for me, I just can't imagine having to base a business around it. The thought of possibly disappointing people and not consistently providing a quality product that is worth their money is a shameful thought for me. I have gotten a few $1 donations to my patreon over the years and even then i feel bad for not being able to create cc for a while because of my mental health, and not being better at cc making in general. And yet there's people that provide the most lazy, shit items I've ever seen without blinking. Stuff they never tested that doesn't work in game, two second conversions, no hat chops, no lods, gigantic poly, etc. They don't even know how to make cc and admit to that but still charge. I think I would die of shame. I'm sitting here thinking about, do they feel guilt over it, in the back of their mind? Does the stress and the anxiety gnaw at them like it does me? Even just uploading to curseforge for me, causes a bit of anxiety, even though no one pays for it directly. But CF is just another tool to be used to most- now people use patreon, but once its unlocked, the download link leads to CF so they can double dip. So it must not be bothersome to them at all. It's difficult for me to wrap my head around.

...I've gotten so far off track, again. Here's the part where I re-read your ask and try to get back on topic lol. Sorry, my mind runs a lot these days.

I'm glad you mentioned the part about how insular paywallers are. But I think there's even more to this than just popularity. They do not break from their circle, except in the very rare case someone new becomes very popular and they want to do a boring collab with them, and even then it seems limited. I'm pretty sure they have a server (or multiple) where they share people's urls for the purposes of chain blocking them. They also, without a doubt, share people's personal info to one another in order to ban their accounts from their patreons (at the very least). I have witnessed this multiple times. There are several doxxing rings besides the ones that were exposed, at least one exclusive to early access creators. They don't allow new people in/trust others easily because of this. This is why I don't trust paywallers as a rule; not because I think custom content should never be monetized under any circumstances, but because the lack of standardization and consequences for privacy violations makes it unsafe.

I've read through your ask again, and it made me think of something else, so bear with me haha. But the point about how you find newer creators, and how some will go to finds blogs. The fact of the matter is that popular finds blogs have the potential to be compromised as well. I have been blocked by mmccworld ever since EA temporarily banned paywalling and I reblogged a post that had a list of people intending to continue paywalling after that, and they happened to be on that list. They were one of the more popular finds blogs in the community, but I obviously won't be reblogged by them like I was in the past. Now, this isn't that relevant anymore since they're definitely not as highly regarded as they once were, but think about tumblr's lack of algorithm & what you said about how people find newer creators. If you aren't reblogged, you aren't found. And it makes me wonder how many other creators are blocked at a finds blog's discretion. I mean, this isn't necessarily a bad thing; you can filter people how you like, for example I don't reblog from paywallers on mine, or known bigots etc. But it's something to think about, and I think is a smaller example of how simblr works. If you don't play the game and fall in line, if you question the wrong person, you won't get exposure. And to most, in our current system, exposure equals money. Of course you're going to toe the line- no one wants to be publicly shamed, or worse, have a drop in potential income.

This has gone on far, far too long, so let me stop lol. But thanks again for sending this and allowing me to ramble in response, nonny... not that you had a choice 🤣

#asks #anonymous #ceci speaks #negative #the patreon issue #ceci speaks a lot more #long post #nonny complaints

21 notes · View notes

unoscraft · 1 year

Text

My God, She’s Insane!

Written by Miyuki Watanabe

“What do you mean the world is ending?” Lily Belle was in shock as she read her letter.

“My boss? Out of all the people who would start the apocalypse, it’d be my boss? And I thought

she was the good one.” She didn’t understand what was happening. She had just gotten off work.

“My dearest angels,” she read the letter again, aloud this time. “It has been a pleasure to

guide you all. I know how hard it is to take care of the humans, I have been doing it for hundreds

of thousands of years. However, watching them daily with their ‘peaceful’ activities have gotten

boring. Which is why in three days, I shall do some experiments. Unnatural disasters will be

naturally happening. Acid rain will happen first. The next event is to be announced. This would

mean the work you do now in heaven shall be changed accordingly to their needs. You may use

this chance as an opportunity for a promotion.”

“She’s lost her mind. She has definitely lost her mind! I’m still new here. I’m already so

tired!” Lily was frantic. She searched for her list of addresses. “I need to go to her!”

Lily Belle was content with her job in heaven. She was a mere errand runner but, oh, did

she get tired already. She did not want to lose her job. Not before, and certainly not now. She

sprinted, sprinted so fast outside. Still, she could hear her fellow angels’ negative murmurs about

the new decisions. She was out of breath when she got to an elevator.

“Hell,” she panted, “I’m going to literal hell.” The elevator descended down to the said

place. Once again, she sprinted, looking for someone. “Lucille! Where in hell are you?”

“Lily? You’re in hell. Why are you— I’m working here! I need to impress my boss!” was

the first thing Lucille, a demon in training said to her.

“And my boss is planning to kill the humans!” Lily dragged her old friend back to the

elevator.

“Big boss man upstairs is planning to what?”

“Big boss lady upstairs is planning an extinction!”

As they were going up to heaven again, Lily was almost rapping with how fast she was

talking to Lucille. A combination of complaints said along the way with her summary. Lucille,

however, was just glad to see her old friend again.

“Alright, alright. Okay, Lily, okay. Calm down. So what I’m understanding is that God

got bored and decided to play The Sims 4 on humans. Is that right?”

“What’s The Sims 4?”

“It’s a game the humans made. Life imitates art.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Whatever. Let’s just find a way to stop this. You know I hate unjust punishment.” It was

the truth. Lucille didn’t like the decision. Not because she cared for the humans, but because she

only wants the ones “worthy” of punishment to be punished. A fine demon she’ll become indeed.

There they spent the last three days holed up in Lily’s home, coming up with ideas on

how they’d be able to stop what’s about to happen. It was just them, their thoughts, and delivery

food. Lucille missed her a lot. It was time she told Lily something.

“Lily, you know, if we, uh, die because of this, I just want you to know that—“

“Luci, we’re not going to die. You’re being ridiculous! The plan is perfect. I’m sure of

it!”

The plan was far from perfect.

What Lily oversaw was a slight miscalculation in the schedules. She thought God would

release the rain after three days, not on the third day.

My God, she’s insane. It was the only sentence that ran through Lily’s head over and over

as a big cloud covered Asia.

“What now? Do we go down there?” Lucille didn’t blame Lily. She was always clumsy.

“The reason why I wanted to stop this is because I don’t want more work on my

shoulders. If we go down there, then what’s the point even? That’s more work.” Lily was

sulking, she wanted to quit.

“Well, I’m going down there with or without you. I don’t want another scenario like that

again.”

“Oh, That.” Lily sighed. The specific “that” they were referring to was the time when all

hell broke loose. Literally all hell broke loose. It was not a good sight for angels, humans, and

certainly demons, watch Satan escape from his cage and send a meteor to Earth.

“It was funny, though.” She tried to hide her chuckles.

“Lily, nothing was funny. I’m a demon and it was horrifying. Are you sure you’re an

angel?”

“We both know I didn’t choose to be an angel. But you’re right. Let’s go down there and

save who we can.”

With that, they both talked for a little bit again. Brainstorming for ideas on how to save as

much people as possible. They started in Japan, and stayed there for a few months. It was a

pitiful sight to see them build small communities, trying to bring back normalcy, only to see

hope disappear from their eyes once trees catch fire from the inside out. Whenever they seem to

get back on their feet, a new disaster comes. It was a never ending cycle. Lily turned her back

from her God, now with a new purpose. She couldn’t understand how a being so loving turn into

a monster.

Lily Belle and Lucille stayed on Earth. Gone are their old jobs. They’re what the humans

call the “new protectors.” The angels in heaven do little to nothing. They’ve gotten closer over

the past few months. Some close experiences with death here and there, but it’s nothing they two

can’t handle.

It was night, and for once, quiet, safe.

“Seems like no one wants that promotion.” Lucille laughs, enjoying the little peace they

have as of the moment.

“We were all underpaid anyways. Here is better.”

“Yeah? It better be.”

#MiyukiWatanabe #FlashFiction

2 notes · View notes

starlingsrps · 4 months

Text

come go with me.

eliza is pretty sure she hates her best friend.

carol peterson thinks they’re the best of friends and it may have been true three years ago but there’s a lot of distance between then and now. carol’s family had moved from the block to some ritzy subdivision and she seemed to think that made her some kind of hot shot. eliza’s brother had been killed in korea the year before, a loss that neither of them had really been prepared to handle so she guessed she couldn’t hold it against her too much. carol had gotten a boyfriend first while eliza’s parents cracked down on rules right around then and her growth spurt had sealed her fate as a pitiful giantess in carol's eyes.

she’s five foot seven now and carol is a dainty five foot one and eliza feels every single last one of those inches as they sit on the school bleachers at the spring dance. eliza stretches out and carol tries to mimic the pose but her feet stop at eliza’s knees. she feels like some kind of freak and she hates it. she’s sick of carol talking down to her because she’s not allowed to date or isn’t supposed to wear lipstick (she does, keeping a tube of revlon in locker and scrubbing it off before she goes home).

from up by her ear, carol heaves an enormous sigh. “there are no boys tonight.”

“there are,” eliza responds, drumming her fingers on the worn wood. “you’ve just turned them all down.”

“no i haven’t.”

eliza sits up straight and starts pointing. “too short, smells like a sausage factory - whatever that means, red hair, clammy hands, fast hands, too short, too short, and has a weird nose mole. i miss anyone?”

carols pouts in a way she knows boys find adorable. eliza has watched her practice that pout in the mirror and failed to imitate it even with instructions and hates that too. “well, maybe i’m holding out.”

“for who?” eliza asks, voice flat as she waits for the answer that she knows is coming.

there it is, the little sigh that heralds “indigo arm-“

eliza rolls her eyes and snorts. “absolutely not.”

indigo armstrong transferred to central in late fall, coincidentally moving into the peterson’s old place. he’s been an object of speculation and rumor since day one and carol, newly single, set her sights on him immediately. it’s march though and she’s gotten nowhere. mostly because carol thinks it’s rude and unladylike to approach a boy first which is why eliza thinks she’ll be waiting for him to approach her first forever.

he rides the same city bus she does in the mornings but not in the afternoons and he’s always reading. he doesn’t really talk very much - at least not on the bus. there’s always a paperback shoved in his back pocket or in his bag and as soon as he pays his fare, he reads from the second the bus moves until it stops at school. never anything normal either - weird stuff like salinger and science fiction. he has a poetry book one day and she about falls out of her seat. she’s never seen a boy read poetry without a gun to his head in english class.

it’s not like she doesn’t get it. he’s very cute with mile long eyelashes and is one of the few boys in school she doesn’t feel like she should bend her knees to stand next to. he seems polite when he does talk and he has enough friends to clearly not be deranged but keeps to himself just enough to keep an air of mystery that drives carol insane. she thinks he looks like marlon brando which just makes eliza wonder if she's blind as well as stupid.

“why not?” carol asks for the hundredth time.

“have you ever spoken to him?” eliza asks. “like, even once?”

“three times! he asked if had a pencil, i said excuse me in the library once, and he helped me open my locker once and said no problem.”

“wow, you two are really going steady.”

“shut up!” carol squeals with a half hearted slap at eliza’s shoulder. “it’s called playing hard to get!”

“you play any harder and you’re going to die on these bleachers with me.” in an instant, she realizes that she probably will die on these damn bleachers with carol if she keeps copying her. she's not coy, she's direct. blunt, if you listen to her parents, but she gets a lot more done by asking for what she wants than standing around waiting for it to be offered. she stands, straightening out the hem of her dress. “well if you’re not going to talk to him…”

carol gasps. “you wouldn’t! you can’t just talk to him!”

“why not? he’s just a boy.” she bares her teeth. “do i have any lipstick on my teeth?”

“no but-“

“no buts,” she gives a last fluff of her skirt. “he’s too tall for you.”

she doesn’t give carol time to respond before making her way down the bleachers to the gym floor. after a brief moment of doubt she taps him on the shoulder and doesn’t give herself time to hesitate when he turns.

“eliza,” she says, thrusting her hand at him. “we have the same study hall.”

he looks at her hand warily and then shakes it. “uh, indigo. you ride my bus.”

she laughs. “it was my bus first.”

“fair enough.” he has a great smile and doesn’t have to raise his chin to talk to her. he’d dwarf carol. really, this is kinder. “how was tramp girl?”

“tramp girl…” after a moments confusion, she laughs. it had been her bus book the week before, one of the dime store novels she buys on the way to school and smuggles in her history book. “oh. well, i can tell you here or we can dance and i can tell you.”

he gives the dance floor a skeptical look. “i’m pretty terrible.”

“i’m pretty great,” she says with a bright smile. his widens a bit and she feels a little flutter. “so we should even out.”

he laughs and offers his hand. “lead the way.”

#type: writing #s: eliza x indigo #[whispers] i wrote this last year and found it on my drive i can't remember if anyone else has seen it #regardless i fluffed it and here we are #(tramp girl is a real book btw)

1 note · View note

sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Fire and Darkness Chapter 9

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1253

Summary: The Alina Situation.

“She’s real.”

Even moments after hearing those words, you knew that they would haunt you. “What?”

Aleksander had returned to your shared tent just moments after having the apparent Sun Summoner packed into a carriage with Ivan and Fedyor to be shipped to the Little Palace, only to immediately start changing into clothes more suitable for hard riding. “Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner, she’s the real thing. We can finally move our plans into effect.”

You crossed your arms. “Which version?”

His hands stilled on the laces to his pants, those dark eyes drifted up to yours. “She’s young.” There was a pause. “And alone, now that we’ve taken her away from her unit.”

“You’ll be making her fall in love with you, then,” you stated, displeasure clear in your tone.

“It’ll likely be the easiest course, yes.”

“I once told you that if you ever tried to woo another, I would kill you.”

His eyes softened in the face of the undisguised jealousy coloring your features. As soon as his pants were properly fastened, he swept over to you to hold your face in his palms. “I could never replace you, dearheart. This will not change that.”

Your fingers came up to trace the shape of the ring he’d used to cut Alina just minutes earlier. Your wedding gift to him when you’d married hundreds of years ago under starry skies, the match to the one around your own thumb. “It had better not, Sasha, or I will ruin everything we’ve worked to build.” A tongue of flame danced at your fingertips, the fact that it didn’t burn him was a testament to the fine control you’d developed. “Remember that you aren’t the only one who can use merzost.”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “As if I could ever forget.” He kissed your forehead then your lips. “You’ll be travelling back by carriage tonight; I’ve already arranged it. I’ll see you back home tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Go. Make sure the little Sun Summoner doesn’t die in transit.”

You woke alone. Not an uncommon occurrence, but it was something you’d never come to enjoy. Reaching over to his side of the bed, you found it still warm; you’d just missed him. Blearily, you lifted your head and saw the telling glow of a lamp lit out in the war room.

Then you heard the voices. Soft, murmuring voices drifting in through the open door that could only belong to Aleksander and Alina. Instantly, your mood soured. You’d expected to at least hear rumors of their fictitious relationship spreading around the palace, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that you might be forced to listen to it. Quietly, you slunk to your feet, tugging a black robe around your shoulders as you neared the door,--one of Sasha’s, he’d always gotten a rise when seeing you in his clothes--and lurked there in the shadows.

They were standing close. Far closer than you’d ever be comfortable with. He had a hand on her cheek as he told her about some of the hardship he’d been through as a boy. They were pale imitations of the truth since grisha wouldn’t have been actively hunted in the boyhood of a man that looked as young as Aleksander; you’d held him through the nightmares about the real instances.

Then his grey eyes flicked over to you, acknowledging your presence. That was when you could see how guarded his expression was; it soothed you to see the lack of emotion in his gaze. You hadn’t doubted him, but it was still a balm to your frayed nerves to know that this was, indeed, a farce. It was just a split second of reassurance yet it made all the difference. Moments later, the little spell between he and Alina was over, the play concluded for one more night, and she slipped back out the door.

