#nothing concrete that can be backed up by lore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahhhwomen · 3 months

Text

Mom, I'm tired.

Vampire Empire

Part 2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You just want to rest.

Word Count: 1.4k

You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?

Why can’t you move?!

The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.

There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.

Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.

Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.

That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.

It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.

You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.

You can’t even do that.

You don’t want to die.

Not like this.

You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.

But-

There is nothing you can do.

Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.

Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.

When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.

She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.

As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.

You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.

You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.

You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.

Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.

Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.

That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.

Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.

She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.

She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.

Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.

Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.

“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.

Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.

However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.

Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.

Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.

It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.

Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”

Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.

Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.

Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.

Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.

So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.

“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.

And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.

It sounded wrong.

Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.

It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.

After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.

Mom, I'm tired.

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat

383 notes · View notes

ja3honey · 7 months

Text

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 [𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫] - 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

My Everything

【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

『Word count』 : 2.14k

-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au

Paring: Gargoyle!San x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Fake names. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.

Note : The long awaited demon San is here. I'll be honest I was so busy i didn't get time to write this fic, and when Kinktober rolled around, i thought it was what better time than now. So thank you, everyone from this poll for everyone picking San for this concept.

This story is my own flare of the original creators' webcomic. So the lore, characters, and other story design have been tweaked and changed to fit what i wanted to write. Make sure to check out the original author of this wild story.

I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane . Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

You ran faster than your legs could carry you, nearly slipping over even bend and turn you took. The pouring rain had soaked your tunic and all of your undergarments. Your shoes were also squelching with every stomp your feet did. You were in a panic, frantically praying that he would be alright. The priest of your village warned you―more like threatened you―about involving yourself with the devil as he put it. ‘Those beasts are not to be trusted. They are demons in disguise. Filth. Inhuman.’

You obviously ignored the old man, having no time with such lies. That beast was the most kindest creature you know. He was more caring than any human you've ever met. He understood you, heard you, got to know you. Everyone in the village only looked at you as the witch's daughter, the spawn of the devil herself. You were nothing and the only way to be something was to submit. Be one with god, marry the priest and prove you were devoted to the lord.

“Sun! Sun where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Sun was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?

You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Sun’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.

“I can’t leave you Sun. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”

Your yelp got the demon's attention, making him stand at all his height. His fanged mouth growled, annoyed but also riddled with guilt. He would never thought the night he had with you was a mistake. Frankly, it was one, if not the best moment in his lifetime. But he needed to keep his distance from you. He needed you safe. Protected, alive. And he was something that was unable to do so. He was filth. A demon. You are this light. Innocent human. He shouldn’t, he can’t be the one that taints such a delicate flower. “Darling, please. I… I can’t.”

You stomped over to his form pushing on his strong broad chest. He fell with little effort landing on the wet concrete, soaking the fabric that wrapped around his waist. He could have held his ground not letting you move his large body with such ease, but he didn’t want to. He needed you close no matter how hard his mind was fighting him. You wasting no time in locking your lips against his. If talking wasn’t going to work then you were going to show him that he was meant for you. You needed him like the air you breathe and he wasn’t about to make the choice to die and leave you alone on this earth without you trying your best to stop him.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered against his lips, feeling his long demonic tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned climbing the creature so your legs dangled over each of his crossed thighs. His hand, the same width as your waist, held tightly on your hip while the other cupped your face, holding you firmly in place. His tongue abused your own for a moment, basking in the rain now only lightly pouring. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving from yours, to your jaw, and then to your collarbone.

“I’ll never leave you my flower. I promise. I’m sorry.” His voice was raw, filled with pain and sorrow. He would never want you to fear such a thing but in toe, had made the fear brew from his outburst. You slide down off his lap falling in between his thighs. Your fingers quickly fumble with his cloth before tugging his growing cock free. The cold rain pouring down made the demon hiss, but your warm hands made his mind spin. Your fingers could barely wrap around the almost hardened cock. Now looking at him probably you now wonder how it even fitted in you in the first place. Your mouth took his tip, jaw aching at the sheer size of him. but you bushed forwards sucking on him making him groan, dipping his head backwards. Your mouth felt amazing even if you couldn’t take him whole. Your whimpers and gags vibrated on his cock in the perfect way and your harsh grip was sending him over the edge. “fuck, if you keep going I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

His growl went straight to your pussy, making you try and take more of him in your mouth, letting saliva drip down your chin, soaking his cock along with his precum. You used one hand to continue stroking him while you used another to slip under your soaked dress, pressing your fingers firmly on your clit. Your moans were the perfect missing piece to send him over the edge, emptying his hot seed down your throat. “Fuck!!” his hand that held your face snaked and tighten in your hair, holding your still as he jerked his hips slightly. You pulled away making some of his juices squirt out on your face.

God, was it a sight to see.

Your wide eyes looking at him with nothing but devotion while covered in his cum. How did he ever get so lucky finding you in such a cruel dark world? He sat up quickly, ripping all the fabric on your body, throwing the drenched tattered material somewhere across the garden. His huge hands gripped our thighs tugging you up until you sat on his chest, feeling some of your juices leak out onto his scarred body. You felt embarrassed, but your lover couldn’t think about anything in that moment other than having your pussy over his face. So with his insane strength, he lauds you forward, letting your cunt meet his lips. He pushed you down light so your body could lay on top of his while on your back. Tilting your face to the right you see his hardening cock twitch. His long demonic tongue licked a strip up your slit making your whole body visibly shivers. Your nails digging into his hips trying to hold onto any part of his giant frame. “Ffffucckk please!”

His tongue enters you, fucking you slowly as one of his hands lays flat on your tummy pushing pressure onto your body and making your toes curl. His other hand that still gripped tightly on your inner thigh opens slightly so his large thumb could reach your clit, pressing harshly on your nub. He could eat you for hours and never get tired of the way your body moves, the way it responds to every touch he gives or the way you moan and whimper his name over and over again. It was like an angel singing. Elegant, perfect and pure

“Hmm come.” His voice was almost not audible as he kept eating you like a starved beast making the vibrations hit just the right spot to send you reeling over the edge. He gave you no time to relax after your high though as your demonic lover picked you up with no effort at all and bend you over the concrete statue seat that he would sit at for centuries waiting for freedom. All your clothing had been ripped and torn away at this point leaving you completely baring in the cold dark night. The rain had not stopped but only got lighter for a moment before pouring some more. You would surely get sick after this encounter if you were not to leave at this moment. But neither of you made an effort to find shelter or privacy. No, he needed you now just as much as you to him. “Deep breaths Darling.”

His deep grumble was almost lost under the loud blanket of rain echoing in the night. But luckily you hear him, taking a deep breath, steadying yourself on the rock. The tip of his cock rubbed against your soaked folds, before inching in slowly. The burn was pleasurable but still painful. But you couldn’t care at this moment. Another inch went in and the demon had to pace himself, screaming over and over in his mind not to just snap his hips, making you take his cock in one quick swoop. No, he needed patience, even though he was no patient creature. But he managed to find some, only for you. Once he was able to completely bottoming you out. You were both a panting and moaning mess. Your whines didn’t stop as he started to buck his hips in and out. In and out. Testing the waters, seeing what you could handle. And once he saw a green light, his grip on your hips tightened as he began to ruthlessly fuck you against the rough concrete.

Your screams caught the breeze, shattering through the heavy sound of rain. He had turned you around in one single movement need to to feel your body close to his. Your legs couldn’t even wrap fully around your lovers huge waist as he continued fuck you hard and quick.

“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”

It didn’t take you long for your band in your tummy to tighten. You were so close to the edge and you needed just a little extra. Just a little more. And The demon seemed to read your body like his favourite book, pinching your clit with his large fingers you whaled his name squirting all over his cock. “PLease fuck argh. Your cock is so good. Fuckkk.”

He growled like an animal, latching his sharp teeth on your soft shoulder, wrapping his muscular arms around your tiny human frame. He picked you up, fucking upwards in a new angle. Your body was like a rag doll, letting him fuck you in any position he seemed fit. His wings caged you, almost like he was protecting you while he also ruining you.

For a beast that seemed to only want to fuck, he cared so much about you. Without him ever saying it, he knew you were the love of his life and he was willing to die for you. Heck, he had already killed for you. And he could kill again if you asked. No matter what the code says about demons hurting humans. He would gladly serve an eternal sentence if it means hurting the ones who hurt you first.

“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”

“Yes, yes. Please. Give it to me.” and with your soft submissive cries he came deep in your cunt. Filling your full. His come mixed with yours, spilling down his legs, before washing away on the wet floor. His cock slipped out of you but he did not let you down. No, he opened his wings and took off towards the castle without another world. He held you tightly as you watched the garden where he had just defiled you disappear into your view. He was taking you back to his den. The home he had to made for himself. Away from any human or beast's eye.

Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.

-♥︎

381 notes · View notes

imagineteamfreewill · 6 months

Text

Cursed

Title: Cursed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Brief heavy drinking, suggested dub con (nothing actually happens besides PG-13 touching, but more is suggested and the reader does not want to participate), cursed Dean, language, angst, a little fluff

Summary: Dean’s cursed after a witch hunt and Sam and Y/N are left to deal with the consequences.

A/N: This is a super random one shot I started writing in 2018 that I just recently found in an old WIP folder. I’ve changed it a lot from what it originally started as, but I hope it’s enjoyable nonetheless. As always, thanks for reading and for supporting me in all the ways you do!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Dean,” you sigh. You steal the sweaty, half-drunk beer bottle from his hand. “You can’t just drink until you black out!”

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling another bottle from the paper carton beside him. It’s already empty and he huffs in annoyance, setting it aside before grabbing the fourth and final beer from its slot.

“Dean!”

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to pry the top off the bottle and take a long swig, then let out a satisfied sigh. The bottle cap clatters to the concrete beneath his pool chair. He smacks his lips and you try to disguise your disgust, even if he won’t care either way.

Frustrated, you stomp back to the motel room and push the door open, slamming your room key and the bottle you’d taken away on the table in front of Sam. The door hits the door jamb on the wall before bouncing back and slamming shut with a bang.

“Your brother is going to be the end of me!” you growl.

Sam looks up, eyebrows raised as he tries to transition his mind from the lore he’s been reading to what you’ve said. “Hmm?”

You groan and run a hand through your hair, inwardly praying for some patience, then look back down at him. “I said,” you begin, unable to even vaguely disguise how you feel, “that your brother is slowly annoying me to death! Please tell me that you have a cure, or at least a counter-curse! I don’t know how much longer I can take this!”

“I haven’t found anything so far,” Sam replies, shaking his head apologetically. He reaches for the beer bottle and you snatch it away, grinding your teeth in frustration. Though you want to take a sip of it yourself to make the next few hours—or days, depending on how long it takes you and Sam to find a cure—easier, you grip it hard in one hand for a second before sighing and putting it back on the edge of the table. Just because Dean was drinking himself to death, doesn’t necessarily mean that his younger brother had to suffer.

“Just… Just figure something out. I need to go back to keeping an eye on Mister R&R out there.” You gesture towards the door, then press the heels of your hands to your eyes. You’re exhausted; not only had yesterday’s witch hunt been nothing more than a dead end, but somehow, Dean managed to get himself cursed. It’s up to you and Sam to find the witch and a cure, and Dean’s no help. The curse has left him incapable of doing any actual work, instead convincing him that all he should do for the rest of his life is relax. All you’ve done for the last day and a half is chase after him to make sure that he doesn’t break any laws or get himself hurt.

“We’ll figure it out, Y/N. I promise,” Sam reassures. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? Maybe we can convince Dean to come relax in here. If we’re lucky, he might sleep, too. Sleeping isn’t work—if we spin it the right way he might go for it.”

You nod wearily and pick up the beer again. You dump its contents down the bathroom drain before tossing the empty bottle in the plastic trash can. “Are there any more of those in here?” you ask, heading back out to the main part of the room.

Sam turns in his seat to glance around the room, then shakes his head. “Nope. I think Dean got ‘em all already.” He closes his laptop and pushes the chair back from the table, standing and grabbing your keycard. “You take a shower and I’ll go get Dean. You look like hell.”

Snorting, you send Sam a grateful look and go over to your duffel, where you pull out your bag of toiletries and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. After a second of thought, you grab a pair of shorts, just in case he’s feeling grabby. “Gee, thanks.”

The sound of the door closing is Sam’s response. You shut your eyes for a second, soaking in the still, peaceful silence of the room before going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. It’s the first time since yesterday morning that you’ve been alone, and it’s the first time it’s been so quiet, too.

Minutes later, you’re scrubbing yourself down and ignoring the way that the dirty water pools around your feet as you rinse away the grime from the past two days. It feels good to finally be clean. You’re just rinsing off your face and hair when you hear the bathroom door open and you freeze, carefully peeking open an eye to stare at the frosted white shower curtain. The person on the other side doesn’t move, nor do they make a sound.

“Sam?” you ask after a second. “Is that you?”

“Guess again,” Dean replies, a bit too cheerily for your liking.

You can only see his vague silhouette through the shower curtain, but you can clearly picture the arrogant smirk on his face. It’s been one of the few expressions on his face since he’d been cursed. The others in the rotation have left you equally as irritated.

Pursing your lips, you quickly finish rinsing off and turn the knob to shut off the water. “Hand me my towel,” you say, sticking a hand out around the curtain. It’s a request you’ve made many times in the past, yet now it comes out harsher, more like an order or a command than a simple task.

“Why? It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before,” Dean counters.

You sigh, your arm dropping slightly as you keep it held out. “Dean, come on. This isn’t you. Please just hand me my towel.”

“Of course it’s me,” he says. “I’m just wondering why my girl won’t let me see her wet and naked. We could have a lot of fun that way…” His fingertips brush your forearm as his silhouette moves closer, and you snatch your arm back.

“You’re cursed, Dean. We’ve talked about this. Now please, hand me my towel.” Dean only hums in response and you growl quietly to yourself before yelling, “Sam! Sam, get in here!”

A moment later, the bathroom door squeaks open again and you hear Sam shout in annoyance.

“Jesus Christ, Dean! Put on some clothes!”

“Of course he’s naked,” you mumble under your breath. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Dean chuckles and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying not to slip and fall. The chill from the bathroom has started to set in now that you’re no longer under hot water, and goosebumps have broken out over your damp skin. You shiver.

“Sam,” you call, a little louder so you can be certain that he’ll hear you. “Sam, please just hand me my towel. Your idiot brother refuses to.”

You feel the rough fabric in your hand as soon as you stick your arm out again, and you quickly yank it inside the shower with you before Dean can snatch it. After wrapping it around yourself, you pull the shower curtain open to find Dean buttoning his jeans, his upper half still bare.

“Thanks for putting pants on,” you say, pushing him out of the way so that you can get to the sink. Hopefully, your praise will incentivize him to do what you ask. Maybe he’ll be more willing to nap that way. It’s only a thread of hope, but you’ll cling to it until it breaks.

You wipe the fog off the mirror with your hand and peer at your reflection for a second before grabbing your comb and starting to comb out your hair, shivering when cold water drips onto your bare shoulders.

“Let me do that,” Dean says. He grabs the comb before you can answer and picks up where you left off, leaving you to hold up your towel in silence. His hands are gentle and for a moment, you forget that he’s cursed. This is something he does for you all the time. It’s one of the ways he shows you that he cares for you, even when he’s wrapped up in his own thoughts or when the two of you are too tired to even talk.

When the thought pops into your head, however, you begin to analyze the situation, trying to figure out exactly how this is helping Dean relax. So far, he’s only done things that help him relax, not others, which means that this somehow has to be more beneficial to him than it is to you.

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you reach up and take the comb from his hands, ignoring the spark of electricity that runs up your arm when your skin brushes against his. “Why are you doing this?” you ask, crossing your arms over the top of your towel as you turn to face him.

Dean shrugs, glancing at his reflection in the mirror behind you. His expression seems more normal than it has since the witch hunt, and you grip the edge of the towel a little tighter, watching him carefully. Has the curse been broken somehow?

“Dunno. I like playing with your hair, I guess.” A familiar, lazy smile crosses his face as he meets your eyes a second later, and he takes a step forward so his hips pin yours against the bathroom counter. “Plus, I know what happens when you get relaxed and you feel taken care of.”

Scoffing, you push Dean off of you and toss the comb down, then grab your shirt and shorts off the counter. “Get out. I need to change. Go…” You pause, frantically wracking your brain for some suggestion he might actually go for. “Go wait for me in bed, okay? Yeah? I’ll come join you in a minute.” You hope that your words sound promising enough, even if you don’t really plan on doing anything with him while he’s cursed. You couldn’t stomach it.

Dean dips his head to stare down at you with the same lazy, drunk smile on his face as before. “Okay. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart. Don’t take too long.”

He slips out the door, finally leaving you alone, and you quickly push the door shut and flip the lock—something you should’ve done in the first place. You shudder, then glance at your phone on the counter.

“Come on,” you mutter. “Anything is better than this.”

Reluctantly, you force yourself to pick up the phone and send a short, carefully worded text before setting it aside and changing into your clean clothes. Rowena’s response comes just as soon as you’re dressed, and you close your eyes when you read her message, relieved. After forwarding it to Sam, you carry your things out to the main room, only to find that Dean’s just where he had promised he would be. A quick glance around the room shows that Sam has chosen to make himself scarce, and you silently curse his name in every language you know.

“Hey there, Y/N,” Dean drawls, directing your attention back to him. His jeans are unbuttoned again, though not unzipped, and you swallow the lump in your throat at the sight of his half-naked frame sprawled out on the bed, trying to focus on the task at hand. You need to sleep, and you figure that if Dean is sleeping, he can’t get into any trouble. It’s getting him to sleep that will be the problem.

“Hey,” you casually reply. You set your things down in your bag, taking a minute to rearrange them with your back to Dean. You hear noise coming from the bed as you plug your phone in on the TV stand and you slow your movement, listening as Dean moves the pillows and blankets around to his liking. When you turn around again, the extra pillows are all on the floor and he’s settled in the middle of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he regards you with a cocky smile.

“You gonna come over here or what?”

Forcing a smile of your own, you cross the room and grab a pillow off the floor, then crawl into bed with Dean. His hands immediately go for your hips in an attempt to pull you on top of him, but you push them away.

“Roll over,” you say, tucking your wet hair behind your ear. “Let me give you a massage first.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, clearly liking your suggestion, then moves over to lay on his stomach. You get to work, doing your very best to get him to relax as much as possible.

You must’ve massaged Dean’s back and shoulders for an hour before you finally hear him let out a soft snore. Your hands are sore, but relief floods you and you carefully move to the opposite edge of the bed and lay on your stomach. You close your eyes, desperately hoping that you’ll fall asleep quickly so you can get as much rest as possible before he awakes.

When you wake up, you can hear Dean arguing with Sam, their voices hushed despite the anger lacing their words. Slowly, you open your eyes and lie still, listening. You’ve rolled over onto your side in your sleep, so you can stare at the wall and watch their shadows as they argue.

“Dean, you can’t go out right now. Y/N is sleeping and I’m not going with you,” Sam huffs. He’s all at once placating and annoyed with his older brother, the same way a parent who’s fed up with their child’s antics might speak. “I have better things to do than pick up chicks at a bar, including finding something to help break whatever curse you’re under.”

“I don’t need your help, Sammy. I’m fine! And I’m not going to a bar, I’m just going to get some food from the taco place down the street!”

“Really? You’re not cursed? Is that why you were taking up most of the bed and Y/N’s only got the edge? Because that’s not like you, man. You’ve been acting differently since we got back yesterday.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Dean hisses. “Just drop it.”

You listen intently for whatever Sam has to say in response, but it’s too quiet for you to make out anything. After a minute, the door to the parking lot opens, then slams shut. You don’t hear Sam go after his brother, nor do you hear anyone moving around the room, and you frown against your pillow.

Confused, you sit up in bed and rub your eyes before going over to the window, carefully pulling the curtain away from the edge so you can peek outside. It’s pitch black outside. You hadn’t glanced at the clock on the nightstand as you’d crawled out of bed, but you’re certain it’s the middle of the night. You’d slept for almost eight hours, which is practically a miracle.