Your feet carried you to where she’d just been standing without your conscious decision to move there.

“I’m--”

“Don’t,” you shushed him as you tugged him down into a heated kiss. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to acknowledge that you had witnessed the man you love make another woman fall for him. Right now, you just wanted to feel him and nothing more.

“You’re insane!” Alina accused in the face of Baghra’s accusations of Aleksander.

“Am I?” With a wave of the old woman’s hand, the room was briefly plunged into darkness.

Alina’s heart stuttered. Horrible realization dawned on her. “You’re his mother.”

She nodded solemnly. “And he is not the man you believe him to be.”

“But--” But he loves me, her heart longed for her to protest. But if he lied about being ancient, about being the Black Heretic of all people, how could she know if what she’d felt was real.

The old woman swept around her to yank off the blanket that’d been covering a painting that looked like Aleksander’s ancestor. The eye color, hair color, and regal appearance were all the same, but things like the shape of those eyes, the hair cut, and the structure of his jaw were all different enough in the painting that it could have been someone else. Then again, he’d have to have himself tailored if he expected to be able to pretend to be someone else.

“This is him as he looked three hundred years ago,” Baghra informed her. “Unfortunately for you, I doubt you’ve received the worst news yet--at least as far as a child would be concerned, it wouldn’t be the worst.”

“He’s a monster! What else could there be?!”

“He and I separated because of a girl during what was still his first life; he was young and impulsive not unlike yourself. It was centuries before he found me and moved me here to keep an eye on me yet she was still with him. Married in one life or another some life along the way.”

“Married?” She gasped, realizing the implication. “You mean . . .”

“He never harbored any affection for you, child. All of it, absolutely all of it, was a ploy.”

Alina felt like her heart was tearing in half. “How could this girl still be alive?”

“Our power is what keeps my son and I from aging. She is an inferni, something that would not let her live this long as you’ve seen. Merzost is what he used to create the Fold.” She hesitated. “Somehow, he has used merzost to link her life to his.”

“Then where is she? Why have I never seen her?”

“You have. The housekeeper. The only one he lets near him when he’s vulnerable. The only one that is allowed in his bedchamber.”

Alina stared, mind busy trying to conjure what exactly this woman had looked like since she’d only laid eyes on her in passing. Distantly, she recalled thinking she saw a feminine shape in his bedroom doorway the night she’d spoken to him.

“I am sorry, girl; I thought I would have more time to prepare you. You must go before he realizes you are gone,” Baghra hurried her along.

As soon as their forms were gone from the little underground room, you stepped out from the shadows. You lifted a hand so you could better see the old painting. “Well,” you muttered, “he’s certainly not going to be happy about this.” Then you were gone, disappearing in the tunnels to warn your husband about the meeting you’d just witnessed.

#the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #reader insert #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #inferni au

121 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Help from the help

Narrator, do you have a thing for these sorts of power dynamics mayhaps? Do you maybe want to get railed by Illumi while you’re his maid? Yes. Yes I do.

cw: I dunno, maids? Illumi being awkward maybe?

In total, you'd seen Illumi Zoldyck maybe five times during your time as a temporary maid for his family. Three times when you'd cleared dinner dishes, once when it had been your turn to clean his wing, so you'd been making his bed and he'd come in and ordered you to not forget to clean his bathroom too, and once when you had been putting a load of laundry into the washer and turned around to find the tall, dark-eyed assassin so close you actually ran into him a bit, he'd apparently come in to try and find out if a piece of clothing had been washed. Aside from those times, you'd hardly seen him. Despite these sparse encounters, you were rather smitten with him almost from the first time. It wasn't like he was insanely better looking than any other Zoldyck, Kikyo was very pretty, Silva was nowhere near the worst to look at, even Milluki had his charms and wasn't hard on the eyes, but something about the doll-like assassin drew you in more than the rest. Probably the unattainable aspect you mused to yourself one day as you made your way upstairs with a laundry basket full of cleaning supplies, heading to clean said son's wing of the home today. Or maybe I just have a thing for men with long hair, you continued as you went, finding the upstairs cleaning closet and fetching the vacuum as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You were spacing out pretty hard, just mulling over all of what you found attractive about Illumi, entertaining yourself with ranking which Zoldyck you'd date before the rest, stuff like that while you worked, so you didn't notice until you'd turned the corner at the end of the hall leading into Illumi's wing that you had that static-y, fuzzy feeling his aura left you with creeping up your spine. Confused, you looked around, giving a small yelp when you realized Illumi was damn near leaning over you from behind, "Uh, s-sir??" you squeaked with wide (e/c) eyes before quickly clearing your throat and speaking again in a more composed voice "is there something I can help you with...master Illumi?" He simply stared at you, straightening at least when he had gotten your attention, "I was wanting to ask something." He finally explained, walking around you to be in front, which helped you relax a tad bit, as at least now you weren't relying on somewhat intimate senses to gauge where he was, "Well sir, if this is about some cleaning issue, I wasn't the one to clean your wing yesterday, that was a different maid," you chirped, using your happy demeanor to hopefully hide the filthy places your brain had shot to after his words. "I know, I ran into the maid yesterday. I'd rather ask this of a woman closer to my age." he said flatly, and if he noticed any giveaways for your lascivious thoughts he didn't acknowledge them as he went on, "you see, father has told me I lack experience with women, and if I'm to find a wife I need to learn. So, would you help me?" he asked, making you blink, your brain temporarily screeching to a halt. "Uh, I don't see how I could help with that, master Illumi." you pointed out, laughing awkwardly while he looked at you coldly, and you knew you might've offended him, "(Y/n), I know very well that you are attracted to me, you more than any other maid should realize I have no trouble attracting women." and just like that, the color drained from your face. Your heart felt like someone was trying to squeeze the blood from it while you scrambled to reassure him, the task not made easier under his calculating, unreadable gaze. Finally, after a moment of floundering, you gave up and just went quiet, resigning yourself to the embarrassment of so brutally having your crush called out, "A-alright, so...what did you need help with?" you asked, your voice somewhat quiet, which seemed to amuse or please the long haired billionaire in front of you, "I need practice with seducing a woman, and if I am to try, I'd prefer to seduce someone I find attractive. So, I chose you." The words made your breath catch in your throat, but before you could put together the words to ask your next question, or even the power of thought required to register that last part, he spoke again, "No, I am not a virgin, I just don't have a plethora of experience, and my father says that I need more if I'm to get a wife." he explained, and you decided not to push it further or ask about why his father was concerned with the issue, "Alright, so what do you want me to do to help?" you asked instead, "I would like for you to let me try to seduce you. You have my permission to tell me if my attempts are off in any way," You nodded, agreeing to help the struggling assassin. After that was settled, he left you alone to continue cleaning. What followed was possibly the most awkward period in your life. True to his word, Illumi did try his best to try and seduce you over the next two weeks, and true to his word, he did need work at it. Part of you was somewhat charmed at how awkward this intimidating murderer was when it came to trying to flirt, but the rest of you lowkey wanted to be one of his hits rather than hit on for that same reason.

At first, his lines were rather cheesy, stuff that you guessed he heard his parents use or from movies, but as time went it became pretty obvious that the lines weren't exactly the issue, his delivery was. "y'know, this might work better if you were more...expressive," you advised one day after he'd tried another miss of a pick-up line, and all you really got in response was a slow, owlish blink, "Expressive? I'm expressive," he argued, but you shook your head, "You have a tendency to sound bored or uninterested when you speak, and it's currently what's making you sound so awkward...sir." you explained, and for a moment he looked a tad lost, but than hummed, "What should I sound like then?" he finally asked, "Hisoka?" Your stomach dropped at the thought of Illumi trying to imitate Hisoka's way of flirting. You'd run into the brightly colored magician a few times, mostly whenever he'd stop by to be tortured for interfering with jobs, and you'd been hit on each time by the man. You didn't know if you could survive Illumi being as brash, forward, and creepy as that. "I wouldn't suggest following his lead, but m-maybe finding a middle ground? L-like, sound more...coy? Flirtatious? But don't sound quite as...aroused, as master Hisoka does." you advised, and Illumi seemed to understand better. "so, what if I did this," he than walked towards you, backing you to the wall of room you'd been cleaning in his wing and than caging you between his arms before leaning down so your faces were closer together before he spoke in a much more playful, husky voice, "Would you let me bed you now, (y/n)?" and you couldn't even respond. It was like he'd knocked the wind from your lungs in one try, leaving you feeling as if you were going to melt down the wall. Thankfully, Illumi inferred your answer from there and smirked a bit while his hands slid down and than around you, pulling you closer to him so you didn't have the option of sliding downwards anymore. "I didn't expect it to be so easy to win you over, (y/n). I've only changed one thing and you're already putty." he purred, and all you could muster up was a pretty brainless reply, "It's a pretty big...change." even in your derpy, hormone-addled state that sounded kinda dumb, but it got you a small laugh from Illumi. After that, the assassin took you by surprise and actually went in for a kiss, though he pulled away when you squeaked, "What?" "ah, n-nothing, just didn't expect you to...do that." you squeaked out, your body now fully aware of just how close his was, and of a small spot of pressure. "I did say I would try to seduce you, that includes getting you to have sex with me." he pointed out, and his return to a disinterested, aloof voice did nothing to stop his words from being gasoline on a bonfire to you. So, when you couldn't form any other arguments, he kissed you again, and this time you were swift to return it. You wouldn't admit it, but you were a little surprised at just how good of a kisser Illumi was. Yes, he'd said he wasn't a virgin, but after some asking around you'd learned that he at most has has sex 4 times, all for jobs, so you were not expecting his kiss to knock you on your proverbial ass like it did. Though, you were glad to be in one of his side rooms when it did, because the way he dominated your tongue with his, and slid his hand down your back, over your ass and down your thigh to pick up your knee may have gotten a pretty inappropriate noise out of you. So, when he finally broke the kiss to step away in order to strip, you were already panting while following his lead and losing your own clothing. Once fully disrobed, he wasted no time in scooping you up and pressing you back into the wall with another kiss, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips for support. Then, he set to work on getting more moans out of you. He started with pressing his body to yours, and you rewarded him with a mewl and a hip wiggle when you felt his swiftly stiffening member against your stomach, you also gasped and moaned when his lips moved from yours and down your throat, zeroing in on your sweet spot within seconds and nipping and sucking at it until you were sure to bruise. After that, you were already soaked enough for him, but he kept going, keeping you up with one hand on your ass, using the other to rub your clit and send shockwaves of pleasure through you so powerful you curse and arched your back. "it's been a while since you've gotten off, hasn't it?" He asked, using that playful purr you'd later curse yourself for teaching him to use, but for now you just nodded. It really had been a long while since you'd had sex, if at all, but either way the way he played your body like an instrument had all other times currently beaten. That decision was set in stone when you felt him leave your clit for a moment to slip a finger inside of your already soaked cunt, giving a few testing thrusts just to make you moan again, then he pulled his hand away and instead grabbed onto your hips to lift you up more, which earned a squeal when your hips pressed more against his member on the way up. He quieted you down briefly with another kiss while your veins coursed with lightning and he lined himself up with your entrance. He pulled away just as he pushed into you, wanting to hear you whine his name as he filled you up. Once you were full, he began to move, briefly setting a slow pace, but once you were moaning more he was quick to get rougher. Pretty soon you were a mess of moans and curses, clawing into his shoulders a bit, which got you pretty mercilessly rammed into as punishment, but the pain only seemed to further feed your lust at this point, along with Illumi sprinkling in hungry kisses while he slammed his dick into you repeatedly. Though, he made sure to use one hand to hold your hips in place while the other was in your (h/l), (h/c) hair to keep you from moving up the wall or turning your head to avoid his demands for kisses. In a short time you could feel a knot in your stomach tighten, your orgasm quickly approaching. So, with one final cry of his name, you let yourself fall over the edge, Illumi soon following after. Though, part of you was a bit sad that he pulled out to spill his seed onto your stomach and not fill you up with the warm fluid, but you kept your complaints to a small whine, which earned you a look that you gauged as intrigued. "Did you want me to come inside?" he asked, and while his voice was back to being flat, and notedly not changed by the activity he just partook in or the fact that he was holding you up, you could hear the hint of maybe surprise in it. "A little..." you admitted with an embarrassed, breathy laugh before trying to unwrap your legs from around him so you could get dressed, but he moved his hand from your hair to your thigh, keeping it in place, "Well than, I'll have to fix my error."

#maid reader #illumi #illumi x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #Illumi x maid!reader #not sfw

113 notes · View notes

jeromesxreader16 · 3 years

Text

Such a Joker (49)

Part 48 Here

~o0o~

I walk in looking at the extravagant new home hidden away. "This is beautiful, Jeremiah." I gasp looking over every inch of beauty crafted from the mind of my man. "The children already have an empty room waiting for them. I'll have the workers gather some materials. From now on I would like you to stay here. If you must leave, please be with Ecco or Babara at all times." Jeremiah speaks calmly sitting on the couch. "You trust me with Babs?" Jeremiah smiles nodding his head. "For now."

I smile laying in his arms looking out of the large windows. "Are you happy you're going to be a father?" Jeremiah pulls me close humming. "Of course. We'll need to get married. I will not have my children be born Gordons." I laugh kissing his nose. "They're Valeska's, trust me."

I sit up covering myself with the silk sheets. Jeremiah stands in the mirror looking over his new attire. His hair has fully darkened and his lips are a brighter red in contrast to his pale tone. "I like it," Jeremiah smirks at me walking over. "You're adorable, dear mommy." He leans down kissing me.

"Now while I'm out where will you be?" I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. "Right here, Jer. You don't have to worry." "Oh, I know. It's others that worry me. Call me if you have any trouble, love." I nod watching him walk away.

Hours later my phone rings as I'm going through my new wardrobe Jeremiah provided me with. "Hello?" "(Y/n)! How are you doing, love? Want to grab lunch before your boyfriend blows the city up?" I giggle at her as I hold up a shirt smiling. "So you've heard." "Yeah. Care to chat?" "I can do that. I'll send you the address." "Great! I'll get you a ride."

Not long after the call ends a black car rolls up into the driveway. I exit the house getting into the car. Barbara sighs, "I'm sorry, (y/n). Nothing personal. We just need the upper hand." "What?" Suddenly a bag is thrown over my head and my wrists tied together.

As we enter a warehouse I'm sat down in a chair and the bag is removed. I look over and see Jongleur has been captured as well.

Barbara kneels, smiling. "You look really good by the way. Glowing and all." I turn my head away. "I'm still mad at you." She nods, "Yeah, but we can't have Gotham blown up."

Only after a long ten minutes, Jeremiah walks down with his followers seeing us.

"Oswald Cobblepot. Barbara Kean. In my stronghold."

"Not one step closer, Mr. Valeska," Oswald says pointing a gun at me. Jeremiah's eyes grow deadly cold. "And is that my dear Jongleur with my core relay in his hand and a grenade taped to his mouth? Not only that, but you have the future mother of my children strapped to a chair with a gun pointed at her head?"

"Indeed, it is."

"Huh. Well, it seems you have the upper hand."

"Undoubtedly. And now, we have our own demands.... $50 million.

Jeremiah widens his eyes in amusement. "That's what you want?"

Oswald smiles nodding, "It's a nice, round number."

"I don't quite have that on me right now," Jeremiah says calmly. "You gave the mayor six hours to evacuate Gotham. An impossible task. Let him buy another hour. He will save thousands of lives. $50 million will seem cheap." I laugh, shaking my head. "You're playing him the villain, while you get away free and rich? Shoot me now." I roll my eyes laughing.

Jeremiah smirks at me, giving me hope. "I get you the money, you give me back my fiance and my core relay." Barbara hums smarting off, "That is usually how a hand-off works, yeah." I look over my shoulder at her huffing.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'll see what I can do. Hold tight, darling." Jeremiah pulls out his phone quickly. "Just like that? After knowing your brother, I expected something more..." Jeremiah scoffs, "Insane? I'm nothing if not sane and reasonable. Two things my brother never valued. That's why I'll be successful where he failed. Well, that, being vastly more intelligent and winning (Y/n). Now, to see about your money."