The boys are just outside the door, on the walkway that runs from the motel office and past every room, all the way to the end of the building. They’re still arguing, but Sam looks more shocked than frustrated. The parking lot lights flicker for a second, and when they come back on, you realize that both Sam and Dean are staring at you.

Feeling a bit guilty that you were caught eavesdropping, you drop the curtain. Then, you step over to the door and pull it open so you can stand in the doorway. Though it’s dark out, Sam and Dean are close enough where you can see them clearly in the overhead lights, and you look between them.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

The two brothers glance at each other, their unspoken conversation ending with Dean’s shoulders slumping, before Sam bitterly answers, “Dean has something he’d like to tell you.”

“Okay…” You turn your attention to Dean, unsure of what to expect.

It takes him a minute to speak up. “I, uh… I wasn’t cursed.”

You stare at him for a second, trying to understand how his behavior the past 36 hours lines up with that statement. “What?”

“There’s no curse. I wasn’t cursed before, and I’m not cursed now. I’m fine,” he says.

Anger is starting to rise up into your chest and you clench your hands into fists. Slowly, in a way you hope will get you the clearest answer possible, you reply, “What do you mean there was no curse? If there’s no curse, then why have you been acting the way you have?”

Dean has the decency to look ashamed, and he looks away to stare at the window leading into the motel office. The employee manning the front desk looks asleep, with one hand propping his head up on the laminate countertop. The vacancy sign in the window flickers. Sam leaves and heads to the Impala, but you only spare him a glance. A few moments later, the car starts up and drives off toward the main part of town.

“I don’t know. I needed a break from the responsibilities. I wanted to live like there was nothing to worry about, just for a day,” Dean tells you after the parking lot returns to silence once more.

You can’t decide if you’re more shocked at the revelation that he’s not cursed, angry that he’s done what he did, or saddened that Dean felt the way he had, yet he hadn’t felt like he could talk to you about it. You would’ve given him the best day off ever, had you known that’s what he needed. Instead, he’s taken advantage of you and his brother, and he’s treated you poorly in the process. He’s acted like a complete and total selfish asshole.

“I can’t believe you,” you finally scoff. You cross your arms over your chest, but you drop them back down to your sides almost immediately. Angry tears fill your eyes. “You are so selfish! If you had just said something, we could’ve done whatever you’d wanted, but instead, you had to act like you’d been cursed! We were worried sick, Dean!”

You step forward into his space, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I was terrified that we’d never find a cure, and the way you treated me?” You scoff again and shake your head. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable, Dean! I can’t believe you’d treat me like that. I can’t believe you’d treat Sam like that! Do you know that we were this close to making a deal with Rowena?” You bring your hand up between his face and yours, holding your thumb and index finger only an inch apart to emphasize your point. “This close!”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he answers, his voice quiet. He stares down at the sidewalk.

You drop your hand back down your side. “Are you?”

He nods and lifts his head to look up at you. In any other situation, you might’ve broken at the grief in his eyes, but you’re too furious to back down now.

“Y/N, you gotta believe me! If I’d known how out of hand this was going to get, I wouldn’t have done it, but by the time I realized how far I’d taken it, it was too late! I hadn’t thought of a way to get rid of the fake curse without it being too big of an issue, so I had to keep rolling with it.”

You shake your head again, shocked and disgusted that he’d done something so drastic. Throwing up both your hands, you take a step back towards the motel room. “You had to keep rolling with it? I can’t. I can’t deal with this right now! I’m going back to bed.” You turn and start to dig for your keycard in your pajama pocket, even though you know it’s not there.

“We can talk about it whenever you’re ready,” Dean says. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You know, I honestly don’t even know if I want to talk to you,” you snap, turning to face him again. “And I’m not sure that there even is a way for you to make this up to me, Dean. This is so far beyond the realm of things that you could’ve done that I can’t even wrap my brain around it!”

You stomp back to the motel room door and yank on the handle. Predictably, it doesn’t budge, and you let out a shriek of frustration. Dean silently offers you his keycard, holding it by your hand though he stands just beyond your view. You snatch it from him and shove it into the slot above the handle. When the light turns green, you shove the door open and step inside, then slam it behind you again, leaving the Dean standing alone on the walkway.

Though you’d said you were going back to bed, you’re too riled up to sleep, so you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom for your second shower of the day. Thankfully, this is the nicest motel you’ve had in a while. The water pressure may not be great, but the hot water lasts for a long time and there’s nothing suspicious growing anywhere in the bathroom. Once inside, you lock the door behind you and toss your stuff onto the vanity, ignoring it when it slides into the sink instead of staying on the countertop.

As you stand under the hot spray of the shower, you stare hard at the wall. You half-listen to the room, too, just in case Sam or Dean comes back in after you, but mostly you let yourself stew.

Dean’s a great guy. He’s an even better boyfriend, despite all his flaws; he’s attentive, kind, protective (to a fault), and he makes you laugh. He knows when to be gentle and when to leave things be, especially when you’re in a mood. You love him. That thought makes you frown harder, and you cross your arms over your bare chest. You love Dean, but he’s treated you so poorly that you can only doubt if he loves you in the same way. Surely someone couldn’t do something so horrid to someone they loved?

One of the boys knocks on the door and you ignore them. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard them enter the room. When they knock again, you roll your eyes and drop your arms, then grab the conditioner.

“What?” you snap.

“Sam came back. We’re going out to get some food. Do you want your usual?” Dean asks.

Huffing, you squirt a handful of conditioner into your palm and close the bottle, and you practically slam it onto the shelf in the shower. It immediately slips off and clatters to the floor, narrowly missing your foot. You curse and leave it there.

“Y/N?” Dean asks again.

“Sure! Fine! Whatever, Dean! Get whatever you want for me, I don’t care!”

“Y/N—”

“Just leave me alone? Okay?”

There’s silence on the other side of the door, and you think for a second that Dean’s actually done what you’ve asked for the first time since the hunt, but then he asks,

“Do you need a break? From me?”

You pause, your hands frozen where they’ve been working the conditioner into your hair, and you stare at the shower curtain for a moment or two while you think over Dean’s words.

“I don’t know,” you finally reply. “I’m angry, and I’m really fucking hurt. Do you know how exhausted I was, Dean? How worried I was that the second I stopped making sure you didn’t do something stupid, you’d get hurt or arrested? I didn’t shower after the hunt, and I’ve barely eaten anything.

“And when you came in here while I was showering earlier? I was so scared you’d do something that you couldn’t truly agree to. And then, for a minute, when you combed my hair, it was like everything was normal again. I guess it was normal, but I didn’t know that then, did I? And then, after a while, I thought you were doing it just to come onto me, and you played that up. You made me so uncomfortable, Dean, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop you from doing something if you were really dead set on having sex with me. If you’d really been cursed, you wouldn’t have been in your right mind to agree to anything, and I would’ve had to live with that thought if something had actually happened! I was so terrified of that, and yet the whole time you were just pretending! Like it was a game to you, or something!”

There’s a strangled noise from the other side of the door and you close your eyes, hands trembling. Dean doesn’t speak again for a minute. When there’s only silence, you start rinsing out your hair, and then you turn off the shower and grab your towel from the bar.

“I don’t know how to make it up to you,” Dean says, startling you as you reach for your comb. It’s exactly where you’d left it last night, after you’d thrown it aside. You stand on the cheap bath mat, holding the tiny plastic comb as you wait for Dean to continue.

“I probably never will, but I want to try. I know I’ve messed up, and I know I did horrible things. You have no idea how horrible I feel and how sick it makes me that I made you so uncomfortable. I should’ve stopped right away. I shouldn’t have even pretended to want that from you. If you can’t forgive me for what I did and how I made you feel, I’ll understand and I’ll leave you alone forever, but I love you, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen. I don’t know what got into me.”

“This isn’t like you, Dean,” you interject, quieter than before. You feel deflated after his speech. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he says, almost pleading with you, as if you have all the answers. You wish you did.

You lean sideways against the door. It’s cold against your shoulder and you hold the towel tighter, staring at your blurred reflection in the foggy mirror. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“I don’t know. I should’ve. My head’s messed up and I was afraid you wouldn’t react the way I needed you to.”

“It’s okay to feel scared when you talk about how you feel, but we’ve gotta be honest with each other if this is going to work. You have to be honest with the person you’re dating, no matter what. That’s a big thing, Dean.”

“I know.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

The two of you stand there in silence, each of you on opposite sides of the door. Finally, you straighten up and turn the handle. It unlocks automatically and you pull the door open to meet Dean’s eyes. He looks shocked that you’re facing him so soon, and though his eyes flicker down at the white towel you’re still wearing, he mostly just holds your gaze, waiting for you to speak first. His eyes are red and puffy. He’s been crying, and though he’d mentioned that Sam was back, the room is silent.

“This kind of thing can never happen again,” you tell him firmly. “If it does, I’m out. I’m telling Sam that, too, so that if you pull something like this again and then try to find me, he can stop you.”

Dean nods. His voice breaks as he replies, “That’s fair. You deserve to be with someone who’s good for you, even if it’s not me.”

“And we have to talk about how we’re feeling, even if it’s hard. Maybe we should come up with a plan for when you feel this way.” Dean nods again and you look down at the comb in your hands. You pause for a second to collect your thoughts. “Dean, I’m still angry with you, and I probably will be for at least a little while, but I’m also hurt that you felt you couldn’t talk to me. I know Sam probably is too, but I do understand how you feel. You’re not alone in this.”

“I know that now,” he softly answers.

You look up. “Do you?”

He nods. “I’m sorry,” Dean repeats.

“I know.” You look back at the comb, then up at him again. “You can start by combing out my hair and braiding it in those fancy braids you pretend not to know how to do.” You hold out the comb and when Dean opens his mouth to protest, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You wanna fix things? This is step one, Dean.”

He sighs and takes the comb, his shoulders slumped dramatically. There’s a hint of his normal self in his expression now. You step further into the bathroom to allow him room to stand behind you.

Dean’s hands are gentle as he begins to comb out your wet hair. You glance up at him in the mirror. He catches your eye almost right away, then smiles slightly. You smile back, just enough for him to see it before he focuses back on your hair, the first olive branch that you’ve extended him.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

If you want to support me further, consider buying me a ko-fi.

If you would like to be added to my tags, please send me a message or an ask! I tag for Everything, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, and Castiel.

Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @alexwinchester23 @shaelyn102 @lyarr24 @supermoonpanda @ultimatecin73 @musiclovinchic93 @shamelesslydean @mlovesstories @ellie-andthemachine

Dean Winchester: @karikatz12481 @amionthetumbler @akshi8278

198 notes · View notes

1800jjbarnes · 5 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

My Everything

【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

『W.C』 : 2.14k

-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au

Paring: Gargoyle!Bucky x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. use of the name Soldat. allusion of Hydra in old timey lore. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.

I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane. Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

“Soldat! Soldat where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Soldat was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?

You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Soldat’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.

“I can’t leave you Soldat. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”

God, was it a sight to see.

“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”

“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”

Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.

349 notes · View notes

arkiliastuff · 19 days

Text

In a Concrete Jungle - Chapter 1 "The Meeting"

Noah Sebastian x OFC (Aurey)

(pictures edited by me. Originals url linked on the pictures.)

A/N : Oh my, I'm back after a long break and work on this fanfic. Took me a while as you can notice, but I'm glad on how the first chapter turned out already. Again this is going to be a long story, so I'm going to take my time by writting it. I hope you'll like this one ! :D Let me know if I've forgot anything and your thoughts about it ! <3

Warnings/Tags : Strangers/Enemies to Lovers trope, violence, blood, post-apocalyptical universe, "no god, no religion" vibe (I don't mean any form of disrespect in any religion), mention of trauma, death, loss, drugs, mental and physical abuse, trust and abandonment issues. (Just in case MDNI please).

Disclaimer : I haven’t read the comic book “Concrete Jungle” written by Noah Sebastian and illustrated by many cover artists such as Nicola Izzo, Jeremy Wilson and many more, so I don’t know much about the lore and the universe. I just got inspired by the song and the few panels of the comic book that I saw about it. The rest is a pure work of my imagination and it’s not related to anything official. Nothing is canonically official. This is totally fanfiction. And so this is how I pictured the world in the song “Concrete Jungle”.

~ The little beans taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @talialovesmiw @lma1986 @cookiesupplier

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━

The four men arrived at a strange building. It was half destroyed but still inhabited. The dark clouds of smoke outside gave a gloomy appearance to it. They saw a lot of old burned cars, with more wires and barbed strings surrounding the whole building, like a barricade or a fortress. Once they parked their car, they got out one by one, slowly, observing their surroundings. Noah and Nicholas were the first ones to cover their nose as they just breathed the heavy air from outside. It smelled like burned gas.

They were carefully being watched by some kind of military guards. Some of them looked like cops, others looked like simple soldiers, with their guns, helmets and respirators. Two other security agents, wearing the same black gear with a bulletproof vest were close to the door of the old building. They were talking to their headset radio, before another man arrived outside. Then, all three walked towards the newcomers, welcoming them.

“Are you the BAD OMENS syndicate ?”

“That’s us.” Jolly spoke.

“I’m Leo. I’ll be your guide here. Follow me, Mister Charles is waiting for you.”

The security guard turned on his heels, heading to the entrance of the building again. Jolly took the lead of the group, followed by Folio and Ruffilo, while Noah closed the queue. His hands in his pockets, he was looking everywhere, paying attention to every detail around him. He looked up and saw a lion symbol in a crescent shape decorating the pediment, proudly. He read “Golden Lion”. Before the short dark brown-haired man could ask anything, the security guard turned around, facing the group.

“Welcome to the Golden Lion’s den.”

The so-called “den” looked bigger from the inside than the outside. The bricks were about to crumble at any second but somehow it managed to stay in place. That didn’t bother at all those who lived here. Once the group entered the building, they couldn’t see a thing. There was a huge darkened hallway barely lightened up, the electricity flickering randomly. The security guard explained to Noah and his friends this floor was hardly occupied by the mafia members and it was only dedicated to training.

“...The first floor is for common places, like the dorms, bathroom and kitchen. The second floor is where the chief’s office is and where the guest rooms are. Plus the rooms of the elite guards. As for the third floor, it’s the boss' personal quarters only with his closest bodyguards” Leo continued to explain before stopping in a caged room. “Let’s take the elevator to go faster.”

There wasn’t any space in the so-called elevator. It was just enough to fit them all five.

“Looks like this place needs some work done” Folio jested, noticing the gravel falling from the ceiling.

But Leo replied calmly, not paying attention to the joke.

“Well, unfortunately we don't always have the time to repair when the Resistance or the other gangs are planning any other attack against us.”

Feeling a bit shameful, Folio didn’t dare to make any other remark and just kept silent.

“The Resistance ?” Nick asked, curious.

“My boss will explain everything to you soon enough.”

The gear sound of the elevator, reaching his destination, brought everyone back to the present. Even though they were all calm, deep down Noah couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious, anticipating the important meeting with one of the richest individuals in the mafia world. They heard few things about the Golden Lion’s achievements, mostly the grand ones. About how they gained so much money after working in different illegal industries, like drugs, weapons auctions and nightclubs. But it didn’t last too long. They had to leave Hell’s Kitchen, their first base, before the police found them. This was the last news they were ever published after that. And somehow they ended up here. In this No Name town. And it seemed like it was a lair for a lot of gangs to continue their business.

Despite being lost in this flood of thoughts, Noah tried to push his anxiety away, displaying his usual calm and serious expression. He had a lot of questions that were circling in his mind and he hoped he could ask them when the moment came. The security guard guided them to the front door which was lightened inside.

“This is where I must leave. The boss is waiting for you inside. I’ll be going on my daily patrol here, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to look for me and ask. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Leo. Hope to see you soon” Noah spoke, grateful to him.

“See you around, bud’ !” Folio jested to light up the sudden tension and serious mood.

Leo just nodded at them, waving briefly, before walking in the long corridor, checking if everything was normal. Once the sound of his shoes was far enough, the boys entered the room. What they saw next really contrasted with the rest of the building. There were a lot of expensive sofas and leather couches arranged in front of a brown desk. The person who was on the other side of it was a huge sixty-year-old man. On his large fingers, he was wearing golden rings that were decorating his knuckles. Some of them had a lion symbol sculpted on them. Yet, what surprised them the most about this man was his face. A few strands of his grey hair were falling on his forehead, drawing attention to his blue eyes that could see through you, despite being covered by the chubbiness of his cheeks. This man was the perfect mixture of wealth, trickery and disgust. Despite the hideous look of this individual, he had an aura that embodied leadership. You could tell who was in charge here.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to my den. I’m Big Charles or Big C for my friends. Please, have a seat.” He ordered in a low voice.

The four men did as they were told and took place on the burnt brown couch before Big Charles’ desk.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, BAD OMENS syndicate. I’m glad to see you made it through here. Knowing your presence here fills me with joy.” Big Charles smiled, showing his golden teeth, filling in the void of his dentition.

“We’re honored to hear such great feedback about us, sir. Seems that our reputation precedes us.“ Jolly spoke politely.

“Perhaps you could tell us more about the mission you’ve told us about on the phone, sir? We’re curious to learn more about it.” Noah continued.

“Straight to the point, I see.” Big C chuckled. “Of course. I’m gonna tell you everything you need to know about this mission.” He nodded, intertwining his golden-ringed fingers together, before continuing.

“You see, my gang and I have been facing a difficult situation for a few months. At first, we were handling it thanks to our partners in the city, such as a few minor gangs and some mercenaries. But, we’ve reached a point where even our partnerships have been attacked. And so we don’t have any more resources, like money, weapons and men. I lost so many men during these terrorist attacks. Which is why I called an outside syndicate like you.”

Charles paused, licking his lips to moisten them. He bent over, looking for something in his drawers. He put a whiskey bottle on his desk before turning to his cabinet behind his seat and taking five glasses. Then he poured the liquid into the glasses and handed some of them to the four young men in front of him.

“Have a drink, gentlemen. This one is my favourite ever. You cannot find any better in this dirty town. I have to commission someone from the outside to look for this kind.” Big Charles mumbled. “Anyway, where was I again? Ah yes, the terrorist attacks. They call themselves the "Resistance” or the “Red Sun”. There were a lot of gangs who tried to threaten us, but them... They are a disease to this town. Although they are less numbered compared to us, they always come back. Like a hungry wolf pack. Or rats. I don’t know how they do that, but one thing I’m sure of is they are desperate and evil souls who only kill and steal people like us. We are among those who are trying to survive. And the worst and annoying thing about them is they always know where to hit to weaken us !” Charles spat, angrily slamming his empty glass against his desk.

“So, in other words, this organization you speak of… The Red Sun or Resistance, are they the ones we have to stop ?” Jolly resumed.

“Precisely, my boy. And the best way to stop them is to find where these rats are hiding, find their leader and bring them to the authorities of The Eye.”

Big C suspended his talking, pouring himself another drink and taking immediately a sip of his whiskey, leaving the four men processing the amount of information they received at once.

“What do you mean by The Eye ?” Nicholas asked quietly, breaking the short silence.

“It’s the ruler of the city. Usually, you can see its tower from the outside but because of the weather and the smoke today, you can barely see its light above. Besides watching over us, the citizens, it protects those who obey them by giving supplies, like food, water, medical kits and recently weapons. A lot of gangs depend on their help and partnership, like mine. And we’re not going to let those resistance steal our resources !” Big C replied.

Noah and his companions just nodded their heads in approval, before he decided to speak.

“So, what are you expecting from us, sir? What do we have to do ?”

Big Charles smiled at the professionalism of those young ones.

“For now, your main mission will be to investigate the Red Sun, finding their base and leader. Once it’s done, their attacks will decrease. In return, your reward will be big, I can promise you that. You’ll receive 3 million dollars and more advantages during our cooperation together. As long as you’re here, my most trustworthy guys will ensure your protection. You’ll also have a place to stay and eat and even have a free pass from the nightclub I own. Depending on how efficient you are, it could be done in a month or two, but it won’t last long either way. Leo will give you every detail you need to know about the rules here and your rooms.” Big C paused once more, drinking his fourth sip of whiskey.