He dials the numbers and brings his phone to his ear. "This is Jeremiah Valeska. I'd like to speak to the mayor. I have additional demands... Yes, really... 50 million, unmarked bills. I'll tell you about the location. "

Jeremiah chuckles looking at us. "Would you believe it? They put me on hold." He bends down pulling out a bazooka. My chair is pulled out of the blast range from one of our followers as Jeremiah aims and shoots at the core relay blowing it up.

Jeremiah cuts me free holding me close. "Are you alright?" I nod into his chest.

"Are you out of your mind?" Oswald screams in shock.

"Why do you keep insisting I'm insane? What's insane about having a backup plan, something Jongleur never knew about. And, so you know, this building is within the blast radius. And because of your interference, I'm going to detonate the bombs as soon as I'm far enough away to observe the destruction in peace with my family."

"No, you promised the city six hours!"

"Whose fault is it that I changed my mind?"

"You've blown up the bunker and the Mayor already. How many bombs were you thinking of using, honey?"

Jeremiah lays his hand on my leg as he transports me home safely. "I need a blank slate. Everything must go. I want to be set up in the center and have the whole Gotham city park the backyard for the kids." Jeremiah opens the door for me as we walk into the house. "I'll be home soon. Take a tour of the barracks downstairs. Then tour the master bathroom with the newly renovated jacuzzi." Jeremiah finishes halfway out the door. "I'll miss you." He sighs dramatically gazing at me. "And I you, darling."

Jim POV:

I walked into the GCPD shocking every one of my colleagues. "Jim!" Harvey rushes pulling me in a hug. "Oh, Buddy." I chuckle while pulling away wincing. "All right, easy there, big fella. Remember, I just got blown up."

"How did you get out of the bunker?"

"It's a long story, but what matters is, I have the locations of every bomb Jeremiah planted." I hold up the plans from the bunker for everyone to see.

"Jeremiah wasn't bluffing. There are at least a dozen bombs on this map."

"But you're saying, if we disarm one of them in the sequence, we'll stop all of them from going off. And according to this, the closest one is just a mile away."

Harvey starts rambling off plans for the squad to carry out, "Alert the bomb squad. Tell them to meet me there." "Wait, Harvey. Let the bomb squad handle this. You don't have to go." He nods at me with the determination of prey. "Yes, I do. I need this, Jim."

Jeremiah walks in the bedroom seeing me spin in one of the many new outfits he gifted me with. "Are we happy, (y/n)?" He asks strolling over and taking me in his arms as he looks at us in the mirror.

I nod smiling at my soon to be husband. "Are you ready to start our new life together, sweets?" He pulls my hair over my shoulder lining my neck with kisses. I turn away from him pulling him out the door by his tie. "If you keep that up we'll be late."

We enter the elevator descending to the followers' barracks. As we enter they chant cleanly, "Jeremiah! Jeremiah!"

Jeremiah switches the denominator on his trigger; just one flick of that switch and its bye bye Gotham City.

"All my life I spent by myself, hidden away. I am so glad to be sharing this happy moment with you, (y/n), and all of you as well. Today marks the dawning of a new Gotham City. One where we will all be free. Now, shall I do the honors?"

Jeremiah makes his speech walking down the lined army of members, towards a TV with the news just waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly a familiar face appears on the screen. My father.

"That's Jim Gordon! He's not dead." The followers cry out in a tantrum.

"This is a message to the followers of Jeremiah Valeska. Jeremiah claims to have killed me. Well, bad news, I'm alive." My father smiles smugly on the screen.

Jeremiah turns back to all of us shaking his head trembling. "No. No, it's a trick. I killed him."

"So, just know, you're worshiping a fraud. A pale imitation of Jerome. You did your worst, Jeremiah. And I'm still here. And I'm coming for my daughter." Jeremiah turns off the TV in a rushed frustration.

"Doesn't matter whether he's alive. When I hit this switch, you'll hear the sounds of a new world being born. Our world. Now... Listen." He hisses as he flips the switch. I smile awaiting a reaction, but nothing changes. I tilt my head confused and look at Jeremiah turn the switch over and over.

Every one of the false followers starts to gang up on Jeremiah, "He's a fake!" "He's a liar! Liar!"

"SHUT UP!" He screams, slowly making his way to the door. He makes his way to me grabbing my hand and kissing it. "I want you all to know I find your fickleness quite hurtful... And more so, very predictable. Come, love." Jeremiah pulls us out, locking the room shut with the followers inside. He pulls open the box on the wall pressing the large red button engraved with PURGE.

The room soon engulfed in horrid screams and bright flames as they burn in the chamber. He sighs watching them through the window. "Well, that is disappointing."

I grab his hand pulling him towards the elevator. "Don't focus on that, what we need to do now is go to your office and figure this out." "Darling, I adore enthusiasm, but I haven't gotten started in the office. This was supposed to work out." He groans frustrated.

The elevator takes us up a floor to a large room I have started to make into his office. He walks in seeing a desk there with his plans and breaks into a smile. "You didn't have to do this, darling." He removes his blazer, tossing it on his chair while I move to sit on the desk.

"I know, but I wanted to. If this is going to be our home I want you to have your spot to work again." Jeremiah rolls out the map smirking, "Well then, let's get to work."

We spend hours looking over the plans for flames and or issues, but I can't think of anyone who would've taken the chance between the two triggers.

"I got it!" I laugh lowering my feet from the desk. " If you had Jim in your office with the prints he took them when he escaped!" Jeremiah nods gathering along, "Gordon found one of the bombs, and sabotaged the sequence... I'll have to start again." Jeremiah nods looking down at the map of the City.

"You're tenacious. I like that." A ghostly voice runs along the walls of the room. Jeremiah pulls me behind him pulling out his gun. "Who are you? What do you want?" He speaks calmly.

"I had a vision of Gotham in flames. Together we can make that happen." A man from the upper half of the platform speaks. "Well, I say we appreciate the offer, but recent events have convinced me of the benefits of working alone." Jeremiah shoots at him, but the man moves too fast.

I stifle a giggle pulling out my gun. "Your shot is horrible."

"Don't be so rash. Your dream of a new Gotham fit for your family will come to be, with my help." This man speaks again from the other corner of the room. I raise my gun shooting at him, but he vanishes.

Jeremiah sighs laying a hand on my hip. "You're behind me, aren't you?"

We turn around meeting this mystery man with the plan. "I can conquer Gotham on my own. What makes you think I need your help? Whoever you are."

He smirks walking closer. "Because, my boy, all this is not just about Gotham. This is about Bruce Wayne."

I gasp giggling. "This just got interesting."

"You're going to get arrested!" I fight Jeremiah as we go over this plan. He shrugs dusting his hat. "Love, I'm escaping. Can't you focus on that?" I huff crossing my arms. "I want to go with you." Jeremiah laughs shaking his head. "Have you forgotten you're carrying twins, my love? I am going to be shooting people. Use your head." I laugh pulling at his tie. "I've been thinking of names." "Oh? Want to tell me as we watch Gotham burn?" "Root beer floats will be waiting." Jeremiah rolls his eyes. "You and your cravings." "Blame your kids!"

I walk into Wayne's home leaving the door wide open. I walk to the study smirking as I hear the ongoing conversation.

"Why do you think he's so obsessed with you?" Selina Kyle asks Bruce. "Jeremiah said, "All it takes is one bad day to drive a person insane." I wonder if my parents dying made me a little insane? Maybe he sensed that. Maybe he wanted to bring it out." I smirk nodding my head. "Smart boy."

"Well, you proved him wrong."

I roll my eyes entering the room. "To be fair, the day's not over yet." Selina stands up going to attack, but I simply pull the trigger of my gun shooting her in the lower abdomen.

Bruce screams as I am tackled to the floor by the butler and brutally beaten. Just one bad day Bruce.

#jerome #jerome x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska imagine #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska smut #Gotham #Gotham City #gotham cast #Cameron Monaghan

28 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 20

First

I get a little fight scene. As a treat.

Ladybug hated fire.

Maybe that was why Hawkmoth seemed determined to have at least one fire type akuma a month. She didn’t know if or how he knew, but it seemed like something he’d do.(Maybe he played Pokemon, she mused, and knew that bug types were weak against fire types. She doubted it, though.)

But the problem, somehow, wasn’t currently the giant fire demon. It was that they were falling very quickly.

She reached past Carapace to grab ahold of the back of Rena’s suit and unfurled her wings. She pulled the woman closer to her and forced herself to a quick stop, which was decidedly NOT fun. Her brain rattled in her head as she felt the boys tear past them and Rena made a choking sound when her suit dug into her.

But she’d managed to stop them from falling. And with four meters to spare. A new record!

She changed her grip on Rena to hold her in her arms and checked her throat as she slowly made her way down. A little red and irritated, but fine.

She set her on the ground and looked around for the boys.

Chat had landed on his feet with ease. Carapace had made a staircase out of plates and was doing that awkward half-run people do when they start falling down the stairs and need to go fast to stay upright.

She set her down and allowed herself to breathe.

Cool. No one died.

(Yet. She suspected that Chloe would be getting at least a little punch once the akuma was gone if the look on the other holders’ faces meant anything.)

Their not-so-smooth entrance had apparently been noticed by Cinderella. How did she figure this out?

“FOOT!” Warned Carapace, which wasn’t really needed because the giant foot was hard to miss but whatever.

The four scattered like the rats in Ratatouille. The world shook in a way that nearly threw her off-balance and it took everything in her not to go skidding across the asphalt on her stomach.

She ducked behind a currently untouched car -- a bad idea considering if the car caught on fire the gasoline would blow her sky high but it was cover so she was ignoring it -- and looked around wildly for some sort of inspiration.

Rena was nowhere to be seen. Ladybug figured she was attempting to get civilians to safety.

Chat and Carapace had taken it upon themselves to attempt to distract Cinderella. They yelled for her attention from random spots and then attempted to not become stains on the pavement as the increasingly annoyed akuma attempted to squash them under her heel or sent a trail of fire after them.

Ladybug vaguely noted that Cinderella was rather slow to react, which wasn’t abnormal for larger akumas, but it was still good to note that in case she could use that...

She considered making a tripwire with the streetlights. It was a classic. Unfortunately, though, she doubted that the streetlights were strong enough to stop something as big as this particular akuma.

(Also, her yoyo string catching on fire or getting caught under Cinderella would not have been good.)

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to look and Rena and scowled at being pulled out of her thinking process. “What?”

Rena winced a little bit at her sharp tone but pointed out the fire hydrant nearby. “Help me with this.”

She looked over at it and nodded. She wrapped her yoyo around it and the two of them threw their weight into trying to cut the hydrant in half.

No dice, unfortunately.

Time for more drastic measures.

“Go get cover.”

“But --!”

“Go.”

Rena looked like she was about to try and argue again, but she stopped herself and ran to hide in a building.

Ladybug pushed the car to the hydrant and climbed on top of it.

“HEY! CINDERELLA!”

A tear-stained (was it still called tear-stained if she cried lava?) face turned towards her.

A trail of flame went straight for her and Ladybug barely had time to think ‘oh fuck’ before the car beneath her exploded.

She went flying -- in the bad way. A weird weightlessness overtook her and she struggled to unfurl her wings through the haze. She hit a nearby building and it took everything in her not to cry out as her own ribcage did its best to poke holes in her.

She slid to the ground and rested her head back against the concrete. Everything hurt. She was pretty sure she’d felt her brain hit the back of her skull and every breath rattled in her lungs and her ears was threatening to drive her insane and every bone she had seemed to be trying to break out and…

She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep… just for a minute...

A new, sharp pain flared across her cheek and her eyes flew open to see Chloe standing over her.

“Don’t die on me.”

She attempted to swat the giant bug away so she could sleep, which didn’t work because her body was currently not responding to her wishes. She had to settle for a slurred ‘fuck off’. All she got was a tiny scoff as the woman pointed her spinning top at her.

If Ladybug could move, she would have cringed when honey covered her. It was so… weird feeling, honestly. It was even weirder to feel her bones mending and her blood slowly seeping back into her. She’d been doing it for years and yet she doubted she’d ever get used to it.

Within a minute, Ladybug could move her limbs. She reached out and Chloe took her hand, pulling her out of the honey...

Ah. Fire. She’d forgotten about the fire. Somehow.

Probably because the water that had erupted out of where the fire hydrant had once been and now the fire was struggling to get near them. (Her socks were drenched, though, so she could hardly think of this as a positive.)

“What’d you figure out?”

Chloe gave her a slightly annoyed look but she started explaining: “Cinderella is only wearing the veil, the dress, and some shoes. I couldn’t find any pins or belts, so unless Hawkmoth started hiding the akumatized items it has to be one of those.”

Ladybug nodded and looked up at Cinderella. What could they do? Usually the akumatized object was obvious...

Rena materialized next to them and the two immediately reached to push each other behind themselves. Then they relaxed.

Ladybug winced internally when she heard Chat give a cry of pain. They were on borrowed time.

“You got a plan?” She asked. Her pride wasn’t worth her housemates’ lives.

Rena hesitated. “I have one for the veil.”

They waited in polite silence for her to continue, and when she didn’t Chloe made a tiny motion to say ‘get on with it, will you?’

She beamed. “One of you needs to fly Chat up to destroy it.”

Ladybug considered this and then nodded. “Queenie, I’ll leave that to you. I can get the dress with a lucky charm. Can you and Carapace destroy the shoes?”

Rena nodded seriously.

There was a flicker of light around them and Cinderella paused mid-stomp. She made a confused sound that was audible miles below.

Chat and Carapace looked like they were going to collapse -- out of exhaustion or relief, it was hard to tell.

The women walked over and Chloe went to work on healing Carapace.

“What’s the plan?” Asked Chat who, besides the arm that appeared to be doing its best imitation of a staircase, looked fine.

The women exchanged looks as if to say ‘I’M not going to tell him, you do it’, and this was enough for Chat to figure out that whatever it was he wasn’t going to like it. Or maybe it was the fact that Chloe didn’t seem all that concerned about healing him up.

Whatever had tipped him off, he fell back in the water and groaned.

Thank the kwamis for Rena’s powers. Why hadn’t Master Fu given someone this miraculous sooner? Fights were SO much easier with her around.

Rena and Carapace had taken to latching onto Cinderella’s feet and attempting not to get thrown off as she kicked building after building in search of… something? Maybe them, maybe the person who had gotten her akumatized, they didn’t know for sure.

Chloe had taken Chat up to her head to Cataclysm the veil.

Ladybug had summoned the largest sword she could while still making it functional and positioned it over the top of Cinderella’s dress, preparing for her drop.

And all of that was met with zero resistance, because the akuma couldn’t see them.

“NOW!” Yelled Chloe.

Chat started screaming as he was dropped onto the flame-covered veil and she ignored the taste of bile. It would be fine soon, the akuma would be gone and they could fix it, she reminded herself.

But it might not be gone if she didn’t do anything soon, so she should probably get on with it.

Ladybug fought her normal self-preservation instincts and stabbed the giant flame demon, then flew downward as quickly as she could.

The akuma attempted to get away from the sword currently splitting her and her dress open, but it was too late.

She was just cutting a cake she was just cutting a cake she was just cutting a cake that was SCREAMING --.

Just a cake!

And then the sword was slicing through nothing.

She peeked her eyes open and found that someone else must have gotten the akuma. She dropped the sword and looked around wildly for a falling body.

There.

She caught the person who had been Cinderella and vaguely registered the sound of Chloe whizzing past her to catch Chat.

Ladybug glanced down at the sword steadily falling to earth and winced, willing it to disappear before it managed to do any damage to the newly-resurrected people below.

She allowed the person to rest her head against her shoulder as she slowly made her descent, her fingers combing through her hair soothingly.