“Oh and just so you know, if you’re approving these terms you’ll get a contract with me, under The Eye’s orders. Soon they’ll send us someone to supervise you, making you sign the contract and give your new weapons. I’ll tell you when…”

While Big Charles was rambling, the sound of heels clicking on the black-polished tiling resonated in the whole corridor. The woman in black walked so confidently, smoking nonchalantly with her cigarette inside the building. She took one last puff before crushing the stub under her boots and heading to the usual room of the mafia leader. She opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, so casually, as if she owned the place. Then, she gave a smile to the four gentlemen seated on the brown couch and to the sixty-year-old man in front of them.

“Well, Big C, aren’t you going to introduce me to your guests ?” She asked with a raspy voice.

Charles stood up immediately, leaving his beloved and comfortable burgundy armchair to greet the woman dressed in her long black coat respectfully.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come here so early, dear…” He started, then stopped a second when she glared at him through her red sunglasses, before continuing “...dear Supervisor. It’s an honour to see you. Let me introduce you to the four young men here. They just arrived a few hours ago in town. They are called the BAD OMENS.”

The woman in black just nodded at Big C, pretending to be interested in his words. However, the last part caught her attention. She stared even more at the four young men before her.

“Interesting name’s choice.” She noted, “ At least, we can expect some of your victims to tremble in fear.”

“We prefer to not think about it. Ignoring those who are afraid of us, is to avoid having pity in them. But I guess in this kind of job, we can’t help but feel it no matter what.” Jolly spoke calmly.

“Put the feelings aside, darling.” She replied, waving her hand in an irritated manner, “In here, having pity or mercy is useless. It will only make you hesitate. And being hesitant can cost your life. It’s killing or being killed--”

“And how can we help you, ma’am ?” Noah cut her off, glancing at her with a visible distrust in his dark brown eyes.

With open-wide blue eyes, Charles was about to protest, but the woman in black stopped him with a sign from her gloved hand.

“Fascinating.” She hissed, still with an ominous smile plastered on her face “ I usually encourage any form of audacity, but I must admit this one caught me off guard.”

She went closer to Noah, leaning forward and staring at him with such intensity through her red goggles. The sudden proximity started to make him feel uneasy. The vicious aura of this woman was crushing everyone else in the room. Even Big C felt small compared to her.

“What’s your name, little one ?” She asked.

“Noah.”

“Well, Noah, since it’s your first day here, I’ll let your arrogance slide for this time. But know that I never give second chances when it comes to disrespecting me. Understood?” She warned.

The short brown-haired man simply nodded in silence, trying to remain calm.

“You four will only refer to me as Supervisor, Law or Sir. Is that clear ?”

“Yes, Supervisor.” Noah muttered.

“Good. You’re a quick learner. Maybe you could be a good apprentice for me. I’m looking for a new one, anyway.” She straightened herself, proudly.

Big Charles took this opportunity to talk again.

“Well, Supervisor, since you’re here early, I was wondering if you could register them to The Eye for their contract with the Golden Lion. Also, it would be an honour if you could train them.”

She turned around, facing Charles, her interest and curiosity caught for real this time.

“Oh? That’s a lot of requests, Charles. You’ll owe me for that” She smiled maliciously “In the meantime, I'll take care of the contract at The Eye’s office. This shouldn’t take too long for the equipment either. As for the training, I’ll take only one apprentice. And I think Noah would be a great candidate.”

“Why just him? Can’t you train us as well? We are a team after all.” Folio protested.

“Dear, I only train those who need discipline. If you want to get stronger, just train there. It would be enough. But if you want to be my apprentice so bad, then let’s make a duel. The last one standing will become my trainee. How does that sound? Do you want to kill your friend?” She replied menacingly.

Folio audibly gulped and took a few steps back, like a scared dog in front of a predator. Clearly, her offer didn’t sound that good anymore.

“Good boy. You know your place.” She said, amused.

Then she turned to her left, facing Noah and not paying any more attention to Folio who also felt uneasy

“We’ll talk about your training once you settle here. For now, I’ll be off to the Eye’s tower. You four should come with me to make yourself register. No worries, Big Charles’ guards and mine will accompany us.”

Reluctantly, the four young men followed the woman in black, barely hearing a goodbye from Charles. Once they were all five outside, a long black limousine was waiting for them. Some guards from the Golden Lion were already around it, watching the surrounding area. A man, wearing a black suit and a black ski mask with strange symbols on it, got out of the car saluting the Supervisor. The man barely whispered a few words to her, before she looked up and saw something shiny being dropped above them.

“Get down !!” She screamed, pushing her interlocutor to the ground.

A hand grenade bounced on the limousine’s roof before exploding, two seconds later. The car blew up, the windows burning out and the blast made the nearest people pop out a few meters away. Noah and his companions covered up their faces, protecting themselves from potential projectiles. They got nothing more than scratches. Yet, some security agents weren’t that lucky. Many of them who were around the car got seriously injured, with bleeding faces and fewer limbs. Noah’s ears were still ringing, hardly hearing anything, and his vision was a bit blurry so he was unsure of what he saw from far away. He noticed what looked like a small silhouette, on a building’s balcony, with a weird respirator mask on. It felt like it was staring at them. At least, it is what he thinks he saw, because, in the blink of an eye, the shadow was gone.

His senses were slowly coming back to him when he felt Nick’s hand on his shoulder, checking up on him.

“You’re okay ?” He asked.

“Yeah... I’m fine” The short brown haired replied “But, what was that ?”

“It was a threat.”

37 notes · View notes

factorialsotherfandoms · 8 months

Text

Just making a list of things, intentionally or otherwise, which might have/did mess with Philza's emotional state in the lead up to him doing a silly and following the book (which promised his kids back and implied his wings too) (from memory I don't have the stream open and it was loooong):

It being Tallulah's birthday

Forever, a close friend, is in a coma after having been drugged, and Philza probably having a pretty traumatic time just 2 days prior trying to help. And now all he can do is bang a pan and talk and pray.

Eggs missing

Philza missed his eggs being hurt and in pain and scared because he was away, and the signs are still there to prove it

Him and Fit discussing the eggs, and if Philza would still love them even if they were AIs/robots/lab experiments/etc

Event his kids would have really enjoyed, but they aren't there to do so. No Chayanne doing the cooking, no Tallulah playing her flute...

Taking Tallulah's place at the event by playing the music (a thing Philza doesn't do, despite being in an extremely musical family)

Capybaras helping him fly to take photos (see: the damaged wings and the promise of flight)

Alcohol from the celebration, even if he only drank a little bit.

Having to explain everything to Missa, his government assigned husband, and admit he wasn't there when the eggs needed them - neither of their parents were there, just the babysitters. Couldn't even get a phonecall with their dads when the kids were hurt and in pain. Having to tell his partner their children are lost, maybe dead, maybe gone, nobody knows. Obviously Missa needed to know and Philza would explain it! And telling Missa the best option! But... It wouldn't have helped Philza's mental state.

The eggs in the maze and only two survive story (messed with everyone tbf)

Only (a copy of) Chayanne's item being in the maze. Also it being blocked from him by the barrier blocks. It only being Chayanne's is even worse to his mental state than it being everyone's there

Believing himself too stupid to save his children, expressing this directly by apologising to the Chayanne floaty for that, and bringing it to mind, probably not helped by being in a crew of a lot of the 'clever' players (we all know from those tumblr posts insulting yourself enough over time affects behaviour, and given his mentions about not doing lore because not clever enough earlier even if that was ooc this is probably a longer term concern for him C as well. Pretty sure he's called himself stupid while rping with the eggs before)

The maze ending with no answers, only more pain and fear. Once again left with glimmers but in practice nothing

His extremely secure home being compromised

Using Tallulah's colours and flowers on the box. Also correctly getting the one of his kid who would leave him angsty metaphor and a story with the instructions, even if it felt a bit off (its her birthday, its her birthday, he was desperate)

The joke about a wise old crow whilst he was feeling very stupid, but knows his kids think of him as clever.

Also the crow thing. I know there's a lot of jokes about Philza and bird brain which go around from time to time, the perching, the wandering off to examine shiny things while people are talking, etc. If we take this as read... Well. Phrasing the instructions as about a bird really would force that side of him.

Using the nest as the closest waypoint. His nest, not his house, his concrete nest in the sky where he felt most like the bird he partially is.

It happening so late. Philza doesn't often continue to midnight, let alone gone 2am. To me this implies his character isn't usually up and big active that long (I like to think when offline the characters are a combo of sleeping and just chilling). So IC he's probably exhausted. Which. Does not for "rational" thinking make. You probably wouldn't have got him not leaving at least a copy of the book in the chest earlier in the day.

TBH, all that accounted for, I'm surprised he kept weapons and shield and glider and food on him with the note. It was needed, but I'm more surprised he managed to reign himself to bring some things with him not just throw everything on the floor and go.

It was a /long/ stream and even the fun cute bits fed into a loop of stressing him out and breaking down. Crack, crack, crack, crack, and after enough time it /will/ get through.

And tbf, it probably took all of that to do so.

(and I hope the other characters when he one way or another gets out of this understand. everyone's under a lot of stress, but that stream in Philza stream was just breaking him again and again and again)

Also another aside which breaks the vibes of this post but eh - people keep saying his survivalist tendancies should have kicked in, but I think they actually played against him here?

Philza is used to taking on very shit situations with a lot less than he was carrying. That sword and shield? More powerful than anything in hardcore. And sure now he's set up he has so much food and resources in hardcore world, but when he starts? He starts somewhere impossibly dangerous with literally nothing, and does fine, which is a whole lot less than he took with him.

Plus... He's used to being alone. Completely stressed out, manipulated, and fucked with brain probably didn't even consider a note. Why? Because he's not used to anyone being there. Why leave a note before going to do something dangerous you're underequipped for if there's nobody there to read it? It's only him in most of his worlds. Nobody would notice him gone because there's nobody there to notice.

(Sure his husband his back and his friends are here and the island is full of people who love and trust and care about him, but at the end of the day, when he's stressed and its late and the Feds have systematically and likely purposefully broken him down, and his friends have accidentally helped with that... He's from a solo hardcore world, where he starts with nothing and nobody is there to help him. It's not he doesn't trust them. It's that he doesn't even realise in the height of his emotions that there's anyone else there.)

#qsmp rambles #qsmp philza #meta #I guess #character analysis #kinda again #i keep seeing people say its out of character with his survivalist vibes #but... is it?#he's from a solo world where he always starts with much less than he took with him #and he took weapons he couldn't even dream of in his world #when he's that stressed why would he leave a note when he's used to there being nobody there

93 notes · View notes

a-vivid-dreamer · 3 days

Text

Snippets (1) - Ticking Samsara AU

Disclaimer: contains some 2.2 lore spoilers

“Where are you heading to at this hour?”

Yanqing didn’t even flinch at the familiar voice at his doorway. He merely continued to toss his outer robe on. “Investigating. I’d appreciate it if you kept this quiet. Especially, from Mikhail.”

Gallagher huffed, arms crossing as he leaned his weight against the doorframe. “Well, now I know that this is a big deal. You practically never keep things hidden from him.”

“All I have are some suspicions — nothing concrete, unfortunately.” Yanqing sighs wearily, and it’s during such moments that his increasingly-old age shines most. If it weren’t for the current conversation, Gallagher would gladly offer to share his flask with the Nameless swordsman. “Until I’m certain of some things, I don’t wish to bother him with this when it could be nothing.”

Gallagher raised a knowing brow. “Lemme guess, you’re getting all worked up cause of a gut feeling?”

“Yes.”

“…You do know that your gut feelings have yet to lead any of us astray?”

“I know. But, for once, I hope I’m wrong.” Yanqing pauses for a moment before quickly tying up his hair. For a brief moment, he couldn’t help but reminisce as he recalled the pure excitement Mikhail had on his face when showing off drafts for the story of Clockie and friends. “…Because if I’m right again, then we are likely going to find ourselves fighting another battle.”

“…That bad, huh.”

“You’re starting to realize it too, aren’t you? The Stellaron… They went behind our backs to use it and thanks to it, there’s a beautiful dreamscape. …But there is always a price for power and “perfection”. And the results of a Stellaron fulfilling a wish is far from an exception.”

Yanqing grabs his sheathed sword before heading out, not even giving Gallagher a glance as he passed by. “…If it’s a false alarm, it’s a false alarm. If it’s not…then let Mikhail enjoy himself for just a little bit longer before things begin to crash again.”

Gallagher stared at the nearby wall before sighing deeply as he gave in. These Nameless are going to give him grey hairs. “Fine, my lips are sealed. Go and do what you need to. But you owe me a drink, and it better be damn good quality too.”

“Ha. I wouldn’t dare to hand you a bottle that isn’t the finest.”

[End]

—

(Hello, everyone. I’m going to be slowing down in art for a bit so I can focus more on actually writing the plots/stories for my AUs. And that’ll include some occasional snippets of various scenes. Some that will end up canon to its AU storyline and some that will be more lighthearted/less plot significant just to give a better idea of some dynamics or moods.)

23 notes · View notes

y-rhywbeth2 · 21 days

Text

@leomonae Hmm. Were [judges] always chosen from the ranks of the patriars, even 200 years back?

That's actually a good point that I failed to factor in and just had to go research - the only aspect of it I'd considered prior was the fact that the new money minority amongst the Peers wouldn't count in this equation (whether Astarion would be from a Patriar family, and thus require human ancestry to make sense in the lore) because he died long before they were established. (I was also incorrect about lawyers: barristers are a rare (and insanely expensive to hire) minority within the city, though from what else I've seen on the topic of lawyers in the realms that is a very new evolution. As Astarion says himself though; he was a judge, he made rulings.)

By default the role of judge is performed by the Dukes, when a crime is too serious and under dispute (or a Patriar, or somebody in similar power (*cough*high ranking temple clergy*cough*) wants it taken to court) and can't be settled by officers of the Fist or the Watch. Within the Gate's legal system it's rare for a case to require a magister to rule on it, so there's not much call for judges in the first place. Rule of thumb: you just go straight to jail… or the gallows! Hm, I'm suddenly reminded of Angelo sentencing the party back in BG1: "I am commander of the Flaming Fist. I will be your judge, jury and executioner, pardon the cliché."

In the 15th century the Dukes may delegate to a member of the Parliament of Peers, but that itself raises some questions because the Peers exist because the Patriars saw an opportunity to grab power and took it*, and this power was not delegated… so it's quite possible that when Astarion was alive you had to be a Grand Duke to serve as a judge. Grand Duke Ancunín! The Gate is doomed. (I somehow don't think Astarion was ever a duke, I think that would've come up at some point.)

*"Hand all the power over the nobility". Even before the Peers the Patriars were using their money and influence - Dukes were voted for, and democracy held sway, but the nobility are still happy to try and game the system, though they weren't as successful before they could overrule the Council of Four. Nowadays they're doing it with the Peers, who will have a handful of non-Patriar members that got in by having money and (trades) Guild and Patriar connections. Dalyria, I have always mistrusted you even before finding out you were experimenting on 12 year olds, and I am staring very suspiciously at you right now. What were your connections, doctor? (The part of the systems that aren't rigged by the Patriars are usually rigged by the Flaming Fist.)

However there's nothing concrete about legal systems in the Gate in the late 13th century that I can find, only information for the 15th. So if you don't like the idea of Astarion being a Patriar here's your grounding (Which tbh, I don't necessarily like it. I see him as new money for some reason.) He would need connections and money for one of the city rulers to known him to declare him a proxy judge, if they did that back then (which, again, suggests Patriar), but there's nothing textual here to say anything concrete or say anyone's wrong.

Another tidbit of information: you don't get paid for sitting in as a judge unless you're taking bribes from interested parties. It is not a career, it's an occasional hobby. "I was a magister" = "Sometimes people bribed me to decide who lives and who dies and I probably decided based on the highest bidder and/or who was less likely to shank me for making this ruling."

#Baldur's Gate is so fucked #I will say human ancestry could explain the undertone of his skin though #which should be blue rather than pink - that's a decidedly N'Quess undertone. (Alternatively: gold/bronze or violet... not pink)#Which doesn't really need much explaining past “Larian”#we're familiar with me being irate about the physical appearance of underdark races in this game yes?#I feel like Vel and Dal would have a lot in common. Medical science; lack of ethics; politicking... I would've romanced her #/astarion #long post

25 notes · View notes

honeykaes · 1 year

Text

—𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

✦ yandere!pantalone x reader

✦ w/c: 1.9k

✦ warning: dark content, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ disclaimer: gn!reader, yandere, manipulation, financial manipulation, implied stalking, power imbalances, pantalone uses "songbird" "darling" "doll", reader is a jazz singer in fontaine, may not be lore accurate to fontaine/liyue, morax x guizhong stuff,unedited

Your eyes dulled looking at the red curtain hiding your gaze from the audience. The feeling of shame and disappointment rushing through you. Your nails buried into the pulpy flesh on your hands, lips tugging your lip. Oh, how you were tired of the hustle of downtown. The number of people you had seen shooting up in the park you once adored as a child was astounding. People didn’t flinch if they saw a dead body in an alleyway. Your eyes always saw those bloodstains on the concrete walking around in the area—everyone around you so desperate to forget. This place was the no man’s land no hero would come to.

Your hand shifted to the flower in your hair, gripping the plastic tightly. Things didn’t grow in the area anymore—the pollution from Fontaine’s growing industrial movement had tainted the natural life.

You had grown accustomed to the thick smog covering the area, filling your lungs with heavy toxic smoke. It wasn’t as though you could leave anymore—money was tight as it is when it wasn’t being scooped by the club owner you were singing for. It’s not like you could go work for most places anyway claiming people would think its a tourist spot since you’re a foreigner—bullshit like that.

“Hey doll, come on...we’re about to start. Stop daydreaming,” a familiar voice shouted. Your eyes snapped back, turning your head to the pianist. He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed by your doeful expression. The cracks of his knuckles as he prepared to play caused you to turn back to the opening curtains. Once the curtains were pushed back, the bright spotlight illuminated on your skin.

Watchful eyes, looked upon your form as you steadied your microphone. It was as you expected—low-time criminals and crime bosses. Your eyes even settled by the copious amounts of Fatui in the audience. The foreigners had tried profiting from the slums of Fontaine.

You resisted the spiteful laugh in your chest. You were used to criminals coming in here. All the previous jazz partakers left once the crime edged up and the heroes did nothing about it. If you were being honest with yourself, you would’ve left too if you could.

“You had plenty money, 1922. You let other women make a fool of you…” you sang out to the crowd. You hated the stares—feeling the visitors undress you with your eyes. It was always so intense, never subtle. The intensity burns right through your skin.

“Why don't you do right, like some other men do?” you continued. Your eyes paused staring at two men within the club—a pair of blood-red eyes sneering upon your form, the other filled with an unreadable expression. The man with the amethyst glowing eyes winked, leaning into the table further—a smile creeping on his flawless pale face. Silver-rimmed glinted mischievously at you, his gaze solely on you.

The suit he was wearing told you everything you needed to know about him—he had mora and lots of it. He was a big-time criminal within the area. His associate, with baby blue long wavy hair, skin pale must be as well.

But with the copious amount of Fatui agents in here…it would be reasonable to assume that these two men were their bosses.

Were these the Harbingers that you’d heard about? You had heard the whispers throughout the streets of the Harbingers, so powerful they could rival some archons. No one who the members were or at least remained quiet on the subject. The name brought a chill to anyone within this area. It was said they had some of the most powerful connections—they can do anything, and no one would bat an eye.

“Get out of here, make me some money too,” you sang out. It didn’t matter who they were anyway. You didn’t need to get involved. Why would they be interested in a jazz singer in Fontaine anyway? You continued your song, trying not to feel the gaze of the two men. They felt much more intense than the rest of their eyes. If the patrons’ gazes were considered hot; these two men’s gazes were hellfire itself.

Once you finished your song, a roar of applause echoed through the room. You smiled, waving your hand out pretending as you liked it—pretending that the thrill of music hadn’t died when everything went to shit in this neighborhood. The curtains closed and you sighed, lips immediately formed in a tight line.

You headed to your dressing room and smiled. A glaze lily stood on your vanity mirror—a beautiful symbol of Liyue, whose sweet fragrance wafted through your room. Whenever you sang and returned, it would always be there greeting you. What was the most fascinating part is you could feel the softness of the petals. They were always real, just like your memories told you. You took the plastic rose off placing it beside the lily next to you, gazing at its ethereal beauty.