It was done.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet

52 notes · View notes

durmstrange · 4 years

Text

Bilingual - Fred Weasley

Welcome to my next Fred blurb! This one was requested by anon and I’ve never written anything like it so I thought I’d give it a go.

Enjoy!

word count: 2,338

On a particularly sunny day, you sat on the ground with your legs crossed and a book in your lap, reading over your Potions content for the next exam you had coming up in just a few short days. Silently, as you flipped the pages of you book so slowly, a snake you had come to know well, and would almost consider your pet, slithered up your arm and back down as slow as could be.

You didn’t mind it. The feeling of the scales on your skin was once intimidating, but it had become like a second nature to you over time. In fact, you found yourself missing the sensation on occasion when the snake, or any snake, really, was not there. It was a foreign feeling you were no longer used to.

As you sat alone, you were fully aware of the looks you were getting from the passing students. You were beyond used to it by now. After all, what fifteen-year-old student walked around with dangerous creatures on their arm? After the fiasco in your fourth year with the Chamber of Secrets, you were used to being alone and you were used to the stares you got from others.

As time passed, you noticed a shadow looming over you as you read, causing a pulse you did not realize you had in your forehead to begin rhythmically thumping, and you looked up, beyond irritated with whoever was blocking the warm sunlight.

“Aye, you know you have a snake on your arm, right?” A comically confused voice asked as you squinted up at him, making out the quizzical face of Fred Weasley, a boy who was in your year but in Gryffindor house. You had very little contact with him, and had even been the victim of one of his pranks, once. Even through your anger, you found yourself amused with his joke, and had kept tabs on him since.

This question had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t help but to chuckle as you placed your hand on the ground, the snake slithering off quickly to get away from Fred as if he were the plague. “I do, but thank you for the concern,” you told him airily once the snake scurried off into its hole not far from the tree. Just as quickly as Fred started the conversation, you ended it as you returned your eyes to the book in your lap. At least, you had thought.

Fred remained looming over you, an insanely amused look on his face. You knew he was not about to give up from the look on his face, and for some reason, you were not too irritated with it. “Does it not bother you?” He continued to questions and you sighed lightly, closing you book and squinting up to him once more. Why was he standing right in the way of the sun? You could hardly see him and in the fall weather, the sunlight provided you with warmth that would otherwise make you wear a jacket.

“No, not at all. Why would it?” An ironic smirk began to form on your face as you tilted your hear to the side. It was moderately surprising that he was one of the few people who did not know who you were. Doesn’t he and his brother know everyone?

Fred laughed loudly as he reached his hand out to you to help you up. “Well, for one, people are typically terrified of snakes. And for seconds, if they aren’t, they surely don’t let the snakes crawl all over them,” he said as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you up and you straightened your shirt out as you chuckled.

With a charming smile on your face, you shook your head at his words. “For one,” you began, imitating him, “snakes do not crawl, they slither. For seconds, they have the tendency to not hurt you if you are able to speak with them,” you told him with a nervous smile on your face, ready for him to give you hell for your ability.

For a moment, Fred did not seem to understand. He had an odd look on his face as you stepped into the sunlight once more, sighing at the warmth returning. Then, just seconds after his face was struck with realization, words fell from his mouth that you made you positive that he didn’t think about beforehand. “No way! Wicked! Parseltongue?” He spoke far too excitedly for you to keep the laugh from forming in your throat. “You have got to help me collect some snake venom! Do you realize what properties it has? It can coagulate just about anything and in small, microscopic doses, it is actually really good for you! Not to mention is can make the consumer dizzy and hallucinate…” He rambled on about snake venom, which was oddly surprising for his character.

You laughed until your stomach hurt and finally put your hand up, stopping his talking as his face turned pink. “All right. You need to take a breath or you might pass out from getting too excited. Besides, you don’t even know my name!” You hit his arm lightly with your book. The smile on his face seemed like it was so blissful but so foolish.

With a reddened face, Fred laughed. “Sorry about that. I’ve never met a parseltongue other than Harry Potter, but he is known for everything, so it is exciting to meet someone who is, you know, average.” With the smile remaining on your face, you lifted an eyebrow to him. His face reddened even further as he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean—not that you aren’t special, or anything, but you really, surely are, but I mean average as in...” He paused and stopped in the middle of his sentence, signing. “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly and gave you a slight frown.

“It’s fine. I am actually used to people subtly insulting me,” you replied back with a crooked smile on your lips.

Fred’s eyes widened. “No, I wasn’t meaning to insult you,” he explained hurriedly with a panicked look on his face. With your smile only growing further, you nodded. “Let’s start over, yeah?” he offered you with an embarrassed look on his face.

You held your hand out to him. “I’m (Y/N),” You introduced yourself as he took your hand.

Again, Fred looked surprised. “You’re (Y/N)? The one who everyone thought was the Heir of Slytherin in fourth year?” He questioned, drawing connections all together. You felt his tone change, something you did not care much for.

With a roll of your eyes, you nodded. “The very same. Foolish, actually. I am half-blood anyways and my magical father is the least intimidating or menacing man in the world,” you explained as you checked the old watch on your wrist. It was getting close to dinner. The slight pang in your stomach at the thought told you that you were hungry.

Fred hummed and nodded, but the look on his face told you that he was still so fascinated. “So, were people mean to you, like they were to Harry?” Fred continued to question without skipping a beat as you began walking slowly, him following your pace, and his eyes holding so many questions he wanted answered.

You huffed, an angry, unforgiving noise, and looked away from Fred. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Bunch of fools, if you ask me. Why is it that I am prejudiced for being bilingual when someone who speaks French and English is not?” You asked Fred with an irritable tone in your voice.

He smiled a foreign smile to you and chuckled lightly. “When you put it that way, it does sound rather foolish,” Fred agreed and put his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I suppose I own you an apology, then. I told Harry on multiple occasions that it had to be you and not him being the Heir of Slytherin, given you were in Slytherin and all,” Fred explained to you and his eyes ducked to the ground. With him trying to look away from you, you noticed how pretty his eyes were for the first time in this conversation.

With a laugh, you shook your head. “No need to apologize. I’ve gotten it enough that I almost believed it at one point. Fortunately, that is all behind us now. Given that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back and all, as the true Heir of Slytherin,” you spoke so casually that it almost made Fred hesitant to be around you much more. Could this all be a sham and you were evil, truly? He pressed his lips together and stared hard at you.

“You believe Harry, then?”

Again, you chuckled, and leaned closer to Fred. “Of course!” You whispered to him. “Between you and I, my father works with the Quibbler and a lot of the supportive opinions published come directly from him,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice down for anyone who could possibly be listening. Fred hummed in reply, something that made you frown. He didn’t believe you. “You are being hesitant because I am in Slytherin, aren’t you?” You asked him. He did not respond. “Well, if you doubt my character, you can ask Luna Lovegood, who has become close with Harry, about myself and my family, given that I have grown up with her,” you snapped, suddenly angry. You were ill with the fact that he could be so thick. You were a person after all, and the Slytherin crest was just something you were forced to wear. “It is a shame. I had really actually enjoyed speaking with you.” You finished with one last biting sentence and stormed off, not even hungry for dinner anymore.

~.~

A couple days after your run-in with Fred Weasley, you found yourself to still be cross with him and his attitude. What right does he have to judge you solely on what house you were in? Or, was that it at all? Did he judge you on everything, from being a parseltongue to your house, down to the clothes you wore and the way you spoke? All of it made you feel sick and your stomach felt constantly unsettled as you went on with your life the same.

At times you were in the Great Hall, you sat as far away from Fred as you possibly could, typically alone and hidden in the crowd, with the idea that if he saw you less, the more he would forget about you. You secretly had wished that you had never met him at all, but you were unable to turn back time and you had to deal with it regardless.

During dinner on a Friday night, you sat with a book in one hand and a fork with green beans on it in the other. You were consumed in your book, like usual, and you were trying hard to ignore the world around you while you read. This had become normal for you for dinners. On occasion, you would sit with Luna or another fellow Slytherin who was a reject like you, but mostly, you filled the social aspect of your day with books.

As you ate slowly, a voice tore your attention from the words of the library book. “Do you ever stop reading?” Fred’s voice asked, causing you to look up with wide eyes as you swallowed the partially chewed food in your mouth, nearly choking on it. You stared at him with a slightly irritated but mostly alarmed look on your face. “Can I have a word?” He asked you as he nodded towards the doorway of the Great Hall.

With a sigh, you set your fork down and pushed your plate away from you. You strangely knew you would not be coming back to your food. You marked your page with a strip of parchment and stood, following Fred out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. He came to a stop and you about bumped into him, but took a few steps back away from him.

“I was rather rude, wasn’t I?” Fred asked with a small, sheepish smile on his lips and you stood, clutching your book to your chest, and simply nodded. “I would like to apologize for that. I did some thinking, and talked to Loony Lovegood like you suggested, and I came to the realization that I had branded you with a dark image without even knowing you and I hate myself for that. It drives me bonkers when people put assumptions to my person given my last name, and I should not go the same to you for who you are.” Fred explained with a frown growing on his lips. His shoulders hunched forward and there was a look on his face you had not seen before. You knew too well that he regretted the way he acted and because of this, you gave a small nod. Fred raised an eyebrow, and the small smile formed on his lips once more. “So, can we start over?” He asked hopefully and gave you the biggest, sweetest puppy eyes you had ever seen. You loved his eyes.

With a small chuckle, you nodded. “Yes, we can, but keep in mind that this is the second time we are starting over. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving,” you teased with a wide smile on your face as you looked away, trying to hide from his stare.

Fred smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and drawing you close to him. “Luckily, there won’t be a next time. I think this is the second start to a wonderful friendship,” he promised you as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Technically third.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #Fred Weasley fanfction #Fred Weasley one shot #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley preference #hogwarts #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Harry Potter fanfiction

208 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 7, Ch. 5

PART 7: THE YEAR OF HIDING AND PASSION Chapter 5 - A Very Angry Charlie

Charlie

Sometimes, I needed to pinch myself just to make sure that my life was real and I wasn't dreaming. But with how things have been lately, it's hard to believe the pinch because I am living my dream.

I am a Quidditch Captain, I was deemed to be one of the best Seekers Gryffindor had in years. I had less than a year before my dream job turns from part-time to full-time and I was head over heels in love with the girl who loved me back just as much. Not only that, she accepted the job they offered her in Romania and is going to work with me after we finish school.

As if that didn't make her perfect enough, she attended every single one of our practice matches no matter how busy she was.

“C'mon, George, you could've gotten that!” I yelled across the pitch when my brother missed the Bludger that almost hit one of our Chasers. Today was the first game of the Quidditch House Cup and we were playing against Slytherin. They play dirty and I wanted my team to be prepared for anything.

We have won every year now since I am on the Team and I wanted to leave with victory as well.

“My bad, Charlie! Can we repeat that?” George shouted back. I nodded and we tried again. We were developing a new strategy as we decided we are not playing nice if the other team won't even try.

“There you go, George! Much better!” I clapped my hands together as my brother hit the Bludger in the right direction. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I looked at the stands where Nova was standing with Penny and Tonks.

She looked as if she was about to melt and she hasn't stopped giving me that look ever since she got the letter from the Sanctuary. For me, it was no big deal. I mean, the second I heard they needed a Magizoologist I was there to tell them all about Nova and her accomplishments.

Nova, on the other hand, thought it was the biggest, most important thing anyone has ever done for her and she looked like she fell in love with me all over again. I, of course, didn't mind. I didn't think our relationship could get even better but it somehow did. It felt more relaxed and more filled with emotions as if she was holding back before.

Giving the fact that we didn't know what would become of us once we finish school, I wouldn't blame her if she was holding back. We thought we would have to do long-distance and even though we both agreed to it, we weren't exactly keen on doing so.

But now that we know we are going to either live together or be very close to one another after school, everything changed. She seems happier, she isn't holding back in any regard and she is just pouring all her love on me and I am doing nothing but enjoying it. The feeling, when you know someone loves you unconditionally is pure euphoria.

“Alright team, I think we're ready for today. Go take a break, I'll meet you in the tent!” I flew to Nova and the girls and stopped right in front of them.

“You're drooling, Blackwood.” I winked at her and Penny and Tonks giggled.

“Good luck, Charlie!” Penny jumped. “You look prepared.”

“Yeah, beat Slytherins for us!” Tonks cheered.

“Mhm, go Gryffindor!” Nova said dreamily, still leaning on her hand, staring at me like I was the most beautiful creature she has ever seen.

“Someone might think you're in love the way you're looking at him.” Tonks chuckled and nudged Nova in the ribs.

“Can I get a good luck kiss?” I flew a bit lower and closer to the stands and Nova leaned over and kissed me so passionately that I loosened the grip on my broom for a second.

“Woah, save some for after they win!” Penny laughed as Nova pulled back. I winked at her, she sighed and I flew down to the ground.

—

“Alright, team! How are we feeling about winning our first game of this season?” I said as I sat all my teammates down.

“We got this!” Fred swung his hand like it's no big deal.

“Slytherins won't know what hit them!” George added.

“We have team spirit and that's all we need!” Fred continued.

“We are the strongest team in this school!” George now stood up. I rolled my eyes.

I knew what they were doing. Ever since I became Captain, I had a few speeches prepared before and after the game. Without realizing it, one became my favorite so I began using the same speech every time. Even though it was Fred and George's first year on the Team, they knew the speech by heart as I told it before every Friendly as well and now they were mocking me all the time.

They were lucky they were the best Beaters we had in a long time otherwise I would kick them off the team months ago!

“Are you two done?” I pursed my lips to look annoyed even though I wasn't even mad. Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson tried hard not to laugh.

“I believe in all of you!” Fred imitated me.

“And know I am proud no matter the results!” George followed his lead. They both smirked at me.

“Now we're done!” They said together and sat back down.

“Alright!” I clapped my hands together as I heard Madam Hooch's whistle. “Don't forget the strategy we just practiced and just do your best!” They all stood up, we put our hands together, and got out of the tent.

—

“And another goal for Slytherin! They sure are on fire today! 170 to 20!”

The game was not going as we planned. Slytherin's new Chaser was pure talent on the broom. I wasn't even mad we were losing so badly.

I was trying hard to find the Snitch. The win wasn't as important as long as we don't have a big gap in points. Just as Angelina scored a goal, I noticed the golden ball. I tried to approach it as slowly as possible as the Slytherin's Seeker had his eyes on me all the time.

It was all up to me now and if our Team scores one more goal, we might just win!

“What an amazing performance from the new Slytherin Chaser!” McNully shouted into the microphone. “180 to 30 for Slytherin but what's that now!” Oh, no! McNully don't give away that I am after the Snitch!

“The Gryffindor Seeker and Quidditch Captain, Charlie Weasley spotted the Snitch!” I swear I will murder him! “Look at his technique! His flying is as effortless as a feather's and he is getting closer now!” I tried tuning him out before he starts throwing the chances of me getting the little ball at me.

—

“And the Snitch has been caught! Weasley has done it again! 180 to 170 for Slytherin but there is 89,1% chance that Gryffindor can still win the House Cup this year as...” Blah, blah blah! I rolled my eyes and flew to my teammates.

“You did great!” I encouraged them as they were waiting for my response since we lost the game.

“Their Chaser is insane!” George said in awe.

“Incredible, actually!” Angelina agreed. “Sorry, Charlie.” She looked at me and lowered her head.

“You all did a fantastic job! We'll work on it and do better in our other two matches!” I smiled at them and gestured that they should leave the pitch.

I looked in the direction Nova was standing with the girls before the game started and saw that they were still there.

“Charlie, I'm sorry.” She said, sadly.

“Don't be. Could be worse.” I smiled to reassure her I was alright.

“Good job on the Snitch, though!” Tonks gave me a thumbs up.

“Thanks.” I returned the gesture.

“Char...” I turned my head to Nova immediately. “We're going down to the Lake. We'll wait for you there.” Her smile melted my whole being. Perhaps she was the reason I was okay with losing. I nodded and joined my team.