You’d always admired glaze lilies, hearing the stories of their origins of Liyue. It said that the archon’s beloved admired these flowers before she perished. As beautiful as they were, natural ones in the wild were rare. Liyue locals considered this flower as a symbol of eternal love but an unattainable one.

You suspected someone within the club had been doing this, not a lot of people had access to your dressing room anyway.

“Unattainable love...it doesn’t have to be that way,” you whispered out, petals brushing your lips. You had hoped this admirer was similar to you—dreaming of a different life. It was silly and made you feel like a child, but dreaming about being whisked away by someone you loved always struck a chord with you. It returned the innocence of childhood in your unhappy life.

BOOM

The sudden noise made you gasp, head shooting towards the direction of the noise. Your eyes narrowed towards the wardrobe, walking slowly to it. You weren’t a fool, an animal couldn’t make a noise like that.

“(Y/n)! Hurry up! Your shift is up. The next singer needs the dressing room,” a voice yelled out on the other side of the dressing room door. You sighed shouting a curt apology to the person, walking away from your wardrobe. You grabbed your black coat and covered your tight outfit with the lily in your hands as you walked out.

A cool breeze greeted you, walking into the night. It was relatively quiet out here as opposed to the loud club behind you. A sigh escaped your lips, a puff of visible air floating up. The clicks from your shoes echoed throughout the area, eyes scouring out for anything suspicious in the area. Taking another deep breath, you could feel your anxiety peaking into your system. Did that noise truly startle you that much?

“Well, well. It seems my night is getting better and better. I get to see my lovely little doll,” a deep chuckled echoed. Emerging from the shadows of the alleyway was the man from before, eyes closed to hide that intense look he once shared with you. His hands were placed in his pocket, a smirk dancing on his thin lips. You took a step back, eyebrows furrowing from his confession. He put his hands up, chuckling at your form.

“Aww, aren’t you adorable. Don’t worry...I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to talk to the star of the evening,” he responded. Your breaths began to pick up, shifting your body due to your discomfort. You’re eyes looked toward him, peaking at any sort of way to get out of talking to him. If your suspicions were correct and he was in the League, you were in danger.

“I’m sorry I really need to get home—” The man clicked his tongue, a half-laugh emitting from his lips.

“Ah, ah! In such a rush now? I figured you’d be a lot more respectful than this. I mean trying to anger Harbinger? I wonder how Dottore would react?” the man teased. Your eye blew wide, back straightening. The image of those red eyes reverberated in your mind. Was that him? The man walked closer, the clicks of his boot echoing out. He leaned down, gloved hand gently touching the skin on your face.

You wanted to throw up, you wanted to leave. How was this happening?

“...I thought you wanted to meet, huh? I mean I’ve given you that flower for the past few months, catching all of your shows. To hear you finally wanted to meet me, I mean how could I resist?” he whispered into your ear. A violent surge of disgust and rage surged through you as you pushed him away. He grunted taking a few steps back from your push before laughing. The laugh echoed as he put his hand on his face to try to calm himself.

“I didn’t know you also had a feisty side, doll. And to think, I didn’t think you could get cuter in my eyes,” he chuckled. You clenched your jaw, fist tightly formed in a ball.

“If you ever get close to me, I’m calling the police!” you shouted. The man clicked his tongue once more, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes I’m sure they’ll be so eager to help, hm? They are seeing a generous donation from me though,” he cooed. Your scowled faltered as helplessness began settling in.

“Desperate times have fallen over many people in Fontaine. I don’t think even justice and triumph over mora. Besides, I’d hate to start off on a bad foot, you’re going to start seeing a lot more of me; I’m going to be your new boss anyway,” he confessed. All the anger left you, the feeling of fear replacing it. The man grabbed a pipe in his large pocket, as a Fatui agent emerged from the ground lighting the pipe with his glowing delusion. He sucked a breath in with a smile before blowing it out, finally opening his eyes once more as the agent disappeared.

He wasn’t smoking for the fun of it.

He was showing off the power he had over people.

Mora, something the God of Contracts, Morax, created. You wondered if he would care about the corruption that came from commerce. He could have people in the palm of his hands from just how much money he had over them. And now, you’d be no different—singing softly there, hoping he wouldn’t clasp his hands together and finally destroy you.

He took a quick drag of his pipe and exhaled the smoke. He lowered his eyes at you, satisfied by your expression.

“As much as I’d love to continue and spoil you a bit, as I’d love to buy you a new outfit for your show tomorrow…more colleague is probably growing listless in my absence. My best advice for you is never make Dottore wait long, that man has no patience,” he sighed with a chuckle, closing his eyes one more time. The mischief appearance he once had vanished to one of annoyance. He turned his back to you, showing off his long, wavy raven hair.

“My songbird, please refer to me as Pantalone. I expect you to remember it when I see you, again,” he announced. In front of him, a deep purple mist began forming a circle. Pantalone began to walk forward. He turned his head back, flashing a cruel grin before the amethyst mist left entirely.

You stood there alone body shaking. Your knees gave into fear, leaving you crashing onto the concrete sidewalk. You placed your hands onto your trembling face, sweat beginning to develop as tears dripped down your face.

Pantalone was the devil incarnate that you were so seduced by this whole time. You woke up from the innocent fairytale you hoped for, only to remember exactly where you were.

In a nightmarish hellscape.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #pantalone x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere pantalone #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #pantalone scenarios #pantalone headcanons #pantalone imagines #tw yandere

363 notes · View notes

the-crimson · 8 months

Text

I am still so incredibly confused by the lore adventure we went on today.

Code Flippa lead bbh, Max, and Aypierre back into the maze to the one blocked off hallway to find it transformed with black concrete that lead to a cucurucho puzzle, Dapper’s hat, and Bbh’s plane ticket.

Parts of it looked Federation built while others certainly were not. Could this have been created/sponsored by the dark cucurucho?

Ok ok. We discovered the maze when an unknown entity delivered the coords to Tubbo, Slime, and Roier via black concrete. The maze is some kind of abandoned federation facility. It seems that light cucurucho can’t go in meanwhile dark cucurucho is living down there somehow. Then the “space ship” appears and all the eggs start leaving messages with black concrete as if their dimension was leaving traces on this world through the contact. Then code Flippa leads the gang into the maze to find it also corrupted. The message they received about protocol AB was glitchy and the books they found were distinctly not the cururuchos we are familiar with. The cucurucho puzzle’s answer was a cheerleader pin up of cucurucho that lead to black, red, and white dice, Bad’s plane ticket and Dapper’s top hat.

Ok. Theory time, I’m gonna grasp at straws and try to piece things together XD

The structure that appeared is a conduit between the dimensions. It allows the other world to affect this one easier. Where ever this world is is the origins of the code entities. Dark cucurucho is connected to this other world somehow kr has some influence there. We know the codes original goal was to make everyone leave the island. What if this other dimension is a prison/garbage disposal of the federation’s failed experiments?

Luzu’s computer was a link in the beginning that allowed first contact to be made and the first code to cross over. Luzu’s computer was eventually destroyed (by the federation?) and the code lost its form/began to decay (i don’t remember the timeline here). The federation claimed to have some kind of power over the codes and promised they wouldn’t be a problem during the election cycle which makes sense if they are failed experiments. They might have partial control, just enough to neuter them temporarily, as it took a while before the codes attacked again - and when they did they took a new approach.

The codes took the form of the eggs and attacked the presidential candidates. If they want to make the islanders leave/resist the federation so they don’t wind up as more failed experiments then it makes sense the codes would try to kill the candidates. They would want to stop the election from happening because that means the islanders will be even more trapped/less likely to leave.

After the election they turned their focus entirely into Etoiles and getting the code sword and shield. Maybe there is something within this dimension that is incredibly powerful - an old experiment that the federation created this dimension to imprison - that is trying to get out. While in the dimension, nothing can die as this dimension is entirely in code. That’s why the eggs are safe there, why they haven’t needed any tasks done, why their life cycle has paused - because they aren’t corporeal, they’ve been reduced to code and are thus untouchable. The binary entities have been in this dimension for so long they no longer remember what they used to look like.

However, have u noticed that once the codes got one sword, they’ve been able to duplicate them infinitely? Maybe that’s why they wanted the shield back from Etoiles. Within this other world, the codes can create more of those items. Maybe they were using Etoiles to train themselves so that when this powerful experiment breaks free they’ll be able to destroy it? Maybe they were training Etoiles so he’d be able to destroy it? Maybe they are duplicating the op sword and shield so the islanders will be able to kill it? Idk

I got a little side tracked so let’s get back to the maze. The codes have a vested interest in the players Lear ing about this entity if it’s going to break free. Whoever is on the other side brought Tubbo and crew to the maze (was it dark cucurucho?) Within the maze they discovered the transmission confirming that the federation knows why the eggs ran away. Dark cucurucho showed them the wheel and the egg items but we still have no clue what that was. Perhaps this is dark cucurucho’s job, to keep the federation’s mistakes forgotten and it is preparing the players for when the fed’s mistake breaks free via its influence in this other dimension.

Then today we have code Flippa bring us to a part of the maze I think was built/hijacked directly by dark cucurucho. It was a distinctly federation structure that had been renovated with darker colors and black concrete and the books were a scary kind of playful. The cururucho maze makes sense because the dark cucurucho is mocking light cucurucho. Maybe this dark cucurucho is tired of cleaning up after the federation or despises the other cucuruchos because it’s forced to live in the sewers cleaning up their shit.

It knows bbh, what he’s capable of, so it brought him here via code assistance to show him a piece of his past he doesn’t remember. It wants to tear down the federation just like the islanders so it is spreading all the federations dirty laundry for the islanders to see. First confirmation that the federation knows why the eggs left and now bbh’s past visit to the island he doesn’t remember. Maybe dark cucurucho is even aiding in bringing the fed’s monster back so it can destroy the fed itself.