I had a habit to stay behind after the rest of my teammates leave. I wanted to see that we left everything okay and that everyone's brooms were locked in place.

“Hi, may I come in?” I was just about to leave when my stomach turned when I realized who the voice belonged to.

“Can I help you?” I turned around to see McNully standing by the tent's entrance. I tried sounding as normal as possible. I knew he was a nice guy but I couldn't let go of the fact that Nova had a thing for him and that we had the worst fight of our friendship because of him.

“I was just leaving and saw you were still here.” He tried to smile but I knew he wasn't sure if he should. “I just wanted to say that you did great with the Snitch.”

“Thanks.” Was all I said. I didn't feel like getting into a conversation with him.

“And don't worry, with such a small gap between points your chances of winning the Cup are still very high.” He added.

“About 90%?” I couldn't help but mock him and I chuckled for some reason. I was getting a soft spot for this guy!

“89,1% to be exact.” He laughed. “I'll leave you to it then.” He waved and turned to exit the tent.

“And congratulations, by the way.” He said, turning his head back to me. “You and Nova look great together.” His smile was so genuine that I couldn't help but return in.

“Thank you.” I didn't know what to say. This was a very awkward situation.

“I knew I didn't have much of a chance even if she wanted to say yes to going to the Ball with me. You two would end up together anyway.” He winked at me and pushed himself out of the tent.

She was going to say yes to him going to the Ball?!

—

I saw Penny nudge Nova with her elbow and say something that looked like 'watch out, angry boyfriend approaching', as I was rushing towards them, furious by what McNully just told me.

“You were planning to go to the Ball with McNully?” I shouted at her before I even reached where they were sitting. Tulip, Penny, and Tonks moved a bit away from Nova. She blinked at me, confused.

“What?” Was all she replied.

“You wanted to say yes to him when he asked you to the Ball!” I explained to the best of my abilities. I felt the heat all over my body and I wanted to explode, I was so angry.

Nova didn't say anything. She just stared at me.

“I thought you had feelings for me when I asked you to the Dance!” I couldn't stop myself.

“How do you...”

“How do I know?” I finished her question. “Your crush came into my tent and told me how you were almost meant to be!” I hissed at her and I knew I crossed the line when her brows came together.

“Are you seriously throwing that in my face?” She barked.

“You're not denying it!” I still didn't lower my voice.

“Yes, he did ask me to the Ball!” She stood up. “And YES, I wanted to say yes to him!” Her words hurt me more than I would like to admit.

“I thought you were over him! Did you still have feelings for him when we started dating?” I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to my question. I didn't know how I would feel or react if she told me she did.

“I can't believe you would even ask me that!” She was just as red in the face as I was.

“Answer the question, Nova!” I took a step closer to her.

“You know what, Charles!” She came closer to me too. “You are such an arse sometimes! After what we have been through and what we have...” She waved her hand between us. “You still can't get over Murphy!”

“Apparently, I have a reason not to!” She gasped in surprise. I knew I went too far. She turned to the girls, who tried looking as if they weren't in complete shock, she picked up her jacket and walked past me, bumping hard into my shoulder.

“I didn't know how I felt because of YOU!” She stopped a little behind me. I turned around.

“I was confused because we were friends and I tried pushing myself into him not to ruin our friendship!” She was still facing the school and not me. “But you changed my mind!” She turned to me. I didn't dare to move.

“I saw you fly off the pitch when he asked me to the Dance and I got the same feeling I got when we made up in the Forest.” My heart stopped when I saw tears gathering in her eyes. “I knew then that I couldn't be just friends with you. I knew I didn't just want to go to the Ball with you, I wanted to be with you!” She shouted at me, releasing her tears.

“Nova, I...” I rushed to grab her hand but she pulled away.

“No! Leave me alone, Charlie!” She started towards the Castle. I jumped to catch up. “And don't follow me! I can't even look at you right now!” She put her hand up to stop me and ran away.

I stood there as if someone stupified me. I was such an idiot.

“What have I just done...” I sat down between Tulip, Penny, and Tonks and put my head between my legs.

“I'm sorry Charlie, but that was uncalled for.” Tulip said rather harshly. I didn't mind. I deserved it.

“She never told me that.” I whispered.

“Did you really need that information to stop doubting her feelings for you?” Penny sounded more understanding than Tulip but disappointed nonetheless.

“I don't know what got over me.” Tears started to blur my vision. I can't believe I just hurt my girlfriend like that.

“You have to get over Murphy, mate.” Tonks put her hand on my shoulder. “Otherwise, it will ruin your relationship.”

“You think I still have a relationship after how I just treated her?” I looked at Tonks. My stomach hurt just thinking about how Nova must feel right now.

“Oh, don't be silly. All couples fight.” Penny tried to comfort me.

“We didn't fight, I shouted at her accusing her of something that I had no idea...” My voice broke and all three of them jumped on me to give me a hug.

“You couldn't have known.” Tulip said, gently. “But I am not going to lie that you should've approached the situation better.”

“Did you know about this?” I turned to them now. They all nodded.

“It was a big moment for her.” Penny started to explain. “She was confused because she felt something for both of you. She tried forcing herself to try and go with Murphy because she didn't want to admit to herself that she has feelings for you. She was afraid of losing you as a friend.” Tulip and Tonks nodded at Penny's words.

“She was torn between you two because she thought she felt the same for both of you.” Tonks continued.

“But she didn't?” I asked hopefully.

“Are you kidding?” Tulip scoffed. “She might have had a crush on Murphy but what she felt for you couldn't even compare. She was falling for you faster than Merpeople swim!” She smiled reassuringly. I let out a chuckle at her comparison.

“You have no idea how bottled up her feelings for you were.” I looked at Penny now. “She thought that she liked you both but that day after the game when she saw you leaving the pitch was the first time she saw both of you at once since her confusion started.”

“You should've seen her how she looked when she told us she wants to be with you.” Tonks' lips curved at the memory.

“She was just as deep as you were and at that moment she didn't even remember she ever fancied Murphy.” Tulip said.

“She realized it was you all along.” Penny smiled. “It was always you, Charlie.”

“Nova was right, I am an arse.” I mumbled. They all giggled.

“Perhaps, but you are her arse!” Penny whispered and put her hands on my shoulders. “Now go get your girl back.” She shook me and made me stand up. I rubbed my eyes and started running towards the Castle. I have to find her at once!

16 notes · View notes

obaby-me · 4 years

Note

Your writing's really good! (~^-^)~* Can I get strong MC carrying their demon around bridal style?? (just an idea but imagine Levi being carried by MC in his favorite male character/ruri's cosplay :o, and for Belphie, maybe, him falling asleep during movie night or smth and MC just casually scooping him up to get him to his room?? For Mammon maybe rescuing him and running away from witches?) but u can think of smth by yourself ^^ can't wait :D

Thank you for the compliment anon. ♡

Manhandle the boys? I got ya covered. You had some great ideas, by the way. These turned into basically mini-stories.

Lucifer

“Chicken fight?” Diavolo asked you with a glint in his eye, always eager to learn more of the human world.

“It’s a pool game, where two people carry two other people and try to push the carried person off their person.” You explained, or rather tried to. Even for a mostly sober Lucifer, the explanation was a mess. A tipsy Diavolo found it impossible.

“Show me,” Diavolo asked. “Just show me.”

“It takes a minimum of 4 to play. And it’s done in a pool.” You laughed.

“You can’t do it outside of a pool?” Diavolo whined with a frown.

Never wanting to disappoint, you quietly considered it. “I mean…” Your eyes travelled to Lucifer, lighting up in a way the Avatar of Pride knew meant trouble. But with a shake of his head, knowing what was to come, he stood from his seat, and rotated his shoulders. Carrying you would be a simple task for him.

“If you can lift Barbatos, and I lift Lucifer, we could do a little demonstration. But we can’t actually play. Without the water it’s like, dangerous.” You suggest.

“Lift me?” Scoffed Lucifer, looking a little incredulous, while a delighted Diavolo barked out a laugh.

“Okay!” The prince agreed enthusiastically. His gold eyes flitting to the avatar of pride giving a silent, mortifying, order that sealed Lucifer’s fate.

Groaning into his drink, Lucifer quickly chugged down the last of his drink. You kneeled down to the floor, and Diavolo followed suit, as you instructed Barbatos how to climb on to Diavolo’s back.

“Like this?”

“Yes!” You nodded happily. “Lucifer, your turn! Hop on.”

The word no sat on his tongue but Diavolo’s expecting gaze wouldn’t allow for the word to pass his lips. “Perhaps I ought to be the one to—”

Suddenly one of his legs was yanked out from under him as you swung it over one side of you. You made no move to grab the other. “Stop worrying. I can lift you easy!” You assured him with a cocky grin.

“I don’t know—”

When you ignored his protests and attempted shift yourself between his legs to grip the remaining foot tethering him to the ground, in fear of losing his balance, Lucifer finally complied. He threw his leg over your shoulder, gripping on to your head and wrapping his thighs about your neck. He shot a glare at his liege. If you broke your neck, he refused to be held responsible.

To his surprise however, you stood straight up with ease, balancing him on your shoulders. He was rather impressed. Though that was sort of overridden by his unease at the sudden lack of control he had by being on your shoulders.

“Okay, now in a pool, Barbatos and Lucifer would have to shove each other off.”

A look of determination flashed across Diavolo’s face, and it took all three, Lucifer, Barbatos, and you to reiterate that this was not a game that could be played outside of the water.

Mammon

The witches call at the most inconvenient times. But Mammon knows he must answer.

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled in apology to you as he dropped the shopping bags he’d been carrying into your arms. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

“Should we call someone first before you go?” You asked, waving a hand at the plaza that surrounded you filled with demons. Eyes flickered towards you occasionally, however they quickly averting upon recognizing the Lord of Greed.

He didn’t have time, but he also knew you were right. Groaning and grumbling he texted a request to his brother’s chat for someone to come and get you.

But there was no immediate response. Calls to several of the brothers also went unanswered—even when you made the calls. Mammon grew impatient—because he knew the witches were too.

“Looks like I’ll just have to take ya with me,” he sighed. “Ground rules, first.” Looking serious and he holds his fingers up, “Don’t say anything,” he begins, dropping one finger. “Don’t touch anything. Anything I say, ya agree with. Anything I tell you to do, you do—no questions. If I say run, run.”

You looked nervous—as you should be, so was he. It was a bad idea to take you. But it’s a worse idea to leave you alone.

Seeing the witches generally made Mammon a little queasy—but he can handle anything they throw at him. It’s you he worries about.

“Got it.”

“Don’t you worry, human. The GREAT Mammon won’t let anything happen you,” he said with a grin, trying to rid you of your worries. You give him a small smile in return and he throws an arm around your shoulder as he begins to lead you away.

Meeting with witches didn’t seem to terrify you as they invited the two of you in for tea and treats. Mammon however, declined for the two of you, getting right to the point of their requests. They made their demands rather politely, but the undertones of a threat obviously present.

The nature of their demands however, no matter how honeyed the language, were insane. Limos, and dresses, and jewelry, and tools used by witches, made of luxury woods and metals.

“There’s no way I can get all this!” Mammon shouted as he estimated the total.

“You can, and you will. We trust you’ll find a way,” one of them said sternly.

Another slid herself to your side, an arm drifting to wrap about your waist. “And while you do so, we’ll just enjoy some tea with—”

“Don’t you touch my human,” hissed Mammon. His eye flit to you, a dangerous glint in them, and he nods his head to the door in a silent order.

“Don’t you talk that way to us,” another witch hissed in return.

“Your pact is with me, not—” Mammon started to argue in return.

“Yes, it is.” One witch calmly stated, “and by our pact, I order you to—”

Before her order could be completed, she was thrown back, the literal rug ripped out from under her. Mammon’s eyes widened and turned to see the edge of the floormat sitting in your hands.

“Time to go,” you told him.

Suddenly laid out over your shoulder, hefted about like a sack of potatoes as you ran the two of you of the building.

Mammon wasn’t sure how to feel. He was surprised, that was for sure. Thankful to some degree, but humiliated as well—for being the one in need of saving, for the way he was being carried (ass up). And though he dared not admit, turned on. He could only hope you were too busy running the two of you out of trouble to notice him at half-mast.

Leviathan

A convention has come to the Devildom and ecstatic was a massive understatement. When the convention was announced months back, Levi was already including it in every conversation somehow. As the weeks grew closer, his fanaticism was getting so out of control Lucifer banned him from bringing it up in the group chat, the dining table, and specifically, in Lucifer’s presence.

“Today’s the day!” Shouted Levi, as was his morning ritual of the countdown. While he was not technically in the dining room, everyone could hear him from his room. Annoyed but relieved that finally the day had come that perhaps he’d finally shut up about it, the brothers gave a sigh of relief.

“Come on, come on, Normie!” He pounded at your door. “We have a very strict schedule to keep!”

“Levi, you sound like Lucifer. Give me some time to get dressed! Honestly, if you’re this excited you might accidentally transform.” You scolded him with laughter dancing behind your door—still refusing him entry to drag you out. “It’ll ruin your cosplay if you do you know. Have you even gotten changed yet?”

“I will once we eat breakfast. I don’t want anything to get stained. And you shouldn’t either! Come on out!”

“Levi, I’m already half into the costume. You want me to come out there half naked?”

Levi blushed at the thought. “N-no! Just take it off, normie. Get changed after! We need a perfect picture together as Henry and the Lord of Shadows! And we can’t have one if you’ve got food all over it.”

He heard you sigh and grumble, but he knew he was getting his way. You had been supportive of all his enthusiasm, despite the numerous reprimanding your received from his brothers for “encouraging” and “enabling” his behavior. You always had his back, just like Henry.

Why, you even agreed to cosplay as his Henry to his Lord of Shadows! He thought he was having the most blissful heart attack when you suggested it. You suggested to be his Henry.

He could hardly wait to see you dressed, but the reveal was something he would savor, dressed in his own costume. And it would be worth it. Additionally, once he got his picture of the two of you in your perfectly pristine cosplays, he would be posting it and using it everywhere. As his profile pictures, in his icons, framed in his room. He had it all planned out.

He rushed you through breakfast, through packing, and through the door. But you took it all with a smile. He knew you weren’t as excited about the convention as he was, but the fact that you had the patience to put up with him on this day meant the world to him. He’d already put some Grimm aside to buy you whatever you wanted at the convention as a gift of thanks.

The line was agonizingly long, even with his pre-purchased pass, and changing into your cosplays in your shared hotel room took a while more than expected. He missed an early morning panel and went hysterical.

“Levi, you’ll ruin your cosplay if you transform,” you warn him again from the bathroom as you adjusted make up on your face to get some details just perfect for your Henry imitation.

“We should have gotten here sooner!” He complained. “We should have-“

“Levi, I’m ready.” You called out, interrupting him before he could rant any further.

He swallowed hard, eager to see the result.

You looked perfect.

“Well?” You asked as you gave a small twirl for him to let him see it in whole.

“Every detail i-is, is—” His heart raced, his face reddened. It was not that your outfit was revealing, but you were cute. You were really cute. You were cute and in cosplay with him, for him. It was just an outfit, but the implications hit him like a ton of bricks. He was overwhelmed, practically in tears. Too overwhelmed, really.

He passed right out.

When he finally woke up, he realized he was slung over your back, carried through the convention halls. “W-what is happening?” He screeched in embarrassment into your ear.

You faltered and nearly dropped him. Quickly you adjusted him, bouncing him with your grip on thighs to get him balanced properly against you again. “Don’t shout,” you hissed your ear ringing painfully.

“The next panel was about to start and I couldn’t let you to miss it.” You explained as you trudged along to your next destination. “You’ve been looking forward to this one most of all.”

Touched by the sentiment, Levi tucked his burning face into your shoulder mumbling ‘thank you’s and praises that you were a perfect Henry.

Satan

The Devildom archive is massive, and yet given its size it is still overfilled with books and shelves that line the walls up to his high ceilings. Tall ladders that slide across the rooms on tracks in front of the shelves, to allow easy maneuvering are available, but not many.

“I can see it just there,” frowned Satan as he stared up at the dusty covered volume, embossed letters with faded and chipped gold foil labelling its spine.

On his tiptoes, reaching upwards, his fingers just barely above the shelf and his fingers graze the binding, only to push it further back on to the shelf and out of his reach. He cursed.

“I’ll have to fetch a ladder,” he spat, turning his from side to side to spot on. On the farthest ends of either side of him he could see a few unoccupied steps. The trek just to fetch the damned things was an exercise in itself. Why the hell was the archive this size with so few ladders between them? Or rather, why wouldn’t they restrict ladders to certain sections? Why did they have to make the process so difficult?

“Seems hardly worth the effort,” you commented, as you slipped your arms around his waist.

The action was sudden, but welcomed. Having you wrapped about him was instantly soothing, and his temper dropped immediately. He sighed, letting out the tension, and his hand came to rest on yours. “To get as perfect score on this essay, all efforts are worthwhile. This time I will be top Lucifer’s standing for sure.” He said with a nod.

With a light blush, he pushed his fingers between your digits in an attempt to hold your hand, but your hands instead tightened and gripped tight together, as if rejecting him.

Actually, your entire hold on him tightened. His eyebrows furrowed curiously.

Next thing he knew, his feet were no longer on the ground. His first instinct was to struggle as he was suddenly lifted into the air. “What do you think you’re doing?” He whisper-shouted, wide eyes trying to peer at your face behind him, rage rising with his embarrassment.

“I’m just helping!” You laughed, rubbing your cheek into his back in a reassuring gesture. “Can you reach your book now?”

“Ah, right,” he muttered, his face heating to a deeper red as he hastily tore the book from the shelf and patted at your arm to let him down. “A little warning next time,” he chastised with a small smile, his anger clearly evident in the way he punctuated his request.

You gave a quick “sorry” but your smile showed no real apology. Well, he’ll have to wretch a real one out of you in a bout of punishment later. He hoped you’ll be looking forward to it as much he was thinking of it.

Asmodeus

Your ball ensemble for Diavolo’s ball was magnificent, and Asmo, as your date wore its perfect match. He could not be prouder of his efforts to make you both look stunning for your evening out. He designed the outfits himself, weeks before, and today he’d spent all day preparing the two of you—hair, make up, nails, last minute tailoring. It had been exhausting, but it was well worth it.

All eyes were on the two of you the moment you’d entered the room, and he couldn’t have been more pleased. Not that it was unusual for people to stare at him—but tonight, you were on his arm, and he felt a sense of pride that was new to him.

Because I have you. And they can only dream to.

It took a few drinks to loosen you up to the idea of dancing.

“Just one song,” he begged throughout the evening.

You smiled and promised him just the one, and at three drinks, he had finally could lead you to the dance floor for at least a slow one. Having you in his arms was a delight, though you seemed so focused on your dancing that you were forgetting to have a good time yourself.

To lighten the mood, he made it a point to spin you, and then himself, rocking together with you before repeating the process. A spin for you, a spin for him. The two of you looked childish, almost ridiculous. The type of dancing a 5-year-old’s interpretation of a fairytale dance. Asmo, a man of allure and the pinnacle of sexy, was happy to play goofy if it meant making you smile.

It took another drink to get you on the floor again, but this time it was song that was much more upbeat. There was less concern in you now for your steps, a little sloppy, but full of joy, which is all Asmo wants. He gave you a cocky grin before lifting you slightly into the air and spun you.

Your laughter was the best song all night.

Much to his surprise, you locked your hands on to his waist and lifted him in return, mimicking his spin. Giggling in the thrill. Almost like a child, he asked for another spin and another, posing each time he was held up high for all to see until the song ended.

“Let’s see what else we can do with that strength of yours,” he panted, catching what breath he’d been losing in all his laughter.

“This one’s a bit of a slower one,” you commented. “Spinning might be—”

“Oh, no, honey. We’re done with dancing.”

Beelzebub

Beel’s a quiet guy but that didn’t mean he wasn’t affectionate. He was a hugger and he different types of hugs for different occasions.

He gave short but firm for hellos. He held a little longer for good byes. Thank you’s were half hugs and pats on the back. And I’m sorry’s were engulfing but gentle, never imposing. For comfort, he was

But this hug was a new one. It wasn’t one he’d ever given you before. And it wasn’t one his brothers had ever seen him do since he’d been down in the Devildom—not since Lilith.

He’d been gone for about five days—given some business direct from Diavolo to handle an incident on the other side of the Devildom with Lucifer in tow. Lucifer returned early, but Beel remained for two days more.

When Beel finally lumbered through the door relieved to be home. He was chilled from the rain pouring outside, hungrier than he’d ever felt in the past two decades, and in desperate need of some time to relax.

The first thing he heard was the patter of footsteps, running to meet his arrival.

“Beel, welcome home!” You shouted from the top of the stairs, laughing heartily as you came down to meet him quick as you could. Trailing behind you came Belphie, eager to meet him, but slowed down by his sin to reach him as fast as you did.

It was as if his exhaustion disappeared at seeing your smile, and your rush to meet him was so endearing, it warmed him—at least his face—instantly.

“Glad to be back,” he said with nod, opening his arms.

To his surprise you launched yourself into him, the momentum knocking into him. To keep balance, he gave you a spin, chuckling at your excitement.

“I missed you!” You shouted as he spun you about.

“I missed you too.”

He held you tight against him, and in response to his grip, you gripped him tightly back.

It’s an affectionate game of mimicry you two play often. If you tap a beat on his hand, he’ll tap it back with an addition. If you give him a kiss, he’ll give you two. Back and forth until one of you gives. It was a game generally played behind closed doors, but this was a special occasion—he missed you too much. Now it was game of who can give a tighter hug.

And he was determined to win.

He adjusted his arms around you to hold you just a little lower—and then lifted you off the ground. You giggled, pleased. It was only for a moment before he set you down. He grinned at you.

But his smile soon turned to shock when you in turn put your arms about his waist, lifting him and spinning.

Too stunned to respond, Beel lost the round.

“Never expected that out of you,” whistled an impressed Belphie, having finally descended down the stairs.

Beel could only nod, wide eyed in agreement.

You gave him a cocky grin, planting your hands on your hips and puffing your chest with pride. Beel too beamed with pride at his partner’s strength. He begins to invite you to workouts together, curious to see just how much you could lift.

Belphegor

Movie nights followed a very specific pattern. It was a scramble to get the boys together, and just when you think you’ve settled in, someone remembers something they’ve forgotten: popcorn, blankets, phones, chips, drinks, coasters, pillows. And of course, the matter of seating arrangements was always a battle. You had your designated seat, but the demons around you didn’t—each fought to take the seats beside you in some way shape or form.

“You had your turn last week!” Fumed Levi, glaring daggers at his younger brother Belphie.

It did little to persuade the seventh born who seemed to instead nuzzled his face deeper into your lap, a hint of a teasing smirk his only answer.

Grumbles and protests eventually died down as Lucifer threatened each one into settling in. Finally, they could all relax as the movie began to roll.

Lucifer fell asleep midway through. Mammon and Levi shouted out quotes in bouts of laughter. Satan shushed his elder brothers, and Asmo sighed and provided commentary on outfits and hair styles. Beel ate most of the popcorn and chips, munching away happily. Belphegor managed to last to its ending, but the minute the lights were brought back up, he went right to sleep, skipping the inevitable post-movie debates and commentaries by his brothers.

As it grew later into the evening, the boys slowly trickled out to their rooms to bed. You however, remained a pillow to the cat-napping avatar.

“I’ll carry him up,” offered Beel, the last of the conscious.

“No, I’ve got it.” You told him with a smile, a hand slowly stroking through Belphie’s hair as he slept. “I’m not quite tired yet. I’ll leave him undisturbed for just a bit longer.”

Beel nodded, and returned to his own room.

You browsed your phone for awhile longer, one hand mindlessly running through Belphie’s soft locks.

When you were good and ready for bed, you slowly sidled out from below Belphie. Carrying him was the easy part. The only difficulty you had was trying not to disturb him as you slipped your hands beneath him to lift him. You seemed to have succeeded, and Belphie was determined to let you believe it, amused that you were going to such lengths for him.

He’d been awake for some time, mostly from the time you started trailing your fingers through his hair. He didn’t dare move and let you know he was awake. He feared you’d stop if he did. So instead he laid and enjoyed your gentle petting him the way you might a beloved pet.

When you moved out from under him, he considered waking up to walk himself up, but the thought of you lifting him amused him greatly. He assumed you couldn’t, and to have you try and fail to do so would be the perfect time for him to wake up and tease you.

Much to his surprise however, you lifted him with ease, carrying him all the way to his room. He would be keeping this in mind for the next time he decided it was too much trouble to make the trip himself—play dead and he can get a free ride.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #guess who's back #took me awhile to do this one #but it was a lot of fun #tryin' to come up with ways to have the boys lifted up #as well as get them some varied reactions was an interestin' challenge #i'm so sorry this took so long

215 notes · View notes

delicatelyherdreams · 4 years

Text

Pragma(tic) 8: He Gets Found Out (and a Phone Call)

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 2343

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 7: Her Thoughts Conflict

Bucky was rudely awoken by something grainy and bulky hitting his nose and an angry voice demanding, “What the fuck are these?”

He reached up and wrapped his fingers around the object, his skin coming in contact with smooth, familiar leather. His stomach dropped and he opened his eyes to see the pouch of seeds (y/n) had given him and Sam and Steve glowering down at him, rage emitting off both their bodies. He didn’t even know what to say.

Steve’s glare was the most intense. “Those seeds, they’re not of the Mortal World, and they’re not from Olympus. There are six seeds in here. You’ve been going down to the Underworld, haven’t you?”

Bucky stared at the seeds, his heart gripped with terror. He didn’t know if they knew how many seeds had been in the pouch before or if they’d known that he’d been down there six times over the last three months since he’d gotten them but at this point, it didn’t matter. They knew he had them. Bucky opened his mouth but his words would not obey him.

“Haven’t you?” Steve demanded.

Shit.

“Alright,” Bucky cried. “Yes, I’ve been going down there. But you don’t understand, I—”

Sam laughed bitterly. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. After all we’ve been through, man? We were sworn to protect you and to obey your mother’s one rule: never ever deal with the Underworld. And what do you do? You do it anyways! Do you realize how that makes Steve and me look? What if your mother came back while you were on one of your little excursions and we had no idea where you were? We’re supposed to know your location at all times; she’d kill us if we lost you. And if we lost you to the Underworld? Buck, this is serious!”

Bucky hung his head. He knew it was serious and he felt incredibly guilty for putting his best friends in the position they were in now, but he couldn’t make himself regret it one bit.

Steve’s eyes cut daggers coated with disappointment through Bucky’s skull. “Your mother has one absolute rule, Buck, and that is the only rule you decide to break. And then you don’t even tell us.” His voice broke and he huffed a sigh. “We probably would have supported you, man; you just had to tell us what was going on. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered. “I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you guys, but I just…” He shook his head. “When I went down there the first time, there was just… It was amazing. It felt more like a home than any field has ever been. You guys are going to think that I’m insane, but there’s just something about the place that makes me feel good. I don’t know what it is, I don’t know if I’ll ever know, but it’s amazing.” Bucky looked up at his friends, apologies unspoken filling his eyes but accompanied by a resolute firmness that was unshakable. “And I’m going to keep on going down there.”

“Bucky, I—”

“No, Steve. I’m sorry, but I refuse to stop going down there. You guys can try to keep me here all you want, but I’m going to find ways around you. I refuse to leave (y/n) and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

Sam frowned in confusion, his brows furrowing and his head moving backward as he looked down at his friend. “(y/n)? Who the hell is (y/n)?”

Bucky felt his ears redden and he bowed his head. “She’s… um…”

“Never mind her right now,” Steve said, waving them off. “Bucky, look at us.”

Bucky obeyed.

Steve smiled at him sympathetically, his eyes turning kind. “Look, Sam and I have already talked about this. We’ve known you’ve been going down there for a while, now—you reek of death every time you come back. We aren’t mad that you go down there and we aren’t going to stop you. We’re mad because you didn’t trust us enough to tell us so.”

Bucky looked at his friend, awe encompassing his face. “You’re serious? You’re not going to stop me?”

“Hades no. You’re a grown man, you can make your own decisions. We just need to know when you’re going so that way, if your mother comes looking for you, we can make you an alibi and she won’t get suspicious. But we need you to tell us because she might actually smite us if we lost you.”

Sam cleared his throat, the idea of an angry Winnifred leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Seriously, so long as you take a shower after you get back so you don’t reek and you don’t bring us back any souvenirs, we don’t care if you go down there. We care if it starts to get us in trouble and when we’re left in the dark.”

Bucky stared up at his best friends, completely astonished. “R-Really?”

“Yes. Keep going all you want, just give us a heads up.”

He couldn’t believe that they were okay with this. He’d been so afraid of being found out by them, but he’d never really had anything to fear. His face split into the widest grin ever. Clutching the bag of Asphodel seeds close to his chest, he smiled at his friends. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Buck,” Steve said sitting next to his friend. “Remember, we’re with you ‘til the end of the line and we’ll always be here to support you, no matter what stupid things you decide to do.”

Bucky laughed, but wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulder pulling him in for a half-hug. “You’re the best; the both of you.”

Sam sat down next to him as well and smirked. “Oh, we know. Now, who’s (y/n)? Is she some spirit you found down there and fell in love with?”

Bucky’s ears reddened. “Well, not exactly.”

“Some spirit you befriended?”

“N-No, she’s—”

“And, what about Harriet?” Steve asked, his eyebrows shooting up as he scooted closer, eager to hear the story. “I thought she was the one you were sneaking off to see?”

“Will you two let me explain? Gods, you’d swear I was mute.” Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed like a child.

Steve and Sam snapped their jaws shut and looked at him expectantly.

Bucky took a deep breath before starting. “Harriet does not exist. I made her up.”

“But I thought you just couldn’t get her out of your mind,” Steve said, his voice jumping an octave in a poor imitation of Bucky.

“There’s a different girl I can’t get out of my mind.”

“This ‘(y/n)?’”

Bucky nodded.

Sam nodded. “So, who is she?”

This is where Bucky started to get nervous. How was he going to tell them that the girl who he thought about was the Queen of the Underworld? “Well… Um… You guys have actually met her before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying so hard to figure out how to tell them who (y/n) was without them flipping their shit. “She’s… Er… She’s got unusual eyes, and you met her once… When she threw me out.”

“When she—” Sam’s eyes blew wide. “You’ve gotta be shitting me! (y/n) is Hades?”

Steve shared the same flabbergasted expression as his friend but he said nothing.

Bucky, however, was quick to her defense. “Guys, she’s not as bad as you think. She’s kind, she’s smart, she’s human. She’s probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met, immortal or otherwise. Sure, she’s cold and strict when you first meet her, but over these past few months I’ve learned a lot about her. She’s funny, she’s sarcastic, she’s complicated. There’s a lot that makes her her. And I think she gets a bad reputation because of where she lives and what she rules over. But she does her job well and is fair, kind, and just. (y/n) is amazing, and I don’t want you to think otherwise. I refuse to stop seeing her.”

Both his friends went silent for a bit, letting it sink in that their friend was mixed in with way more powerful beings than either of them had expected.

Bucky awaited their response anxiously, his confidence from defending her slowly crumbling away. He was scared. Although they were okay with letting him go down to the Underworld, they might have been less okay with him fraternizing with a goddess like her.

Time passed. It felt like hours, but it was only seconds.

Steve was the first to break the silence with a heavy sigh. Raising his head, he eyed his friend anxiously and asked, “So you’re fonduing with the goddess of the dead?”

Bucky choked. That was not the response he’d been expecting. “I’m what?”

“Fonduing. You know,” he gestured vaguely. “Is she your girlfriend? Are you guys doing the ‘do?’”