I have no clue I feel like I’m still as confused as when I started writing this XD tell me ur thoughts and theories cuz I’m at a loss lol

#qsmp #crimson speaks #I feel like I’m grasping at straws #but this other dimension being a prison the fed created for a failed experiment they can’t control would be dope #and dark cucurucho being a sort of janitor of the Fed’s mistakes could also make sense #I definately 100% think dark curucuho is responsible for the adventure today #it wanted bbh to learn about his past visit #and has some influence over the codes/code flippa #idk idk idk #brain is mush #I order pizza now

39 notes · View notes

dandylovesturtles · 11 months

Text

Since 100 Feet and a World Away got submitted to the Separated AU Comp (thanks whoever submitted!) and now some people are going through my tag I thought I would just throw down a little scribble to introduce you all to Leo and Mikey in the AU! I’m just doing this on my phone so sorry it is not fancy lol

If you’re new to the AU just check out my 100 Feet and a World Away tag! I have a lore post in my pinned as well.

I’m just building this thing as I go lol~

———

They don’t muzzle Leo on the walk back to his room this time, because he’s munching on watermelon.

He doesn’t care about it much. The watermelon is just a carrot - not literally, obviously, but metaphorically. Leo doesn’t care about the carrot, because the stick is an electric cattle prod and it’s aimed right at his little brother.

But he was good today. Did what he was supposed to. And if he keeps some watermelon in his mouth they won’t muzzle him, so he takes little bites and tries not to show too much teeth as he does it.

The humans don’t like seeing his teeth.

They open the door and push him inside. He’s made to go through his normal routine: weight, height, pupil check, reflexes. They let him keep the watermelon throughout it today.

Then they lead him up the steps over the concrete wall to the shallow pool that is his home and unlock his collar.

The collar is another stick. Like the cattle prod, it shocks.

After it’s been pulled from his neck, he wades through the water to the rocks in the middle. Mikey is curled up there, eyes closed and breath even. Leo doesn’t know how he can sleep when humans are in the room.

He runs a hand over Mikey’s arm to rouse him, watching his little brother yawn and crack open an eye. He always waits for Leo to speak first; when Leo says nothing, he knows it’s not safe.

He sits up, then tilts his head at Leo, eyes still sleepy. Leo can’t help but smile, close lipped so there’s no teeth. Even with his back to the humans, he can’t risk it.

He holds out his partially eaten watermelon.

Mikey’s eyes light up; he reaches out and breaks a hunk off with his fingers, eating it slowly and with relish.

“See?” Leo hears one of the humans say. “It’s exhibiting sharing behaviors.”

“So do rats, Tim,” says the other. “It’s not that special.”

Leo ignores them, pushing the watermelon toward Mikey to urge him to take more. Mikey looks at it, then raises his eyes to meet Leo’s.

He pushes the watermelon back.

Leo frowns, shoving the watermelon back at Mikey with more force. Shakes it a little. Mikey’s mouth gains a defiant twist and he shakes his head.

Leo suppresses a sigh - it would be too human of a gesture. Instead he just tears off a hunk of the watermelon and shoves it in his mouth.

Mikey smiles again. He doesn’t bother hiding his teeth. He takes more of the watermelon.

“They’re well socialized,” says one of the humans, and the other hums in agreement.

…

“I made you something,” says Mikey later, when the humans have gone home for the night. He moves away from where he was laying before, revealing a pattern of lines etched in the dirt.

“Look! It’s you!” He points. “Here’s your eyes… and your chin… and your marks!”

Leo thinks he can see it. The crescent moons over the little circles are his eyes and markings, the bigger circle the rest of his face. Leo doesn’t know anything about this - drawings, Mikey said - but he thinks Mikey must be pretty good at it.

Because Mikey is his little brother and he’s incredible, of course.

“Hey yeah!” Leo says with enthusiasm. “Almost as pretty as the real me.”

He’s going to have to destroy it later, but he doesn’t say that, because Mikey is beaming.

Instead he says, “Next time I give you food, will you just eat it?”

Mikey’s face falls anyway, so it didn’t matter. “You have to eat, too.”

“I do eat.”

“Those yucky nutrition blocks,” says Mikey, crinkling his nose.

“Hey, I like ‘em,” Leo lies. “That’s why I don’t mind giving you my watermelon.”

Mikey is still frowning. He shuffles back a little on the rock.

“…You don’t have to protect me all the time,” he says.

Leo’s grin doesn’t falter, doesn’t slip, no matter how much it hurts. He can’t afford it.

He reaches over and pulls Mikey into a headlock, ignoring all protests as he rubs his knuckles, hard, against the top of Mikey’s head.

“Of course I do,” he says, chuckling in the face of Mikey’s flailing. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t?”

#100 feet and a world away #rottmnt #my fanfic #rise leonardo #rise michelangelo

93 notes · View notes

magicantare · 7 months

Text

mmc magical girl AU lore dump:

The year is 20XX. The world is slowly approaching a post-scarcity utopia supported by unprecedented advances in technology and science. Quantum and classical physics have been united, asteroid mining has made electronic components cheap and abundant, medical technology guarantees a higher quality of life, and most recently, inorganic matter has been able to be converted into data and back.

Dr. Light and Dr. Wily developed a “robotic support system”, a type of protective suit integrated with incredibly advanced robotic tools for specific dangerous tasks, like rescues, handling hazardous material, or performing tasks in extreme environments. Light wants the suits to be used to help advance the frontiers of science, while Wily is more interested in its military applications despite large-scale conflicts being minimal in the present day. These support systems are integrated into the body to the point that removing them requires special equipment (think like an HEV suit), but the suits themselves are very powerful and cutting-edge. Light’s proposal to use them for scientific reasons is what ultimately wins out, and Wily is shunned for pushing for military use. Soon after this, Wily simply vanishes without a trace, which bothers Light but he can’t do anything about it.

At some point Light saves his oldest son, Blues, from dying of a heart condition with a suit prototype (LRSS-000) that regulates his heart rate and provides strength for his weakened body, but Blues had already accepted his death and doesn’t take having his body tampered with super well and ends up leaving home. Light creates generic support systems in the form of LRSS-001 and 002, proving the non-weaponized potential that the support system has, where his twin children Rock and Roll happily volunteer to demonstrate them with great success. Light then deploys LRSS-003 to 008 with handpicked candidates, qualified university graduates and trade employees, for use in scientific and industrial fields.

Wily shows up some years later and declares war on the world with his own version of the robotic support system, and a handful of 20-somethings that he’s coerced/bribed/blackmailed into piloting them, calling them “Bion Masters”. The suits are ridiculously powerful and there are far less military resources out there than in modern day due to the general state of peace in the world, so nothing can stop them. Rock and Roll both volunteer themselves to fight against Wily, but Light can’t bear to let either of them face danger after nearly losing Blues. Though Light’s Bion Masters try their best to fight back, they don’t have the same weaponized capabilities that Wily’s do and are slowly defeated and abducted one by one, each disappearance further weighing on Light’s conscience.

The most egregious act comes when Wily and Shadow Man break into the Light residence and kidnap Rock and Roll and their support systems, absolutely shattering Light’s will to fight back. Before he vanishes, Rock tells his father that he can’t give up here and urges him to resist Wily for everyone’s sake.

Light makes the difficult decision to weaponize the second series of support systems he’s been developing and seek out people who have enough courage to take on Wily’s forces. He finds the first seven users relatively quickly, but the last support system, 016, has so much dangerous potential that Light hesitates to find a user for it…

Light’s (Current) Bion Masters:

LRSS-009 “Concrete Man”

Good Point: Gets the job done Bad Point: Self-righteous Likes: Fulfilling work Dislikes: Laziness

The support system was designed for construction. In battle, he’s most effective at backline support, civilian rescue and damage mitigation, but has quite a lot of raw physical strength for defense. Concrete Shot can immobilize enemies.

LRSS-010 “Tornado Man”

Good Point: Confident Bad Point: Slacker Likes: New experiences Dislikes: Working

The support system was designed for weather management and mitigating storm damage. In battle, he acts as the leader and has quick mobility, focusing on clearing out large groups of enemies and moving victims of Wily’s assaults to safe areas. Tornado Blow can throw even heavy enemies into the air and damage them upon impact with the ground.

LRSS-011 “Splash Woman”

Good Point: Hard worker Bad Point: Moody Likes: Self-care Dislikes: Having her time wasted

The support system was designed for rescuing shipwreck survivors. In battle, she can fight up-close and excels at underwater combat and has small fish-like robots she can call on for extra support. Laser Trident can cut cleanly through metal and destroy robotic enemies.

LRSS-012 “Plug Man”

Good Point: Quick learner Bad Point: Over-exciteable Likes: Technology Dislikes: Boring tasks

The support system was designed for delicate but high-powered electronic manufacturing. In battle he’s a long-ranged fighter that can use both physical and electrical projectiles. Plug Ball can spread across surfaces and short-circuit any machines that aren’t hermetically sealed.

LRSS-013 “Jewel Man” Good Point: Stylish Bad Point: Self-Centered Likes: Interesting things Dislikes: Being rejected

The support system was designed for jewel mining. In battle, he’s a very fast and up-close brawler that can even claw metal apart. Jewel Satellite can protect him from energy shots and damage enemies on contact.

LRSS-014 “Hornet Man” Good Point: Compassionate Bad Point: Pushover Likes: Nature Dislikes: Selfishness

The support system was designed for botany and environmental science work. In battle, he’s primarily a backline fighter that provides remote support. Hornet Chaser can pursue enemies and pierce through metal with lasers.

LRSS-015 “Magma Man”

Good Point: Calm Bad Point: A little dense Likes: Traveling Dislikes: Staying indoors

The support system was designed for work in volcanic environments. In battle, he’s a very slow but powerful frontline fighter. Magma Bazooka can melt through metal armor with direct shots.

LRSS-016 “Galaxy Man” Good Point: Creative Bad Point: No people-skills Likes: Science Dislikes: Strangers

The support system was designed for performing spacewalks and maintenance on space stations and satellites. In battle, they’re highly mobile and can hit devastatingly hard, but are themself fragile. Black Hole Bomb can suck up pretty much anything that isn’t tied down or attached to the ground, so it can destroy huge groups of enemies at once.

...That's everything I have formally written down, at least, but I've also made a lot of offhand remarks when brainstorming for this.

#mmc magical girl au #if people want a lore dump. for fun

42 notes · View notes