Sam barked with laughter. “Oh, my gods, Steve! Of course they aren’t!” Then, as if to confirm his allegations, he leaned towards Bucky and whispered, “You aren’t, right?”

“No! Oh my gods, (y/n) and I are just friends. We literally just got to friends. She kicked me out like five times before I even got to the friend status. I’m not going to screw that up.” Bucky smiled then when he thought about (y/n)—her reluctant smiles and her teasing nature. He was glad that he had befriended her.

Steve chuckled. “She sounds like she can carry her weight,” he mused. “Look, Buck, I’m still not crazy about you hanging around Hades, but I know I can’t stop you. So, just promise me you’ll be safe?”

“Always.” Bucky smiled and pocketed the leather bag of seeds. He was happy to have his friends’ support, and it was comforting to know that they wouldn’t stop him.

———

That night, Bucky lay in his meadow under the stars, staring up at the stars. Sam and Steve were already asleep, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

Naturally those thoughts traveled to (y/n).

He wondered how she was doing right now. Was it nighttime in the Underworld? Was she asleep, or was she awake too? What could she be thinking about? Could she be thinking of him?

Bucky sighed heavily and turned onto his side. Why couldn’t he get her out of his head? Why did she occupy almost all of his waking hours?

Because you care for her, and you just don’t know it.

Bucky wondered if that was even possible—to care so deeply about someone he knew so little about. Hell, he’d only known her for a short amount of time, but he knew that there was little he wouldn’t do for her. The Queen of the Underworld had him wrapped around her little finger and he was fine with it.

He wanted her to be happy, he wanted her to be safe, he wanted her to love and be loved.

He wondered if there was a special someone in her life, someone who could treat her like the queen she was. He hoped there was. He wanted her to experience that kind of happiness in life.

...Even if it meant it wasn’t with him.

For some reason, his heart ached at the thought of her with another. It felt like a knife was being driven through his chest and salt was being poured on the wound. It hurt him more than he expected, and so he decided to turn his thoughts away from the negative and focus on the positive.

He could see her whenever he wanted now with the seeds. And she was warming up to him! She’d told him he could go down the last time, maybe she’d invite him down the next time.

And then… Maybe he could invite her up here. He got the feeling that (y/n) rarely ever left her realm; maybe he could change that. She deserved a night on the town and Bucky would’ve been more than happy to show her around his favorite spots in the world.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he turned onto his side. The grass tickled his face and he closed his eyes as he sank into the peace. Maybe he could just go to sleep and call it all good.

But the silence surrounding him was broken by the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. It demanded his attention, screaming for him, calling him, begging to be seen.

Bucky groaned loudly as he dug into the pockets of his pajama pants. Fishing his phone from there, he peered at the ridiculously bright screen.

(y/n)’s caller ID was flashing on the screen, signaling that she was calling him.

Bucky frowned, but answered the call anyway. “Hello?” he asked, his voice heavy with the sleep that never was.

The line was silent for a few seconds.

“Hello?” he called again, trying to get a response. His heart filled with worry. Why wasn’t she answering him?

“B-Bucky?”

He sat up straighter, suddenly wide awake.

She was scared; he could hear it in her voice. His protective instincts started to kick in and he clutched the phone tighter. “(y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Her voice trembled as she struggled to say, “I-I…” She couldn’t seem to even form a sentence as she stuttered.

“It’s alright, Doll. I’m here now. Use your words. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“I… I need you.”

Her voice was broken, but Bucky was up on his feet and moving towards a vacant corner of the meadow. Jeans and a button-up shirt that matched his eyes materialized over his pajamas and he pulled her bag of seeds out of his pocket. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone, fishing out a seed and throwing it on the ground. A hole immediately opened up and he jumped in, falling down down down to the Underworld.

Next 9: The Past Comes Back to Haunt Her

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #hades & persephone #hades and persephone #hades & persephone au #persephone!bucky x hades!reader #bucky x reader #pragma(tic)

591 notes · View notes

there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years

Text

Three (Bad Ideas) - Part 2/3

Jensen Ackles x Jared Padalecki (pre-J2 x reader)

Word Count: ~3470

Warnings: It’s not super explicit, it doesn’t get much farther than some groping and grinding on-camera, but there’s some decidedly adult content here.

A/N: The second part of the prequel to Everything. The first part is right over here. All my gratitude to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the reading and encouragement, as always, and also for the J2 spamming esp. possessive!Jensen.

“What, like, hot alien threesome?” Jensen laughs.

“All those different species, with like. Droids. And fuckin’... Wookiees and shit.” Jared tries to make a Wookiee noise but he’s giggling too hard to get it out. In his defense, it’s two in the morning and he’s very drunk.

“Hutt porn?”

“Hentai with actual tentacles! I mean, come on, you could scroll through category menus for hours.”

Jensen snorts and shakes his head. “I always thought the green chick was hot.”

“The twi’lek! Fuck yeah.”

“You are such a dork,” Jensen laughs. He goes to elbow Jared, but Jared dodges, stumbles, and almost walks into a streetlamp.

“Dude,” he splutters. “Dude, fuck, can you imagine… holy shit! If somebody liked to be choked, and -”

“Hate to break it to you, but that barely counts as kinky in this universe,” Jensen says, with a wicked grin.

Jared’s brain stores that away with a neon sign saying we are going to think about this later! but manages not to short out completely.

“No, no, you know how Darth Vader -“ Jared stops in the middle of the sidewalk, mimicking the Force-choking gesture, trying to imitate a stern Vader-y expression and failing miserably. He clutches his stomach, wheezing with laughter.

“Such a dork,” Jensen repeats, trying to hold back his laughter. “Get your ass moving, I’m fuckin’ freezing.”

Jared falls back into step. “Your fault you’re already dressed for Austin.”

“Vancouver in April might as well be Hoth,” Jensen says, and Jared cracks up all over again.

“Who’s the dork now? I’m rubbing off on you!” he crows, and immediately adds, “That’s what she said.”

Jensen huffs, mock-exasperated, but he sneaks a sideways look at Jared, grinning.

One second they’re walking side by side, and the next, Jensen’s grabbing him, hand tight on Jared’s wrist as he crowds right into Jared’s space. Jared steps back instinctively, almost stumbles, but Jensen just follows, walking him backward with this wild-eyed intensity on his face.

Jared’s back hits a cold brick wall. Jensen’s mouth is hot and desperate when it collides with his.

The kiss is clumsy and messy and perfect, and it’s like Jared’s brain gets stuck in a loop: what, what, what, because they’re kissing, and he’s paralyzed by the shock for a long frozen moment while his stomach lurches and his heart pounds and his head spins. Then Jensen’s teeth catch on his lip, stinging in a way that sends electricity skittering along his synapses, jolting him back into the moment like a fucking AED.

Jensen’s kissing him like he wants to devour him, sucking and biting like he could eat Jared alive, and Jared’s stomach flips with every ruthless drag of his teeth, every deep lush lick, every new brush of those pillowy lips. Jared pulls him in close and kisses him back with everything he’s got.

Jensen slides both hands into Jared’s hair, strong fingers twining through the strands and tugging sharply just as his leg shoves up between Jared’s, and Jared lets out this ragged, needy moan, the most ridiculously slutty noise that’s ever escaped his lips. He should be embarrassed by how fucking desperate he sounds, but Jensen’s hips jerk forward, grinding up against him as he hisses out an answering curse. If Jared wasn’t being shoved up against the wall he’d probably fall the fuck down with the way his knees turn to jelly.

Jensen pulls away. Before Jared’s brain can catch up with his body, he’s swaying forward in an attempt to follow his mouth.

“Yeah?” Jensen growls. His voice is even deeper than usual, a barely-there rumble, and Jared shivers.

Jared doesn’t know what the fucking question is, but he manages, “Yes.”

There’s one more searing kiss, teeth and blistering heat, and then Jensen’s grabbing his wrist and tugging him away from the wall and down the quiet sidewalk. Jared feels like his muscles aren’t quite working right, floppy and uncoordinated as he staggers after Jensen.

He can still feel the residual heat of Jensen’s body all down his front, and the Vancouver night feels even colder in the wake of all that fiery pressure. His lips are bruised and puffy. His skin is jumping with… god, he doesn’t even know what to call it: disbelief, lust, wonder, need, shock, too fucking much all at once, more than Jared can take.

He sneaks a quick look at Jensen, and Jensen’s staring right back at him, eyes smoldering as he looks up through his lashes. He flicks his tongue out over his red, swollen lower lip and shoots Jared a little half-smile, and Jared has to stop again to reel Jensen in and kiss that smile until Jensen’s gasping against his mouth.

“Bed,” Jensen says roughly. “I need to get you in a bed right fucking now.”

“Yeah. Okay. Bed.”

“You sure about this?” Jensen asks. He’s staring at Jared’s mouth again.

Jared’s not sure what to say to that. Instead of admitting that no, he’s not sure about anything, and in fact he’s scared out of his damn mind, and this is probably a bad idea, he just ducks his head to kiss Jensen again.

Jared’s spent so many hours reliving the feel of Jensen’s mouth against his, Jensen’s skin under his hands, Jensen’s low moan and shuddery sigh… there’s a million and one fragments of visceral gut-punch memory embedded in his nerve endings from the night Jared got drugged.

He’s gotten better at pushing them away. At first it was every time, every time he got too close, every time he smelled Jensen; a feverish flash of sensation would hit him hard and fast. Now the memories mostly come out at night, when he’s alone. They’re still almost too intense to bear.

It’s surreal, the way those memories pale in comparison to the real thing.

Jensen’s on top of him, hips twisting, and they’re both hard in their jeans; they haven’t managed to stop touching long enough to get their clothes off, and the drag of too-rough denim-on-denim friction is driving Jared insane. The little growl in the back of Jensen’s throat is the same. The incredible mix of grace and aggression in the way he moves is the same. The way he makes Jared feel is the same: this all-consuming need through his body, fierce and dizzying, like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

He blamed it on the drugs, the electricity and mind-melting heat of the first time. He convinced himself that it was partly in his head, that it was the chemicals: the perfection of it, the way they slotted together like they were made for each other, the way every goddamn touch felt like a revelation.

He was wrong on all counts. He feels drugged all over again.

Jensen sits back on his heels abruptly, tugging his shirt over his head. Jared can barely take his eyes off the freckles and the muscles and the fucking hipbones long enough to deal with his own shirt, but it’s worth it when he pulls Jensen down again and feels all that smooth bare skin on his.

Jared rakes his nails down Jensen’s shoulder blades and then flattens his hands on Jensen’s back to squeeze him closer, arching up, rolling his hips. Jensen pulls back just long enough to inhale, quick and sharp.

“Sure about this?” Jared asks breathlessly. He’s not sure what he’ll do if Jensen says no, but he feels like he should ask.

Jensen doesn’t answer. He ducks right back down, sinking his teeth into the spot under Jared’s ear that makes him whine and twitch.

Jensen’s hand curls around the other side of his neck, thumb fitting right under the line of his jaw and forcing his head back, exposing his throat and leaving him at the mercy of Jensen’s mouth. Jensen’s tongue swirls over the skin he just bit, soothing the sting with a soft tickling lick, before nibbling the same spot again, gentler this time. Jared already feels strung-tight and shaky.

He can feel how hard Jensen is, stiff heat straining against the front of his jeans, but Jensen’s taking his time. His fingers press harder, holding Jared down, holding him in place, and the pressure of his hand is doing devastating, crazy-making things to Jared’s insides. He nips and sucks and works sensitive patches of skin between his teeth until Jared’s twisting and gasping under him.

Jared bucks up, frustrated, and grits out, “Please.”

The way Jensen groans, low and helpless, might be the hottest thing Jared’s ever heard. He grinds down again, so fucking good Jared’s eyes roll back in his head, and then he finally pulls away, fingers sliding up from Jared’s neck to grip his hair instead.

Jared blinks up at him. Even after all these years, he can’t believe it, sometimes; Jensen’s too beautiful to be real. He’s even more beautiful now, hair sticking up, lips swollen, looking down at Jared with his pupils blown and his cheeks flushed, something like surprise in his eyes. Jared’s too stunned to even wonder what his own face must look like.

“Tell me what you want,” Jensen whispers. His voice is a barely-there rasp, steely and dark, and it makes Jared want to get on his knees, spread his legs, beg for anything and everything Jensen might choose to do to him.

“You,” he manages. It’s always been the truth.

Jared makes it less than forty-eight hours before he snaps. He’s in the car before he can think about it, driving the familiar roads to Jensen’s house on autopilot.

He almost turns right around when he pulls into the driveway. The reality of what he’s doing sets in, and it’s so huge and overwhelming that there’s this rushing in his ears and this wheezing in his lungs and everything else fades away for a moment. He parks and leans forward, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his forehead on them. He tries to breathe.

Gonna see if I can catch an earlier flight. Just need to think.

Sorry.

He woke up alone two days ago, and he’s read the note so many times since that it’s like those three sentences are just on a constant loop in the back of his head. He’s not sure he can face Jensen right now; hearing the words in person might just kill him. It was bad enough the first time.

Don’t worry about it. What are brothers for?

But at least that time there was an excuse. Jared could write off all his neediness, all his desperation, on drug-induced temporary insanity.

Jensen must’ve just figured there was nothing wrong with a casual fuck. They were drunk, they were horny, they’d done it before, might as well. But then he’d seen the way Jared looked at him, and he must have finally realized. He panicked; that’s the only explanation Jared can think of.

Jared knows himself. He knows that everything he feels shows in his expression, clear as fucking day, and if he didn’t have so much practice hiding that particular emotion, Jensen probably would’ve noticed a long time ago. Jared let his guard down that night, drunk, in the heat of the moment. Jensen must’ve seen it plastered all over his face.

Thing is, though, Jared couldn’t live without his best friend. Doesn’t matter that he’s in love with Jensen. Doesn’t matter how he feels. The simple fact is, even if it’s never anything more than friendship, Jared needs Jensen in his life. If he screwed that up because of his stupid inconvenient feelings, if he really did scare Jensen away this time… well, he can’t think about that. That train of thought leads to cold sweats and sheer panic.

Jared sits up. He grips the steering wheel, white-knuckled, then releases it, stretching out his fingers as he sighs. He looks guiltily at his hands. He stopped biting his fingernails a long time ago, but right now his nails are gnawed to the quick and his cuticles are edged with scabs.

It’s eating him up inside. He feels raw and achy and shredded, and he needs to just bite the bullet and hear the words so that he can apologize. He has a whole speech planned out. Then maybe they can just go have a beer or something and it’ll all go back to normal. It has to go back to normal.

Fuck.

He grabs his phone and texts before he can think too hard about it: Can we talk?

Jared sits up and looks at himself in the rearview mirror quickly. His eyes, sunken in bruised purple-blue rings, are puffy and red-rimmed. His hair is a greasy fucking mess, tangled where it peeks out from under his beanie. He looks like absolute shit. Doesn’t matter; Jensen’s seen him at his worst, and his looks aren’t really the point right now.

His phone buzzes and Jared’s stomach lurches.

Yes. I’ll come over.

Jared almost chokes on his borderline-hysterical giggle. He gets out of the car, texting as he walks to the front door.

Um okay but I’m maybe in your driveway?

He steels himself with a deep breath. The door swings open before he can knock.

Unlike Jared, Jensen doesn’t usually wear his emotions on his face. It took time and trust before Jared could read the little nuances of his expressions, and he knew, even then, that it was just as much Jensen letting him in as Jared figuring him out.

Now, though, Jensen might as well be a fucking billboard. He looks terrified and desperate and hopeful, and there’s something tender and familiar shining in his eyes. He looks just like Jared feels.

Jared had a whole fucking speech planned, and he can’t remember a single word of it. He blinks, paralyzed, before taking one hesitant step forward.

They both move at once, abrupt and clumsy, crashing into each other so hard it knocks the air from Jared’s lungs, and if he thought Jensen kissed him hungrily before, he’s starving now, teeth clashing and tongue plunging in deep, with this deep, gorgeous whine in the back of his throat when Jared just parts his lips and lets him take what he needs.

Neither of them bother asking this time. They’re sure.

It’s a bad idea and Jared knows it, even as he hauls Jensen in by the belt loops, but this is the longest he’s gone without kissing Jensen since they got together. He’s pretty sure he’s going to lose his goddamn mind before they make it to the last panel of the day. They’re near the green room in a relatively secluded little nook of the hallway, so at least there’s no danger of fans spotting them, but someone from the cast or Creation staff could walk by. It’s a stupid risk.

They still haven’t told anybody. They want to try to keep it from the press, at first, for the sake of privacy, and there’s going to be a shitstorm of epic proportions when the fans find out, but they don’t have any illusions about being able to hide it from anybody involved in the show. Still, they wanted to at least tell the important people on their own terms, Singer and Speight and the ones whose opinions actually matter, before it gets out. They’d be assholes to let their friends hear it third-hand through the production gossip grapevine.

But he’s not thinking about any of that. He’s not thinking at all, really. It’s the first time in over a week that Jared’s had to hold back, to be careful about how and when and where he touches Jensen, and it’s driving him a little bit crazy.

Jensen’s feeling the same way, if the way he returns the kiss is any indication. He makes a rough, eager sound in the back of his throat and tucks his fingers into Jared’s back pockets, squeezing his ass and rocking up against him, before sliding his hands under the hem of Jared’s shirt to splay over his lower back and pull him closer. Jared runs his hands up Jensen’s arms, gripping his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex under his fingers.

They break apart just an inch, enough to breathe, both of them panting, noses still brushing. Jared knows they should stop before they get caught, but he can’t bring himself to put any real space between their bodies.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to have you to myself again,” Jensen growls, and he pushes up on his tiptoes, lips right against Jared’s ear as he whispers, “Gonna bend you over the desk and make you watch in the mirror. Should see how pretty you look when I get my fingers in you.”

Jared lets out a frustrated grunt, cock twitching as Jensen nips his earlobe.

“You’re killing me,” he mutters.

Jensen kisses him again, gentler this time, but it makes Jared shiver with the strain of holding back.

Blame Jensen and his mouth for the way Jared’s so lost he doesn’t hear the door handle right across the hallway. He’s not sure what Jensen’s excuse is.

He practically bites through Jensen’s lip with surprise when he hears the quick little gasp. Jensen stumbles back hurriedly, wiping his mouth, eyes huge in a way that would look comical if Jared didn’t feel icy all over with panic.

“Oh thank fuck,” he breathes, when he sees who it is. He’s so relieved that it takes him a second to process the expression on her face; she’s bright red, looking down at her feet, flushing and avoiding eye contact instead of giving them shit about it like he would’ve expected.

“Sorry,” she squeaks. “I’ll just… yeah. Give you some privacy.”

She’s already bolting when Jared finds his voice again.

“Wait,” he manages, and she grimaces as she turns to face them again.

“We haven’t told anyone,” Jensen says.

“Secret’s safe with me,” she says, with a too-bright smile, before she’s whirling around and rushing down the hall.

Jared stares after her, puzzled, and more than a little disappointed.

“What was that about?” he wonders out loud. “If it was anyone else I’d assume homophobic freakout, but…”

“You really can’t figure out why she might not want to see you kissing someone?” Jensen asks sharply. His lips are swollen, red and shiny and distracting as hell.

Jared’s heart is still pounding with the leftover adrenaline. He shakes his head, feeling slow and stupid.

Jensen sighs. “Never mind.”

“I should talk to her,” Jared says unhappily. “I… I missed her. I didn’t think -”

Something that looks like hurt flashes through Jensen’s eyes. “We gotta get to the next panel. I’m sure you’ll see her tonight.”

“Right. You’re right. Okay.” Jared runs his fingers through his hair and tucks it behind his ears. He feels fidgety and strange.

Jensen grabs him, lightning-fast, and captures his mouth in one last kiss.

“Mine,” he whispers.

“Yours,” Jared agrees softly.

After the panel, Jared finds her right behind the stage, sitting cross-legged in the corner and rolling a water bottle between her palms, deep in thought. When he drops to the floor and sits next to her, nudging her with one elbow, she smiles at him warmly. There’s no trace of the awkwardness from earlier. The knot of anxiety in Jared’s chest loosens slightly.

“When?” is all she says.

“Hooked up again the night we wrapped, pulled our heads out of our asses two days later,” Jared says, grinning down at his lap. “You okay?”

“Just surprised me, that’s all,” she says, studiously avoiding eye contact again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird about it. Just felt bad interrupting.”

“Missed you,” Jared says, honestly, and tilts over to rest his cheek on top of her head. She twists around and gives him a sideways hug, squeezing hard, and Jared feels a weight lifting from his shoulders.

“Missed you too,” she whispers. “Happy for you.”

She’s so soft under his hands. She melts into him and the kiss stretches like taffy, slow and sweet. He runs his hands up and down her sides, feeling how warm she is, and slides his palms down to cup her ass.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispers, and then Jensen’s staring back at him, eyes flashing, furious.

Jared wakes up, wrapped around Jensen under the thick hotel comforter, rock-hard and panting. Guilt twists in his stomach. He feels feverish with it, hot and cold all over.

Jared lets out a shaky sigh, hips rocking forward ever so slightly; he can’t help himself. Jensen stirs and hums contentedly, squirming back against him.

Jensen’s all he’s wanted for so fucking long. There’s something wrong with him, thinking about someone else when he has this.

“Good dream?” Jensen whispers, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Yeah.”

“What was it about?”

“You,” Jared lies.

Next part HERE.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message here!

#j2 #j2 fic #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x jared padalecki #spn #spn rpf

95 notes · View notes

dercolaris · 3 years

Text

The final girl

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Characters: Nancy Wheeler, OC (Mikołaj Brakowski)

Relationship: Nancy Wheeler & OC (Victim and Killer)

Genre: Horror, Tension

Word length: 2156

Warnings: Violence, Bad Words, Character Death

Status: Complete

Short Summary: She is on the run, but there is only one way out of this factory: death.

They were all dead. Nancy tried to take a deep breath and somehow calm herself down, but the adrenaline continued to shoot mercilessly through her veins. Nobody had survived that horrible night - nobody but her. The brown-haired woman dragged herself, panting heavily, onto one of the countless lifting platforms in the old factory hall, repeatedly pressing the red glowing button. She whispered softly to herself: “Come on, you stupid thing. I don't have time to wait.” Her gaze flicked nervously over the confusing area around her. The narrow corridors with the innumerable pipes and machines were a nightmare for a survivor in this perfidious game. The young woman had no idea how she got here. Just like everyone else. This collective amnesia seemed to have a supernatural source or to have been provoked by some insane murderer. They weren't alone in this halls. The journalist bit her trembling lower lip and slowly looked up. The key to opening the final door should be somewhere up there – at least if she could trust William's speculation. Of the entire group, he had the most experience in unfamiliar terrain and seemed to have been correct in his guess in the end. The abandoned factory looked like a typical industrial site, but the entire floor plan made absolutely no sense. It seemed as if an attempt had been made to imitate a real existing place without adhering to the logic of such a complicated construction. Could it really be possible that someone was trying to deceive them all? If so, for what purpose? It was all so confusing! Nancy rubbed her sweaty forehead, then gave a surprised gasp. A loud noise came from the depths of the factory, echoed from the many metal parts around her. Her green eyes observed the visible surroundings in pure terror. So far she had only seen the madman's silhouette-like shadow and heard his amused voice in the far distance. The small group of four seemingly randomly chosen people had been persecuted from the start. One after the other fell victim to the damn quiet and agile killer. A strong jolt went unexpectedly violently through the lifting platform, creeping up the platform one level higher. The survivor felt her heart beating far too fast in her chest. A loud whistle came from some pipes, hot smoke shot mercilessly from the otherwise icy metal. Nancy blinked slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the rusty bridge. Hopefully, William was not mistaken with his assumption. The young woman climbed the last few inches herself and stumbled awkwardly onto the platform. She quickly got up again. No one could afford such mistakes in her position!

The madman was probably hot on her heels and was only waiting for such missteps to finally catch up and complete the work he had begun. The brown-haired woman crept cautiously over the unstable ground. The whole factory was in dire condition, and every step could practically be the last if heavy steel girders chose to no longer withstand gravity. The decay of time seemed to be present everywhere here. There was a loud crack without warning, followed by an unpleasant sound of metal bending. Was the platform about to collapse right now? Nancy realized the imminent danger and sprinted off, feeling the ground slowly give way under her feet. The survivor saved herself at the very last moment. Half of the bridge tumbled the short way down to the cold concrete floor, swirling accumulated dust into the icy air. The fresh blood of the lost souls in the factory hall mingled with the scent of ancient dirt. The journalist gave a hard snort and stood up on week knees, staring down at the metal with empty eyes. She held her arm, which was still bleeding slightly, for a brief moment, digging her fingers deeper into the completely soaked bandage. The madman had almost caught the young woman once too. She had gotten away with a minor injury and a tremendous shock. Nancy finally ran her shaky fingers through her filthy hair. True fear of death was difficult to put into words. The brown-haired woman averted her gaze and crept on to her destination. Her ears were still listening intently to the sounds around her, but the individual sources were difficult to pinpoint. Also, how was she supposed to know if the danger was real or just a random object making some weird noises? This factory offered such a range of unusual and unique sounds that there was hardly any way to classify them correctly. The journalist has had indescribable headaches since the beginning of this one-sided hunt.

Something slowly bored into her brain and slowly sucked part of her soul out of her weakened body. That thought vanished as quickly as it came. She really couldn't waste time thinking unnecessarily. The little office finally came into view. Inwardly, the brown-haired woman wanted to cheer for joy, but her common sense forbade any outbursts of emotion. The killer was certainly close by and might just need a little clue to finally find her. Nancy reached the promising glass door and looked for a way to get into the room. The door handle was missing. Fucking hell! The survivor searched the whole front wall, then crept cautiously around the corner and sighed, almost in relief. An open window. She put her right hand on the wood, but then winced in pain. Broken glass. The journalist wiped the bleeding wound on her dirty sweater and this time took a closer look at the windowsill. How could she have missed this little detail? The young woman reached into her pocket and took out a bandage, folded it up several times. The extra protection finally made it possible for her to enter the office. One of those unsightly hooks was set up in this too. The construction had a strange attraction. Almost as if something evil was resting in the wood and thirsting for her. A strong, burnt smell of menthol suddenly spread across the small room. "Shall I hang you on there too, bitch?" The brown-haired woman's eyes widened. She turned on her heel and stared into the bloodied face of a gaunt man. He grinned broadly, there was a dangerous flash in his blue eyes. The survivor stumbled back, completely taken by surprise by the stranger. She slid back, trying to get some distance between them. A project that was basically pointless due to the narrow space. The black-haired man wiped a strand of hair from his face, showing the blood-stained blade of his switch blade. He took a drag on his foul smelling cigarette, blew the smoke sideways out of his mouth and finally spoke calmly: “Someone is incredibly scared all of a sudden, huh? It's almost sweet to watch. You're making it even more fun for me, slut."

The journalist reached the wall too quickly for her liking, and pressed herself up against it again. Nancy panicked and searched the office for a way to escape. The killer giggled happily, then mumbled quietly: "I don't really want to spoil your fun here, but this time you're really trapped, sweetie. End of line, babe. Sorry.” The brown-haired woman shook her head in disbelief and tried to find a way out of the situation. She had to fight, but how? There wasn't even a chair in this office. The end of the cigarette glowed red, then slowly fade out into darkness again. The man replied arrogantly: “Don't you have something nice to say to me, Nancy? I mean, we've been playing this game for a good two hours now and you've always escaped me successfully. Now that your luck is slowly running out, you could at least admire my deliberate tactics, pussy. Stalking you all unnoticed and killing you one after another is an impressive skill, isn't it?” The young woman was breathing faster than ever before in her life. The smoke from her mouth rose slowly into the air, gradually dissipating in the harsh wind. She unexpectedly slid down the wall a bit and looked down at her injured hand. The bloody print was blurred. The survivor replied in a hissing voice: "Fuck you, you sick freak." The addressed person snorted in amusement and took the cigarette between thumb and forefinger. He took one deep, last drag and flicked the pathetic remainder onto the floor. The man breathed in amusement: “There it is again, this delicate will to survive. How motherfucking sweet, yeah? I like it more than I want to admit it, you stupid whore. You know what – I'll give you one last chance to escape. I know, I am incredibly kind and generous towards you. I'll count down exactly one minute, then I'll come for you. Do you think you can be faster than me, Nancy?” The journalist frowned, looked into the killer’s blue eyes. Was he serious? The black-haired man let the knife rotate between his fingers and asked with a smile: "Ready, sweetheart?" He actually started to count down. The brown-haired woman blinked almost confused. The killer raised an eyebrow and continued counting, slowly stepping back to clear the way to the window.

The young woman finally realized that he apparently really wanted to give her a last chance. She pushed away from the wall and frantically looked around the office, finally found the switch she was looking for. Her injured hand gripped the rusty handle, pulling it down forcefully. It hurt more than she'd thought. A loud siren howled through the factory, signalling that the door to freedom must really have opened somewhere. Nancy looked at the black-haired man once again. He was now at number thirty and crossed his arms over his narrow chest. The survivor ran to the window and jumped back to freedom. Now all she had to do was find the god damn exit. William had given the group some tips for orientation, but all advice was forgotten under the unbearable constant stress. The journalist stumbled towards the collapsed bridge and looked cautiously down, then reluctantly let herself down at the debris. Where the hell did she have to go now? The young woman tried to determine the source of the siren in the hall. Unsuccessful. She turned helplessly around, staring with watery eyes into the identical-looking surroundings. At first it didn't really matter where she went, as long as she finally got away from this madman. He wouldn't count forever. Nancy stepped over the metal parts and ran down one of the innumerable corridors, looking around in panic. The brown-haired woman whispered hoarsely to herself: “Think, girl, you need to think. You're so close.” Disorientation. After a few meters, her lungs stopped working, forcing the survivor to run a little slower. The initial condition was as good as used up. The constant loss of blood also took its toll. A heavy, sluggish feeling crept into her head. How long had she been wandering the factory? Nancy stumbled slightly, clutching a rusty shelf. Suddenly she felt so extremely dizzy. The brown-haired woman looked down at the floor and frowned in confusion, then hesitantly bent down. Remains of a transparent liquid could be seen on the concrete, which had probably been dispersed into the air a few minutes ago. It smelled sweet and had a distant odour of cheap alcohol. Suddenly the dizziness got even worse. At that moment it struck the journalist that all of them must have been inhaling these vapours continuously since arriving at the factory. The young woman put her hand on the cold floor, helplessly gulped up a gush of stomach acid again and again, and tried to straighten up again.

She absolutely had to keep walking. A sudden, violent pain in her spine finally revealed the contents of the stomach. Nancy vomited on the floor, the clear liquid quickly being replaced by her own thick blood. The sharp blade left her back with a rough jerk. The survivor fell face first on the concrete, twitching from the overwhelming pain. Slowly spreading paralysis took over her body, making breathing almost impossible. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a black combat boot millimetres beside her face. A hand buried itself in her long hair and carefully lifted the defenceless head up in the air. The man from before grinned happily at her, then whispered softly to her dirty lips: “It's such a shame, bitch. You tried so hard, but rules are rules, yeah? I think that my – I say it carefully – client wouldn't be happy if I just let you go now. Sorry, Nancy. Good night, slut. Until our the next game.” The edge of the switch blade touched her sweaty throat, pulled through the overheated skin with a smooth movement. Contrary to expectations, the young woman felt no pain as her blood trickled to the ground. She just sank into an inviting blackness.

#Dead By Daylight #Nancy Wheeler #OC #Killer OC #Killer #Mikołaj Brakowski #No escape #It's just a game yes?#Killer Idea #Survivor #Poison #Entity

2 notes · View notes